[FANFIC] 6 A.M. [HETALIA: USxFem!UK]
Title: 6 A.M.
Author: xdiamondwings
Pairing(s): USxFem!UK
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst, hints of violence, about 100 words (translate: really really short).
Summary: Drabble about war, America, and memories.
He stabs her and scars her. He beats her and loves her.
There are still marks; marks that signify long, hard battles.
He’s left so many she can no longer count them on two hands. She can name them though, can trace her finger across the un-evenness of healing tissue. (It’s only been two hundred years after all)
He uses her, and she doesn’t complain. Their relations are better now-not quite that of their mellow days (fields-of-marigolds-and-poppies-and-sunlight-and-no-care-to-the-world-around-them), but they’re getting there.
She's willing to wait; wait and take whatever blows he wants (needs) to deal. She’ll wait and utter no sound.
Waiting, waiting, waiting.
✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧
Written to get rid of a bit of stress/inspiration. I'm almost done with chapter 1 of Such Great Heights, if anyone's following that. I just have some editing and wrap-up left for that chapter.
Also, there's something I'm slightly curious about, if anyone's willing to help me. Sometimes I get the feeling that I don't write enough dialogue in my stories. This applies more to Such Great Heights, since it's not a drabble. It's like, all text works as visuals. I was wondering if anyone else felt this way? It might be something I need to work on. >_>;;
Anyways, uh, enough of that. Thank you for reading! Drop a comment if you liked!
Author: xdiamondwings
Pairing(s): USxFem!UK
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst, hints of violence, about 100 words (translate: really really short).
Summary: Drabble about war, America, and memories.
He stabs her and scars her. He beats her and loves her.
There are still marks; marks that signify long, hard battles.
He’s left so many she can no longer count them on two hands. She can name them though, can trace her finger across the un-evenness of healing tissue. (It’s only been two hundred years after all)
He uses her, and she doesn’t complain. Their relations are better now-not quite that of their mellow days (fields-of-marigolds-and-poppies-and-sunlight-and-no-care-to-the-world-around-them), but they’re getting there.
She's willing to wait; wait and take whatever blows he wants (needs) to deal. She’ll wait and utter no sound.
Waiting, waiting, waiting.
✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧
Written to get rid of a bit of stress/inspiration. I'm almost done with chapter 1 of Such Great Heights, if anyone's following that. I just have some editing and wrap-up left for that chapter.
Also, there's something I'm slightly curious about, if anyone's willing to help me. Sometimes I get the feeling that I don't write enough dialogue in my stories. This applies more to Such Great Heights, since it's not a drabble. It's like, all text works as visuals. I was wondering if anyone else felt this way? It might be something I need to work on. >_>;;
Anyways, uh, enough of that. Thank you for reading! Drop a comment if you liked!