[Fanfic]Airs
Random, short drabble that's somehow based on the recent news. Mex/Chi o/
And why am I here when I have three papers waiting for me? <3
Manuel walks into the room just about the time to witness Pedro crushes a collection of Octavio Paz poetry onto his face. A rather amusing scene in the Chilean’s mind if he happens to not know the Mexican’s love for his own poets.
“I heard the news,” Manuel says as he walks to the sofa, slightly worn from excessive amount of usage, and rests his upper body on the back of the furniture, “that was rather a challenge, isn’t it?”
“If you’re going to tell me a twenty year-old girl cannot handle a such title like a grown man, it is too late now. I’m already having shortage over the population who dare to do something and not fear for their lives.” The long rumbles coming from several layers of pages brings out the slight curve by the Chilean’s mouth as he quietly listens the Mexican, “the only thing I can say is that she is willing and I’m glad.”
“Is that the reason of why you're reading Paz again?”
“‘Deserve your dream,’ what else should I say?” Pedro sighs and narrows his dark brown eyes as Manuel snatches the book from his face, “don’t do that, I’m still getting over the last seismic activity.”
And if he is not careful, the Mexican thinks, he can see the cells floating on his retinas and he rather not to, that gives him a false impression of something is happening in the air and makes him wonder if he is not at his normal self again.
So the Chilean touches the Mexican’s forehead lightly before wraps his arms around Pedro’s neck and feels the back of sofa pressing against his chest.
“How’s the feeling now?”
“Like all the broken waves being inserted into my gray matter and brings nothing but headaches.”
But it is actually good like this, just to feel the warmth of the body of someone one’s comfortable with. Pedro sighs again and feels the temperature of the air, which has been dropping due to the seasonal change, faintly rises up as he tries to relax a bit, maybe just a bit more.
And why am I here when I have three papers waiting for me? <3
Manuel walks into the room just about the time to witness Pedro crushes a collection of Octavio Paz poetry onto his face. A rather amusing scene in the Chilean’s mind if he happens to not know the Mexican’s love for his own poets.
“I heard the news,” Manuel says as he walks to the sofa, slightly worn from excessive amount of usage, and rests his upper body on the back of the furniture, “that was rather a challenge, isn’t it?”
“If you’re going to tell me a twenty year-old girl cannot handle a such title like a grown man, it is too late now. I’m already having shortage over the population who dare to do something and not fear for their lives.” The long rumbles coming from several layers of pages brings out the slight curve by the Chilean’s mouth as he quietly listens the Mexican, “the only thing I can say is that she is willing and I’m glad.”
“Is that the reason of why you're reading Paz again?”
“‘Deserve your dream,’ what else should I say?” Pedro sighs and narrows his dark brown eyes as Manuel snatches the book from his face, “don’t do that, I’m still getting over the last seismic activity.”
And if he is not careful, the Mexican thinks, he can see the cells floating on his retinas and he rather not to, that gives him a false impression of something is happening in the air and makes him wonder if he is not at his normal self again.
So the Chilean touches the Mexican’s forehead lightly before wraps his arms around Pedro’s neck and feels the back of sofa pressing against his chest.
“How’s the feeling now?”
“Like all the broken waves being inserted into my gray matter and brings nothing but headaches.”
But it is actually good like this, just to feel the warmth of the body of someone one’s comfortable with. Pedro sighs again and feels the temperature of the air, which has been dropping due to the seasonal change, faintly rises up as he tries to relax a bit, maybe just a bit more.