A collection of silly drabbles for the @hetaliawritersdiscord latest drabble night that somehow fit together! (I promise I have,, actual fics lined up)
featuring: -Belarus/Estonia -Bulgaria/Hungary ft Romania -Australia/Seychelles -Norway/Romania
Belarus/Estonia nightfall
“I told you we were going the wrong way,” Nadzeya tells him.
“Yes, well—” Eduard pushes his glasses up. Glances at her. She’s got her feet up on the dashboard of his car, her seat tilted back, and is cleaning her nails with a small knife that she must have been hiding somewhere on herself. This despite the fact that her dress is skin-tight and she isn’t wearing any shoes. Eduard is kind of impressed and, as always, weirdly turned on.
They are definitely going the wrong way, he has to admit. But he also has to admit that, even if they’re going to miss half of the wedding they’re supposed to be going to, he doesn’t actually mind so much. It’s not like he knows Nadzeya’s distant cousin that well, anyway.
“Keep going,” she says, smirking in that mischievous way he loves, so he does, and drives until nightfall.
Bulgaria/Hungary ft Romania candlelight
Erzsébet looks about ready to beat someone up.
And by someone, Stefan means Dragos. He’s kind of inclined to agree this time. The man may be his best friend, and he and Erzsébet may have reached some sort of truce in the past few months, but that doesn’t mean he can—
“It’s not fucking funny, Rotaru!” Erzsébet yells.
“It’s kinda funny.” Dragos’s thin lips twitch as his rust-brown gaze flicks between her and Stefan. “Mrs Borisov.”
“Héderváry-Borisov, thank you.” Candlelight bathes her angular face in strange shadows, and Stefan has to smile. Sure, Dragos has turned off the electricity during their wedding, but that’s just who he is. No event would be complete without his weird pranks.
“Listen,” he says, and they both turn to him, his wife and his best friend. “Dragos, go find someone who can sing. We’ll do the first dance by candlelight.”
Australia/Seychelles desert
“No, no, it’s definitely that way,” David says, pointing down the dusky road. The woman also trying to help the (pretty unconcerned) couple find their way to a wedding shakes her head, brushing dark curls against his biceps.
“You’re sending them straight into the desert!”
“Am not!” he says, but by then the man driving the car has figured out he’s got reception here and looked up the right route on his phone.
They watch the car drive in the direction the woman had pointed out, David feeling rather sullen.
“Told you,” she says, looking up at him and winking, before turning and walking away.
“Hey, hold up!” David calls after her. “There’s way more than desert in that direction, you’re missing out.”
She turns, laughs beautifully. “Yeah? Show me?”
Her name is Angélique, and David shows her everything.
Norway/Romania hidden
Dragos finds him hiding behind the cake in the shadows the candles cast on the room, still visible because of his pale skin and hair. The man’s eyes, though, are dark.
“Hey Einar.”
“Hello, Dragos.”
They look at each other across the darkness for a while, both probably remembering the last time they met at the wedding of either of their best friends. Dragos would be lying if he said the thought of it happening again hasn’t crossed his mind.
“You really turned the electricity off?” Einar asks eventually.
“Yeah, Erzsébet is pissed.” He grins. “But hey, I haven’t seen her and Stef in a while.”
Einar just nods, gaze on Dragos.
“We haven’t seen each other in a while either,” Dragos continues, because he’s had a little too much champagne and feels courageous.
“So we haven’t.” Einar’s lips part. “We should catch up.”
“We definitely should.”
No one sees them again for the rest of the night.