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hetalia2009-05-21 10:13 pm
solla-miranta.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2009-05-21 10:13 pm
Entry tags:
[fanfiction] Scars
Title: Scars
Author/Artist: me, Solla Miranta!
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Russia/Finland
Rating: T
Warnings: Um... angst? Possible AUness and it's not historically accurate. Also, a malignant Russia and Finland going insane.
Summary: "I think it would help more if you slept with your face towards me."
Every night when he went to sleep, the last thing Tino saw was the scars on Ivan's neck.
The moon shone bright from the window, and Tino hated it. The light reached Ivan's back and neck, he took off this scarf, settled down to sleep on his side and that's when Tino saw. He had spent far too many sleepless nights memorizing the pattern of the scars; and when he closed his eyes, those red marks flickered in his mind. Even when the morning came and they were sitting at the breakfast table, warming their hands with hot coffee. Tino rubbed his eyes and yawned, Ivan raised his eyebrows.
"Are you tired?" he asked sweetly.
"You must be kidding," Tino muttered behind his coffee cup. "I barely slept last night."
"Why don't you eat those medicines? Didn't they help before?"
Tino tapped his fingers against the table in a familiar beat and let the haunting silence surround them. Ivan didn't turn his gaze away and Tino didn't look. He shoved breadcrumbs around.
"I think that it would help more if you slept with your face towards me."
"The moonlight is blinding."
"Close the curtains."
"It will be too dark."
And Ivan still slept looking the other way, and the thought that the medicine can on the bedside table could transfer the symptoms twenty-four hours forward didn't comfort Tino at all.
But because of Ivan Tino tried to cope with the situation, because he could almost imagine how that would sound to the ears of others. That he couldn't sleep because Ivan slept in a wrong way, a way that wasn't safe to Tino, and that he was too afraid to say it out loud. It was a small price for everything else.
Still Tino would have been ready to give up so many other things if he could wake up looking at Ivan's face and closed eyes even once.
"Ivan? We could sleep the other way around. You can sleep on my side and I can sleep next to the wall. Then we can look at each other. I'm comfortable with the lights, I can sleep like that."
"No. I've always slept next to the wall. You would just be cold, such a small body you have."
Tino trembled.
Ivan knew how to manipulate him.
It had used to be so different; he had pressed his face against Ivan's neck and kissed his skin gently, felt how Ivan stirred under him. Tino couldn't do it anymore because every time his fingers found their way to Ivan's neck, he had to pull them back because the skin felt scabby and tainted. Tino stared at his fingers and could swear that he saw blood and sleepless dreams on them.
He couldn't stand it anymore.
There was nothing on the ceiling of the bedroom, it was just white and white had always been a cold color for Tino. He was lying on his back, looking at the ceiling which wasn't black even during the nights and wondered if he was mad for going insane because of a few scars on Ivan's neck.
Suddenly the world had turned black and white and again he wondered if it was because of the scars after all.
Ivan was breathing calmly next to him and his body was warm, so unbearably warm that Tino wanted to strangle him until it was as cold and pale as the winter morning behind the window.
The scars wouldn't haunt him anymore.
"Ivan."
"Yes?"
"I don't like your scars."
"Really? I'm very sorry."
Tino's hand stroked Ivan's chest. He could have crushed every bone of that body. Because Ivan wasn't sorry, had never been sorry and would never be sorry for what he had done.
It was lonely in the house the next morning after that night. The glassy medicine can was broken on the floor. Tino's footprints still lingered at the front door and then disappeared on the muddy ground.
Author/Artist: me, Solla Miranta!
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Russia/Finland
Rating: T
Warnings: Um... angst? Possible AUness and it's not historically accurate. Also, a malignant Russia and Finland going insane.
Summary: "I think it would help more if you slept with your face towards me."
Every night when he went to sleep, the last thing Tino saw was the scars on Ivan's neck.
The moon shone bright from the window, and Tino hated it. The light reached Ivan's back and neck, he took off this scarf, settled down to sleep on his side and that's when Tino saw. He had spent far too many sleepless nights memorizing the pattern of the scars; and when he closed his eyes, those red marks flickered in his mind. Even when the morning came and they were sitting at the breakfast table, warming their hands with hot coffee. Tino rubbed his eyes and yawned, Ivan raised his eyebrows.
"Are you tired?" he asked sweetly.
"You must be kidding," Tino muttered behind his coffee cup. "I barely slept last night."
"Why don't you eat those medicines? Didn't they help before?"
Tino tapped his fingers against the table in a familiar beat and let the haunting silence surround them. Ivan didn't turn his gaze away and Tino didn't look. He shoved breadcrumbs around.
"I think that it would help more if you slept with your face towards me."
"The moonlight is blinding."
"Close the curtains."
"It will be too dark."
And Ivan still slept looking the other way, and the thought that the medicine can on the bedside table could transfer the symptoms twenty-four hours forward didn't comfort Tino at all.
But because of Ivan Tino tried to cope with the situation, because he could almost imagine how that would sound to the ears of others. That he couldn't sleep because Ivan slept in a wrong way, a way that wasn't safe to Tino, and that he was too afraid to say it out loud. It was a small price for everything else.
Still Tino would have been ready to give up so many other things if he could wake up looking at Ivan's face and closed eyes even once.
"Ivan? We could sleep the other way around. You can sleep on my side and I can sleep next to the wall. Then we can look at each other. I'm comfortable with the lights, I can sleep like that."
"No. I've always slept next to the wall. You would just be cold, such a small body you have."
Tino trembled.
Ivan knew how to manipulate him.
It had used to be so different; he had pressed his face against Ivan's neck and kissed his skin gently, felt how Ivan stirred under him. Tino couldn't do it anymore because every time his fingers found their way to Ivan's neck, he had to pull them back because the skin felt scabby and tainted. Tino stared at his fingers and could swear that he saw blood and sleepless dreams on them.
He couldn't stand it anymore.
There was nothing on the ceiling of the bedroom, it was just white and white had always been a cold color for Tino. He was lying on his back, looking at the ceiling which wasn't black even during the nights and wondered if he was mad for going insane because of a few scars on Ivan's neck.
Suddenly the world had turned black and white and again he wondered if it was because of the scars after all.
Ivan was breathing calmly next to him and his body was warm, so unbearably warm that Tino wanted to strangle him until it was as cold and pale as the winter morning behind the window.
The scars wouldn't haunt him anymore.
"Ivan."
"Yes?"
"I don't like your scars."
"Really? I'm very sorry."
Tino's hand stroked Ivan's chest. He could have crushed every bone of that body. Because Ivan wasn't sorry, had never been sorry and would never be sorry for what he had done.
It was lonely in the house the next morning after that night. The glassy medicine can was broken on the floor. Tino's footprints still lingered at the front door and then disappeared on the muddy ground.
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Thank you for your comment! ♥
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Besides... anyone would go insane if they're not able to sleep for weeks. :D