Just Like Shattered Porcelain

Jul 20, 2009 04:58


The smell of the tea, gently wafting up; the brilliant sun, beating on his back. It was perfect, an eternity of calm relaxation. England sighs and sips his tea, a pleased purring sound stemming from his throat.

The only thing that ruins it is a familiar laugh - someone pokes his cheek and whispers hotly into his ear that he was like a cat - and he glares, annoyed, at the source. Spain only grins and leans forward against the back of his chair, blocking the sun. England scoffs and sips his tea again, before carefully placing it - pinky, he mutters, pinky! - down.

After a moment, the passionate country lifts a hand and runs it through the other's hair, England jumps slightly and turns halfway in his seat to glare. Spain grins, backs a step away with his hands in the air, and closes one eye cheerfully, tilting his head in a sorry salute, with that damned smile still etched onto his face.

"Lo siento, gato enojado!"

"You don't sound sorry."

He chooses to ignore that last part and turns back to his tea, stirring it idly with a spoon. The gentle clinking of the silverware on the porcelain gives Spain time to breath a sigh of relief and return to his perch on the back of England's chair, leaning against it again. He closes his eyes - content, complacent, he murmurs soft words in the air just above his companion's head - and inhales.

The smell of the tea, combined with the simply clean smell of England, sends goosebumps down his skin; he leans further and leans his chin on the head. England tenses, in the middle of picking up his tea again; after a moment, he continues to bring it to his lips, sipping the lukewarm liquid. He spits it out as soon as Spain nuzzles the back of his head and plants butterfly kisses down the back of his neck and to the right, nestling there.

The lips pause in the nape of his neck; England reddens, and shakily places his tea down. Slowly, he reaches up and grabs the dark tresses on his shoulder and shoves them away.

The momentary spell broken, England stands and tucks his morning newspaper under his arm; he stalks out.

Spain stares at the tea, down the rest of the chilled liquid, and lets it drop and shatter on the floor.

-
notes:
1. "Lo siento, gato enojado!" - I'm sorry, angry cat!

30smiles, england, spain

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