#daniedrabbles

[endlesscolddreams]

SPY AU FOR RUSAME!!! (but keep it T-rated, please!)

I apologize for the delay! And this is a bit rushed since I did it while working so…

I hope you like it.

The page states that Alfred F. Jones is an high intelligent individual with abnormal strength and a remarkable physical condition.Ivan looks through the file and blinks when reads that his vision is good and is aim is 99.9% accurate, but that he almost never shoots to kill.Impressive yet irresponsible, Ivan muses. That could bring trouble, stop. That brings troubles.As he looks at the man across the room he can not help think about how many deaths that pretty thing already killed. Hundreds in a short time. He can sense the impulsivity of the man through that quick fingers and the live and let live attitude.Ivan is merciful, he has a rather Live and Let die policy and doesn’t allow mistakes. Death quick and clean is always the best option but he notices that the man is not organized at all yet he still covers his tracks surprisingly well. But not well enough.He knows the other is aware of Ivan is and the soft glance the other gave him was enough to deduce he bugged his room. Is okay, he bugged the other’s room too. And the entrance hall of the building, and his seat on the meeting, and his Clothing….Well, is not his fault that the ONU sometimes gets careless and doesn’t realise there are bugs everywhere. And they let spies on their buildings and meetings. Utterly laughable.Idiotic.Ivan is not that idiotic though, he prides himself on his careful planning and cunning manipulation even if this Mr. Jones is as cunning and unpredictable as himself. Not that he minds, he rather enjoys the trill.Still, the fact that there were bugs even on his toilet is a disturbing thing and he wonders if he should check his skin and teeth for little Nano bugging devices. He wouldn’t put past Jones to reach those levels of paranoia. After all he knows better.His burnt skin also knows better since Jones kindly exchanged his sun scream with simple gel as revenge for having his radio only channelling Russian channels.Let’s just say their animosity is nothing new but this situation is.Ivan is a long member of the ONU, rather respected and all but now he has to deal with the new American representative Alfred Jones.Alfred, as good looking as he is, is not match for Ivan careful charming and years of experience but there are more and more women on the board, easily distracted by sunny smiles and blue eyes. Not that he get’s distracted, he is just aware of the danger around them.The rooms are large, filled with people and the scent of dust. A lovely women on his side keeps sneezing but Ivan pays not mind to it. His focus is that boy. Yes, boy- barely a man.The council is charmed by his news ideas and irreverence, at least the Japanese representative has a smile on his usually stoic face and that get’s on Ivan’s nerves quite a bit.Besides today they won’t talk much about subjects that matter. At least not to Mother Russia. So he allows himself to glance around the room cautiously stopping when he feels eyes on him.Of course is the boy, Jones, who looks at him with lips curved upwards and a slight strain on his nose. Ivan knows exactly how Jones feels about him. He doesn’t really care about it.But for his country he pretends to care and smiles to him as sweetly as he can. He has to get on the other’s good graces but he knows that won’t be possible. His fingers move and itch to grab a gun that was confiscated before he was even allowed on the building, his eyes try to narrows on his own and his mouth dries a bit as images of that boy, triumphantly holding his brown folder and red nano-pen. The work of a lifetime stolen in front of his eyes.Ivan was meant to burn it and the boy stole it to do whatever he needed. His career grew but Ivan’s received a rough blow that he obviously replied with all the mastery he could.Alfred’s personal life is on his hands, the boy has no leverage on him anymore and yet it’s unnerving how high he gets even with those limitations. Power usually thrills him, this time makes him uneasy. He doesn’t think much about it though.Jones calls him apart at the break. A glance and a shift of fingers and Ivan allows himself to go.“What do you want?” Ivan asks quickly not wanting to talk with the boy and the boy smirked making him close the distance. Unconsciously trying to intimidate the boy with his cheer size and closeness.“Found You, Braginsky.” He grinned with a wide smile and cheerful demeanour and Ivan frowned.“I looked for you on the right places now I am here… aren’t you glad?” He laughed, loudly and cracking on the edges and Ivan looked around trying to be conspicuous.“What do you want, Jones?” He asked with irritation and the boy smile wider, as if possible, but his eyes were filled with mirth under those fake glasses.“You.” He said shifting closer and Ivan almost stepped away.“Go play with your toys, boy.” Ivan said with a sigh knowing the man was bored and wanted a challenge but Ivan is no longer part of those more intricate spying games, because of him.The rage swells and Alfred knows he hit a nerve, his face shifts to a innocent frown and Ivan continues.“I have no time to childish games, you have what you want. Finish me if you wish but you’ll go down too.” He warned with threatening tone and raising his chin started to walk away. A hand stopped him though and he delightfully imagined his big hand crushing long fingers.“Thought you wanted this back…” Jones smiled handing him the bugs he placed on his table, bedroom and clothes. “I noticed they are American. No longer have Russian aid on that?” he grinned and Ivan grabbed them almost shoving the one’s he found on his room to the boy.“Yours are German, no longer relying on your crappy bugs?” he spat back and Alfred threw a pen to him. His own nano-pen.Ivan looked at it closing his expression, curious and suspicious but Alfred Jones, the boy only smirked.“You don’t need to give mine back.” he murmured walking away and Ivan looked at his hand pursuing his lips. The american may be a good spy but is a confusing individual.Before he could open his mouth Jones turned around and said “Come and get me now, big guy!”And as soon as he said it he disappeared through a corner. Ivan knows better but there’s one thing he hates. Mistakes.And that american is his own mistake, he should have killed him as soon as he could yet, curiously he is glad he didn’t.After all, mother russia may not need his services anymore but there is always a challenge to take care of.He placed the pen on his pocket and walked away to the other way a little bit more cheerful to the next proceeding meetings.

After all, he has a new puzzle to solve and it will be nice to practice his skills.

[endlesscolddreams]

Untitled fools.

Work is boring and I realised I won’t finish part for the zine so I’ll sadly post here a little drabble before finishing the asks. Enjoy. Rusame. Safe, just Implied sex.

 I’s so clinical the way he walks, cynical the way he speaks.  

He could be sensible and try to ignore him but he never was such. He’s impatient, radical.  Ivan is… respectable, presentable and so wrong.  

Yet, when the world is asleep the wrongness of it all run deep inside his veins and he ends up wondering how absurd the situation is; To allow the light inside their secret, the spectator of their dreams and hopes, their inner wish and desire.  

There is no way back from the way he still above Ivan, no way to deny how he needed, wanted this. Whatever this is.  

Alfred is logical but emotion brings him to Ivan, so mechanical, so magical how beautifully he lays asleep on his side. As many times before. 

Ivan tells him to go away and he does. Stories untold and something overwhelming on the confusion of the show they just gave each other.  

Once, Ivan tells him to tell him what and who he is… Alfred thinks a criminal but denies him the thought. He doesn’t allow himself to be stolen so easily because is intimate, hidden between walls and empty words.  

He finds himself telling him about how the sea seems lovely in the dark and Ivan just tells him that it’s is eyes. The show may be over but the night just began.  

Alfred always wondered how would it be to see through Ivan’s eyes.  

Would he see the world bleeding through the cracks of dust? Would he see the steel of the harshness of the flesh?  He guesses he is not ready to listen to a almost-stranger screams, to threaten his pride with the demons on Ivan’s closet but still is intimidatingly beautiful to feel the control over that imposing being. 

To feel tears linger on his eyes from the way Ivan presses his heart kneeling in front of him.  He holds Ivan tight. Tighter than needed but Ivan does the same as if he believes Alfred will cure all the pains, end all the coldness. 

Stop the age from taking away the illusion of youth.  

Alfred knows how it feels to feel the life’s cheating you as you grab and scramble for something.  To feel something. Touch, know… someone.  

To hold the shivering body down as he listens to the grunts of a man, eyes of an enemy, pleads of a lover. He needs to be the owe feeling Ivan, to ear and help him.  

As much as he needs to be allowed the trouble of feeling this hard for someone not quite human.  

Such a fool.  

They are both fools.

[endlesscolddreams]

Space lovers

RATED T! Pairing: Russia/America

Asexual Ivan, somewhere in the spectrum Alfred (not defined).

Universe: Human AU Disclaimer: I do not make profit with this drabbles or own its characters. I apologise for any mistake. Thank you for reading.

It’s a super massive star that Alfred sees when he looks at the sky. He can’t really see it now but he knows it’s there; above.

If he squints he can pretend to see it through the glass but he can’t and smiles despite himself. It’s a beautiful night after all.

Sadly Matthew is long gone to the bed, his friends are all interested in girls and sports and Kiku went to Japan for a few months.

He knows there is another person trying to see the stars this night. After all there will be a meteor shower and even if they won’t see much is enough to make all space lovers want to check it out.

At least he hopes Ivan is watching the sky with his amazed eyes.

He is unsure if Ivan is there watching as lonely as himself but he shrugs it off.

Is not as if he cares that much about the other. Just a little bit… A lot to be honest.

You see, Ivan is his partner in the science project and usually makes him want to scream. He is too calm and shy which grants on his nerves since Alfred is quite loud sometimes and needs to keep moving around. Still they manage to work pretty well when they compromise, which doesn’t happen more often because Ivan is stubborn.

Alfred is sure he explains himself pretty well and is almost always right.

Then there is always the issue of really starting the projects.

Alfred is a disorganized mess and Ivan tries to make him organize things as he wants them. As you can see he will never succumb to the others will so they end up taking almost all their time deciding how to do things. Despite all their differences they manage to finish the projects somehow.

To be completely honest Ivan knows Ivan is a nice partner, Alfred could do much worse. Ivan is quite smart, listens to his ramblings with an amused look and is quite pretty for a man who is almost always with a little smile on his face. A little bit creepy since Ivan is tall, huge and carries an almost dreadful gloom around him. Still Alfred finds all that exhilarating, perhaps because Ivan is always interesting with new things to tell or show him.

Alfred is always hopeful and warm waiting not that patiently for the news Ivan has and more than once Ivan told him, flushing quite ridiculously, that Alfred’s smile is very bright and pretty.

Ivan likes to listen to his laugh, Alfred indulges him. He likes the man for some reason that he can’t pinpoint accurately but knows must be one hell of a reason to put up with Ivan’s moody temper.

And they bonded during those classes and even dared to date…

Dated… This past tense makes Alfred move his nose in distaste.

Besides, Alfred thinks he is different from all those hormonal teenagers with too much on their empty heads always talking about social networks or something just as meaningless. Ivan and Alfred connect on that point, always did.

Ivan finds computers irrelevant even if he does use them to check new curious things and browses the latest NASA files on the deepweb, which is not that illegal if you pretend not to use it. And he kicks ass at Tetris.

Alfred as true curious soul he is loves the internet and shares the space love with the tall guy. He even taught Ivan counter strike and how to prevent Thor hackers into his computer.

Alfred is sure he didn’t need such a bone crushing hug but he is fine with that.

Ivan is a creature of touch; he craves it like a starved man always wanting to hug people or simply stay too close to the others personal space just to feel them there. Alfred finds that curiously amusing.

Alfred also enjoys the touches of Ivan. They are never sexual or malicious.  A pat on the back here, a hug there if you are nice to him or a kiss on the cheek of his sisters that he loves dearly.

Alfred is sure he knows everything about Ivan which scared him in the beginning, now is just a fact of life. As particles divide to create he and Ivan join to complete each other.

But Alfred is not like Ivan in many aspects… Ivan likes to stay quiet and observe, Alfred wants to be in the middle of the action.

Ivan wants privacy and slowly builds things and Alfred simply rushes everything.

Ivan doesn’t care about what others do or say, unless they are friends but Alfred… Well he fucks things up trying to meet peer pressure and be awesome to every single being.

Matthew keeps telling him that they are too close for being just friends but he doesn’t understand them… What they have is good just as it is. But that nagging inside his head kept itching and he is ashamed to submit to the whisper. “If you don’t fuck how the hell do you know you are in love?” they say and Alfred clenches his fists ashamed. Peer pressured and self imposed doubts running on his head. Is it love? They never really had sex.

Alfred sighs and wonders if Ivan will join him to see the skies as they had previously agreed to. He pulls his jacket closer to his skin and flushes not only due the cold air.

A few days ago he did the most shameful thing in the world; he pressured Ivan to make love to him… Ivan as the pleaser he is said yes to his request… He hates that he tried so hard only to crush the trust they had.

Well, they tried but didn’t get to go much further than usual.

Alfred knows Ivan is still mortified about it, he is too and quite nervous of seeing Ivan again. It’s tragic to think that just because he wanted to show his love he ended making them like this… weird with each other; divided.

Lost what they had just because there was this pressure inside him to prove that there’s nothing wrong with them. Ivan never thought there was something wrong, he did.

Well, now he knows there is nothing wrong with them.

In fact, Alfred and Ivan never had much interest in sex. Ivan was pretty much pleased with kissing Alfred and biting his flesh tasting his skin and lips. Alfred was fine with that even if he sometimes wondered how it would feel to have those swollen lips on his dick.

Ivan also never tried more than gropes and feel him so he thought he would have to make that move even if he was not particularly interested in changing what they did. He really got lost when he was with Ivan. Just to talk, lean and feel him close was more than enough to feel content, satisfied and happy.

Kissing him is nice too, really nice and he quite likes to rub against Ivan strong tights even if the prospect of penetrating another or being penetrated didn’t appeal him in the least.

Still they had to have sex to see if they are compatible in every way… right?

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Alfred can’t point what went wrong just that is was not sexy at all. Ivan said that the novels were misleading and he agreed. Porn didn’t look that bad and he even entertained himself looking at it but there’s something strange about the fluids and mess involved.

And he finds Ivan extremely sexy and handsome and knows he looks hot but still. Sex is just not what he thought it was.

There’s a degree of preparation, self consciousness and awareness of every little thing you’d rather ignore. Alfred now sees that is nothing extraordinary even if he does enjoy to feel lips on his dick. He can live without that.

He’s much more interested in holding Ivan and feel his breathing and heart. Much more interested in talking with him.

Ivan doesn’t enjoy sex. He’s okay with that, he found out he was not overly fond of the experience just the intimacy but he has that too without having sex.

Alfred chuckles to himself looking up.

Ivan’s hand on his is so much more intimate than his hand on his crotch.

The way Ivan looks at him, seeing his soul with one long look. The way his arms warp around Alfred making them so unite and peaceful.

Comfort. Alfred enjoys that.

He looks down regretting to have pressured them into something they were not really ready for. He is sure they will never be though.

Is just not appealing, his desires are much more towards the feeling of being with Ivan than sex. It’s a bit useless and while he can see it he can’t find himself that aroused by it.

Step sounds reach his hears and he looks to the side, almost pretending not to care if someone was there.

Ivan had some paper on his hand and walked slowly to him. His face was flushed and his eyes shone in the street light.

Alfred looked up to the sky and felt Ivan stop on his side.

Ivan’s fingers brush his and he closes his eyes swallowing hard before grabbing Ivan’s hand tight with his.

‘’I brought something… about us….’’ Ivan soft voice was near his ear before he could say something he felt Ivan stretching to watch the sky.

‘’Is is about asexuality isn’t it?’’ he asked knowing that himself had researched the same thing right after their encounter.

Ivan hummed in affirmation and Alfred released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

‘’I am sorry.’’ He murmured and leaned to Ivan who shifted to press their arms so close he could almost feel skin through all those layers of clothing.

‘’Don’t. We’re fine.’’ Ivan assured and Alfred took that as forgiveness and hope.

Alfred smiled a bit at how idiotic he has been feeling and acting because he knows there is another person trying to see the stars this night. He is sure Ivan wouldn’t miss that for nothing.

‘’I love ya.’’ Alfred murmurs at Ivan who keeps crushing his hand on his own and Alfred couldn’t feel more peaceful and relieved.

Ivan pressed one kiss to his hair and pointed to the sky.

Yes, it’s love.

And  Is good to be loved like this.

[endlesscolddreams]

beneath the sheets

Main Pairing: Russia/AmericaUniverse: canonverse AU

Warnings: sex mention. Rated T

Disclaimer: I do not make profit with this drabbles or own its characters.

I apologise for any mistake. Thank you for reading.

"Ever wondered what you would be if we were not nations?" America says so softly that Russia thought he was imagining that question.

It was too soft for such a loud vibrant being and Russia shifts on the bed turning to his side facing America with some unease.

America had his blue eyes closed and Russia almost wants to take that wishful look of his face but he won’t, he likes to listen to that wandering mind.

Shifting down a bit, head close to America's and eyes as soft as he can make them, he mumbles truthfully.

"We would never met."

Russia can see America's eyes wanting to open, shifting under thin skin, but they remain still. Closed, as if wanting to hit him for saying so with so much casualty and detachment.

Russia also closes his eyes and feels America's warm breath on his nose. It's ticklish and he tries not to think about it nor the close distance of their bodies.

"Perhaps we would meet either way." America sounds a little bit more forceful than before. Convict.

Russia is not as sure. He knows that America knows that he doesn’t believe in destiny.

He feels the distance between their bodies as an effort, needed effort or they would be touching as lovers would.

Nations can’t be lovers.

They are not used to sleep beside someone, Russia struggles with the need of stealing the blankets and America fights his body to stay still or he would be all over the bed. Nations, contrary to belief, do not sleep with many people on their long lives. Too busy, too detached, too brief. Not worth the effort. If labeled they would be assexual for most of the time, they have no need for some of the luxuries that humans have.

Nations love briefly when they do. They leave bitter when it ends.

They suffer when it lasts. They ignore it when it exists.

Or so, they are meant to do. Forced to do by the strings of immortality.

Yet, here they are. Both still sweated and relaxed from sex, under soft sheets and close enough to feel each other warmth.

Russia sometimes wants to just press closer. Feel America. Just feel him without thinking that he really needs to go.

Needs to go before it's too late and history remembers them. Before it becomes a dreaded fall that will be shown as example to all nations.

Before they are punished by bitterness and longing.

Before America asks him to stay with loving words and touches. ‘You are so beautiful’ America would say touching his cheek and Russia would believe. He always does.

Russia focus again on the present and senses America's hand closing and opening under the sheet. Never sure of what to do at those still moments between them.

"We still would be worlds apart."

Russia murmurs and is sure that his sadness at that thought slipped through his tone due America's a soft blush on his cheeks, chest, neck.

He doesn't regret that America knows. America always knows beneath the oblivious facade.

America who talks about humans as they are such magnificent beings, who envies their ability to love deeply and die for it. America who tells stories of heroes, big gestures of love and incredible journeys through the world under pulsing stars. Hand in hand with Russia but still not close enough to touch.

"You could come to me…"

America sounds sure but Russia knows that would not be truth.

Russia decides to stay silent. Though, he can't help but think about how brilliant and idiotic is at the same time.

Brilliant enough not to touch him, idiotic enough to dare the world to listen to such silly romantic empty words.

Still, Russia smiles at the thought. The soft promise of connection.

They would be able to hold each other until the morning. They would make love not sex.

They would be able to show the world that they can be together and have such a fragile thing between them.

Thin as ice, colder than the depths of the sea, warmer than the sun itself.

Such a silly thing to wish.

The end of a nation loneliness and Russia wants to leave. It hurts.

This, whatever this is hurts. Russia never handles pain. Never learnt how even with centuries of suffering.

America opens his blue eyes.

"Stay."

It sounds like a dare and Russia never fails America.

He needs to go away.

Unconsciously he notices America's drool on the pillow, the slight growth of his hair, the blue, blue eyes that challenge him.

They still look soft. Soft blue as the sea of his cold still waters at home.

They still look as the ones that he saw once, filled with life, warmth, strength, loving as deeply cold within.

Russia can't move. His limbs are heavy, unmoving.

He wishes for a second that the history doesn't remember him as the fool who fell first.

It hurts and he will never admit that.

Nations don’t agonize and despair for such silly ideals of love. Foolish humans do.

America closes his eyes again. Shifts one hand to touch his arm and Russia swallows feeling his throat closing around the void and spit making a pressure that almost hurts.

He stays.

Far away enough to feel America's warmth, close enough to fall.

He never replied that question and is sure America wouldn’t have told him either.

After all they are still suspicious nations instinctively seeking leverage and survival.

[endlesscolddreams]

say something

Pairing: Rusame Russia/America

angst (why!? I ask myself but it’s all I can write…)

Warnings: None

He doesn’t know what he is doing anymore. America needs a clue, something, but he is losing hope. America is not used to that or to give up on things. But he is changing. So is Russia. Yesterday, Russia did it again. With a look, just a twist on eyebrows and lips meant to him, America followed Russia… Everyone knows the on going thing they have but no one mentions it. America is glad for it. He is not sure what Russia thinks, though.

Inside heavy walls Russia kisses him, touches him, makes love to him and if he notices something strange on America’s behaviour he doesn’t say anything. He never says a thing. America is tired of the silence. Still, he enjoys the soft sounds that Russia makes. He is sure no one else listens to them and knows them by heart as he does. That doesn’t brings him pride or glee. It hurts. He needs a reason carry on with what they have. He thinks so. If Russia keeps hiding and barely present he is not sure if its worth it… He does love him but he can’t feel Russia’s love. Their countries, miles apart, lose themselves on their issues. Nation wise he doesn’t trust Russia at all, never did. Still, he has a human side. Both have and America’s human side is tired to fight for both. Making excuses to meet him when he misses their appointments. Telling everyone that they still hold their human side with control and care. He does. Russia… Again, he is not sure.

They are both babies, relationship wise. They are learning to compromise, to try and not be selfish. To understand their differences. To allow and admit their similarities to themselves. Is difficult when you are used to be by yourself. Harder when you are a nation. They stumble, fall, raise, fall again. America thinks they are learning these human things together. Sometimes he feels that he is doing both parts alone. He feels alone and it hurts is pride to admit that. Specially when Russia is so close to touch but keeps apart. Russia keeps to himself, smiles softly, thinks too much and too silently. Careful and hesitantly he gives what he thinks he can give. America knows he can give more, can allow himself to get more. Russia doesn’t believe in him. He prefers to carefully do things. Open himself to novelty slowly and steadily afraid to fall. Afraid to lose himself. America can understand that. Yet, he can’t. He doesn’t need to hold himself near America. America can take whatever he has and more. America knows Russia can handle him like that too. It’s safe. Comfortable. When Russia allows it to be. America knows Russia can love too deeply but he doesn’t allow himself to be loved so much. Still, America wants more. Not much more, just sound. Russia’s words and voice. Just to feel that Russia is there. Feel him talk and admit that he is also scared, that he is also committed to whatever they have. Just tell America his thoughts instead of look at him with small smiles. On the worst days paranoia fills his human side and America thinks Russia is mocking him. Underneath sheets he thinks Russia may like him just as deeply as he likes him. Always an optimist, America thinks but can’t help to lose hope on Russia. He won’t do such thing to Russia who tells him how truly gorgeous America is, how truly happy he makes him. America saves him everyday and America needs to feel that he is saving someone when truly, Russia is the one saving him from loneliness.

But today, today he just needs a word. Some word. Something to ease his mind. They look at each other. America is on the chair, next to the bed dressing his boots and Russia is in the bed reading the newspaper. Economics, America notices with distaste but ignores it. “Can you say something?” America knows he sounds harsh, petulant even. Russia seems unfazed through it, shifting his newspaper lower to sign his attention. “What do you wish me to tell?” His tone is deliberately restrained and distant. America finishes tying the bootlaces roughly. “Where do we stand Russia?” Not very wise or prudent, America knows it but he is so tired, enraged even. Why won’t he show himself more to America? Say something damn it! “What do you mean?” Russia folds the newspaper and looks at him, confused and wary. “We’ve been doing this for decades… are we something?” America is not sure if the look Russia give him is for the tone or the question itself. Both, he guesses since the room seems colder as Russia’s eyes, guarded, get a purple hint. Irritation? Sadness? America can’t be sure. “Do we have to be something?” He asks instead. Fake but practised casualty that irritates America. “I do’know… friends with benefits? Boyfriends?” He says irritated and sounds immature even to himself. He gets up and paces as Russia keeps silently watching him. That irritates him further. He knows what Russia is doing. He doesn’t like to feel observed and analysed. America wonders how many people were given that completely guarded look. He almost feels Russia’s head turning possibilities for his behaviour. Nerve wrecking. America won’t admit that he needs something to reassure himself. He goes for the easiest way possible, at least some that has been bugging him. “Do you sleep around?” They never talked about it and when Russia keeps silent he almost wishes the yells he often listens between the Europeans. They at least say whatever is on their minds. “Do you?” Russia concedes straightening his back. Protecting himself against a possible blow, America notices. America also has his answer, of course not. He feels a big idiot. He pursues his lips and holds the bridge of his nose, above his glasses. “Then tell me something Russia…” america says tiredly feeling exhausted and needing to go back to the bed and delete all this incident brought by himself. He doesn’t know why he still tries to bring needless things up. To get reactions he guesses. “I am trying here.” he finishes lamely and Russia’s voice sounds colder than ever to his warm ears. “What do you want america? “I am asking you for something. Anything!” America gestures vaguely in irritation and senses Russia calm down making him calm down too. “Something?” Russia sounds unsure, barely but America catches it. “Forget I said anything.” America says self consciously and sighs. Now he wants to leave. Wants to be alone. Understand why he is acting like this. Edgy, strange. So he walks towards the door stopping when he hears Russia cleaning his throat. “I only have you.” he sounds pained. Too proud to admit such personal thing and America smiles softly still looking at the door. Russia gave him something. Something precious, only for him. He still wants to leave so he opens it. It hurts to leave like this but he needs before saying anything else that ruins the moment. “See you next time, Russia.” Before he closes the door he listens Russia’s soft goodbye and knows Russia is not mad at him. But he is mad at himself. He got something. Russia gave him something and he felt the need to leave. He wants more. He is not sure what he wants Russia to say but he is afraid of what he may want to hear. America leaves Russia but his mind was left under those sheets beside Russia and he feels lonely and cold without him. The burden of a nation, England told him once. The bastard never taught him to handle it. Now it hurts. He doesn’t want the hurt to go and it leaves him even more frustrated. He needs to go back to Russia but refrains. America keeps walking away. He doesn’t want to listen to anything now.

[endlesscolddreams]

Dayly sentence thing.

There was a thing my therapist told me to do since I am stuck and can`t write so I will do it. Is one to 3 sentences each day. You may all do this. I will tag this as daylysentence so you can track if you wish… or not. Pairings will be mostly Rusame/Amerus and Fruk/Ukfr but others may come. I’ll tag it.

For today, day um. (number in portuguese because is fun.)

His mouth was tightly shut. Jaw clenched in a way that made his whole teeth ache inside strong cheeks. His fist was hidden but clenched and whitish due the pressure and his eyes, blue focussed eyes, were moving quickly through the two figures talking on the other side of the street. Ivan was talking with Toris. Ivan was touching his arm and smiling softly and Toris pressed closer to listen to him in the crowd. There was a flush on their cheeks but Alfred can’t discern if is due the cold or their encounter. Alfred feels jealousy crawling on his stomach and growing on his mind. His heart hurt and he wanted to go there and just punch both. His EX, Ivan said once and Toris never denied it. Always fond of Ivan somehow an Alfred blood boiled with rage. But he was also going towards his friend Kiku. Kiku who disliked Ivan and sometimes pressed soft kisses on his skin, his lips. Not the same passion or sweetness of Ivan but still… Alfred felt bitter, guilty and most of all enraged. What were they doing? Leaving each other after a fight to find comfort in someone else’s arms? They love each other, they do. He knows but since that nagging tension made itself known they have been drifting apart. Alfred feels lonely and knows Ivan feels the same. Is his own fault for getting drunk and use Kiku on that fight they had? Is Ivan’s fault for being always working and away from him? He decided not to think about it and go to Kiku. He will know what to say. He knows what he will say but he doesn't want to. He wants Ivan. He needs Ivan. he loves Ivan. He walks away, doesn’t look back not wanting to feel guilty just yet. He misses how Ivan notices him and waves then turn to Toris who looks worried and hugs him. He misses how Ivan hugs back and goes with Toris somewhere else to not think about them.

Sorry for the angst… I feel bad…