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hetalia2010-07-03 06:42 pm
sakou-bielefelt.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2010-07-03 06:42 pm
Entry tags:
[Fic] Take Me Home
Title: Take Me Home
Author/Artist: Me :3 (dA account)
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Lithuania x Poland, Russia, Belarus (briefly)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mild violence, blood
Summary: Toris is being held captive by Ivan during the Soviet occupation. Feliks tries to come to his rescue after a desperate cry for help.
dA link ||| FF.net link
Toris subconsciously twirled the phone line between his fingers, something he had picked up during his time with Ivan. It was somewhat soothing for the Lithuanian, this simple mundane action. Something even more soothing than this little habit of his was hearing Feliks' voice over the receptor; no matter how great the distance between them, they were always "one" and that, nobody could destroy.
"Toris? Are you listening?" questioned the blonde, pulling his friend from his reverie.
"Um? Sorry, what?"
"Geez Toris, pay attention! I was like, saying that Elizavéta is totally with Roderich right? Then, what's up with Gilbert and-"
The brunette tuned out again, leaning his head against the cold stone wall of his room. He closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself to be taken in by his soul mate's voice. The words did not matter to Toris, as long as the right person spoke them.
"Feliks ..." he mumbled inaudibly
"Huh? What did you say? I think there's like, static or something ..."
"Feliks ... save me, please" he whispered into the phone, instantly stopping his friend's rant.
"Toris like, you know I will, right?"
"I ... I can't hold on much longer ... please, before I forget ..." he trailed off before a choked sob escaped his lips.
If there was one thing in the world the Lithuanian cared about, it was his souvenirs of better days, golden fields, radiant smiles and the face of his lover. He longed for those days, and yearned for Feliks' face.
"Toris ... I'll totally come to get you and then, we can like, go home together. I love-"
*Click*
Toris opened his eyes only to see the massive stature of the Russian, hovering above him, a long and lean finger pressed firmly atop the telephone. An evil smiled appeared on his face as he leaned in closer, whispering, "You've been a bad boy, my love".
He shivered against the cold wall, endlessly twirling the line between his fingers.
"Why did you call him?" he questioned coldly.
Toris remained stoic. "Did you not hear me? Why did you call him?" he repeated with more insistence. When Toris failed to reply a suitable answer, his head came crashing against the stonewall behind him. He felt a warm liquid leak down his neck before the sickening smell of his own blood reached him. His partner's silence was irritating Ivan and his eyes were turning wild at the sight of pain.
"I don't care what he told you, but it was all a lie" he spat, grabbing Toris by both arms and squeezing tightly. "He's using you"
"Yao uses you" simply replied the smaller Lithuanian.
Ivan struck him hard across the face, his other hand enclosed around the young man's throat. "Don't you dare speak about him" he growled in a murderous tone. "That Pole of yours is the only hypocrite. He abandoned you".
"He loves me"
"No he doesn't"
"He loves me" repeated Toris with unabashed confidence.
"I said, he doesn't"
"He does"
"I SAID NO!" screamed Ivan, a few inches from Toris' face. "I'm the only one who loves you!" he added before throwing the small red telephone against the wall, causing it to shatter into a thousand little pieces.
"No Ivan, you don't. You might think you do, but you don't" replied the brunette, without a hint of pain or fright.
The Russian punched him hard in the stomach, causing Toris to cough up a substantial amount of blood. "You don't know what you're talking about!" Punching, kicking and screaming was his way of showing emotion and expressing his feelings, even if this ended up hurting the ones he loved.
"Feliks has gentle hands"
"Stop" he replied feebly.
"His smile is warm –"
"Stop!"
"– his touch is –"
"STOP IT!!!" he yelled helplessly.
Toris watched as the tall Russian man contorted as if being tortured by an invisible hand. He reminded him of a small child, throwing a tantrum because he was being told 'no'.
"Feliks never hurt me. He's always been there to help me and my brothers. He's never laid a finger on me, he just wouldn't".
"Toris! How can you still side with him after all he's done? He is not a good man! He might well be even worse than me!" concluded Ivan. "He murdered my people, for centuries on end, invaded my country, killed my friends and allies. He –"
"It wasn't him!" interrupted Toris, showing the first signs of emotions since the beginning of their exchange. "It was all for me, he fought for me!"
"Don't flatter yourself Toris, your so called 'friend' wanted power. Isn't that what every man on earth desires? Even you, my beloved, have been tempted by the lustre of strength and domination. Will you deny your own history?"
Toris recoiled on himself, pressing his back against the wall, as strongly as he could. He shook his head violently from side to side, his hair wiping at his eyes. "I ... I dislike power, I do not lust for it ... I –"
"Liar" spat the Russian.
"I ... no ... that was a long time ago, I've changed! Ivan, you know that, right?" he inquired avidly.
"Yes, I know"
Toris sighed in relief, before realizing he was still caught in a precarious situation, with the imposing man currently straddling his legs.
"That's exactly why I need to keep you by my side, so that you don't, how to say, act up again" he responded with a wicked grin spreading across his face. Ivan raised a firm hand to Toris' collar, unfastening the buttons of his shirt as he went. Toris shivered uncontrollably as Ivan hand's wandered over the bruising on his stomach.
"Ivan ... please, don't" he pleaded in a half whimper.
"Shhh, you need to stay still my love, there's no need to hurt you more"
Soon, chapped lips came down upon his own, churning his stomach in the process. Ivan's cold tyrian eyes locked on his soft brown ones as his hands moved up and down his back, all the while tracing the deep scars left by his hand. Toris remained motionless, determined not to respond to the kiss nor the touch. As Ivan tried to excite him, the Lithuanian grabbed hold of his infamous scarf, tugging at it, chocking his assailant with the soft fabric. Ivan smiled more, before ripping it from Toris' locked hands and throwing it aside. He leaned in more onto the young man, pressing his face to his, plunging in deeply into his sweet taste.
Feliks ran up the icy steps which led to Ivan's house and rapped furiously against the massive doors. He rapidly retracted his hand from the handle, as if burned by the cold. He stopped his knocking and, furrowing his brows, decided to shoulder the doors instead. The more the small polish man pushed against the fortress, the less it moved. Finally, he stood back, panting, and called out at the top of his lungs, throwing his head backwards and yelling to the sky:
"LIEEEEEEEEET !!!"
Hot tears streamed down his face as he fell to his knees, desperate and helpless. He yelled out until his throat couldn't bear the pain any longer. By then, someone from inside the walls had heard him pleading, and opened the door wide open. A young girl appeared in the doorway, her long blond hair flowing through the wind.
"Feliks, is that you? What are you doing here?" she asked in a screechy voice.
He raised his head to see her face and recognized her immediately, "Natasha! Thank God, please, let me in!" he pleaded more, grasping at the front of her apron.
"I can't do that Feli, Nii-san will get angry. He doesn't like you very much..."
"I know ... but I have to get in there! I have to get Toris back!"
"Toris? Ah, you mean Nii-san's new toy..." she said with an unconcealed sadness. "Ever since he's joined our house, Nii-san only cares about him ... he doesn't play with me anymore" she replied, child-like.
"Let me in Natasha, I'll take Toris away from Ivan and then, you can have him all to yourself. How does that sound?" replied Feliks, knowing very well that the girl had a profound 'brother complex'.
"O-ok ... but if anyone asks, I didn't see you. Got that?"
"Yes, I promise."
Natasha stood aside to let him into the house. The first thing Feliks noticed about the interior was the lack of warmth. The walls were painted a dull grey, the lighting was too dim, and the furniture was minimalistic. No wonder Ivan was obsessed with sunshine and flowery fields. His house was anything but.
Feliks made his way through the corridors, up and down some steep staircases until he came to halt before a bolted door. He figured this was where Toris was being kept. With all his strength, he called out through the door and addressed his long time nemesis.
"Cześć! Muscovy. Co u ciebie słychać?"
"How dare you speak to me in that filthy language?" replied the infuriated Russian.
"Pogadajmy!" taunted Feliks through the thick iron doors.
"What are you even doing here in the first place? I've nothing to say to you, go back to your own home. Оставьте меня в покое!" he said, refusing to reply in Polish.
"I won't leave without Liet!" replied Feliks, inching closer to the door. "Let me see him, that's an order!"
"Order? Ha ha ha ha! As if you have any right to order me" answered Ivan. "You've since long lost that power, Feliks".
"Wypraszam sobie!" shot Feliks with an angry tone. "You're pathetic, you know that? Why must you always bully everyone else? Why can't you just be a normal person, for once? Let Toris go! He's not your toy! He's allowed his freedom just as anyone else!"
"Fine. You want him so badly? Then take him. Let's see if you precious Lietuva will regain his former cheerfulness. Once you've had enough of him, send him back to my place, ok?" replied Ivan, equally angry.
Feliks heard the door unbolt itself and soon after, saw it swing open with sheer force. Ivan stepped out, as tall and massive as Feliks remembered him, and leaned over the blonde with an evil grin. "Go" he whispered ominously, "Your love awaits". Feliks noticed the blood on his clothing and his ripped scarf causing him to twitch in both fright and anger.
"Oh, that?" pointed Ivan to his blood stained self. "That's most likely transfer from our previous encounter" he spoke before turning on his heels and walking away, whistling a perfect rendition of Gimn Rossiyskoy Federatsii.
Feliks wildly crashed in the compound and laid his eyes upon his betrothed. Toris was sprawled on the floor, covered in bruises all over his naked body. He stood motionless as Feliks approached him cautiously, his eyes transfixed on an imaginary scene. The Pole knelt beside him, cradling his broken body to his chest while tears sprung anew from his emerald eyes.
"Toris... what has he done to you? ... Toris ..." he trailed off, burying his face in the other's tangled hair.
Toris blinked slowly, coming to realization of his situation and let out an incomprehensible sound. He gagged and coughed in order to clear his throat, just enough to pronounce his most favourite word, "Feliks".
"Toris...? Are you ... alright?" asked Feliks tentatively.
"F-Fe ... Fel ..." he tried to speak, which caused him to cough up some blood.
"Shh ... don't say anything, I'm taking you home. We-" started Feliks, but was interrupted by Toris' fingers on his mouth.
"Aš … Aš tave … myliu" he said, with great difficulty. "Aš tave myliu" he spoke with a gentle smile. "Aš tave myliu" he repeated once more, as the light faded from his eyes.
"Toris?" asked the Pole with a quivering voice. "Toris, answer me! Toris! Toris! TORIS!!!!"
A few weeks later
Toris was sitting in his bed, comfortably propped up with pillows when Feliks walked in carrying a plate of various foods. He smiled gently at his caregiver, extending a bandaged hand onto his lap. The sun was warm on Toris' skin and played on his hair, creating fiery highlights. He couldn't have been happier.
"Toris! Like, I totally made you some soup 'cuz like, I read that it's good for sick people and, well, I figured you could use some. I also brought you some bread 'cuz like, it's awesome for you skin and apparently, it's got some properties that help eyesight, though you totally don't need it, but still, better safe than sorry!" babbled Feliks in his usual speech pattern, falling back into old habits.
The Lithuanian laughed heartily at his friend's speech. "Feliks, you didn't have to go through all that trouble. I'm doing a lot better, thanks to you".
"Like, you were dead just a few days ago ... well, not exactly dead, but close to it! I don't want you to die again" rationalized Feliks.
"How can I 'die again' if I haven't died in the first place?"
"Oh, never mind, you know what I mean!" replied the Pole, blushing with embarrassment. "By the way, you got a letter today! Here" he said before thrusting the small envelope into Toris' hands.
He picked it up and immediately recognized the lyrical handwriting of his brother Edward. Toris smiled at this, before placing it on his nightstand.
"Aren't you like, gonna read it?" asked Feliks with much curiosity.
"No, I know what he's written inside."
"What's that?"
"Most likely, he'll be telling me off for disappearing for so long, and not calling home ... and Raivis will have incorporated a small footnote saying how much Ed doesn't mean half of his rants."
"That's nice" replied Feliks.
"What is?" said Toris, picking up on the other man's sadness.
"Well, like, when you're all better and stuff, you're gonna go back home to your brothers, right? 'Cuz like, that's your place, isn't it? And they'll be so happy ... you won't be coming back here because you'll be too busy and-"
"Feliks!" interjected Toris "I ... I can't stay here but, don't say that I won't come back because, I will!"
"Yeah like, in another century or something..." trailed off the Pole as he hung his head low.
"No ... that's not true I-"
"It's ok, I understand."
Not knowing what to do to cheer Feliks up, Toris pushed aside the food with great care and wrapped his arms around his saviour, embracing him tightly. Feliks blushed wildly but, nonetheless, responded by mimicking Toris' moves.
"What I said back there - when we were in Russia - still stands. I love you. I love you more than anything else! Even my freedom isn't as loved as you are!" he spoke with great conviction. "Won't you finish what you were saying a few months ago, before Ivan cut off our communication?" he asked, barely above a whisper.
Feliks could tell that his words were from the heart and that he truly loved him like no other. Stroking the back of his head, his other arm holding the brunette with unexpected strength, he replied to his long time friend, lover and soul mate:
"I love you too" he whispered. "Please don't take a century to come back 'cuz like, that would totally suck."
Toris smiled into his shoulder and spoke honestly once more: "I'll try my best".
The End.
.~.~.~.~.
TRANSLATIONS
Author/Artist: Me :3 (dA account)
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Lithuania x Poland, Russia, Belarus (briefly)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mild violence, blood
Summary: Toris is being held captive by Ivan during the Soviet occupation. Feliks tries to come to his rescue after a desperate cry for help.
dA link ||| FF.net link
╬ Take me Home ╬
Toris subconsciously twirled the phone line between his fingers, something he had picked up during his time with Ivan. It was somewhat soothing for the Lithuanian, this simple mundane action. Something even more soothing than this little habit of his was hearing Feliks' voice over the receptor; no matter how great the distance between them, they were always "one" and that, nobody could destroy.
"Toris? Are you listening?" questioned the blonde, pulling his friend from his reverie.
"Um? Sorry, what?"
"Geez Toris, pay attention! I was like, saying that Elizavéta is totally with Roderich right? Then, what's up with Gilbert and-"
The brunette tuned out again, leaning his head against the cold stone wall of his room. He closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself to be taken in by his soul mate's voice. The words did not matter to Toris, as long as the right person spoke them.
"Feliks ..." he mumbled inaudibly
"Huh? What did you say? I think there's like, static or something ..."
"Feliks ... save me, please" he whispered into the phone, instantly stopping his friend's rant.
"Toris like, you know I will, right?"
"I ... I can't hold on much longer ... please, before I forget ..." he trailed off before a choked sob escaped his lips.
If there was one thing in the world the Lithuanian cared about, it was his souvenirs of better days, golden fields, radiant smiles and the face of his lover. He longed for those days, and yearned for Feliks' face.
"Toris ... I'll totally come to get you and then, we can like, go home together. I love-"
*Click*
Toris opened his eyes only to see the massive stature of the Russian, hovering above him, a long and lean finger pressed firmly atop the telephone. An evil smiled appeared on his face as he leaned in closer, whispering, "You've been a bad boy, my love".
He shivered against the cold wall, endlessly twirling the line between his fingers.
"Why did you call him?" he questioned coldly.
Toris remained stoic. "Did you not hear me? Why did you call him?" he repeated with more insistence. When Toris failed to reply a suitable answer, his head came crashing against the stonewall behind him. He felt a warm liquid leak down his neck before the sickening smell of his own blood reached him. His partner's silence was irritating Ivan and his eyes were turning wild at the sight of pain.
"I don't care what he told you, but it was all a lie" he spat, grabbing Toris by both arms and squeezing tightly. "He's using you"
"Yao uses you" simply replied the smaller Lithuanian.
Ivan struck him hard across the face, his other hand enclosed around the young man's throat. "Don't you dare speak about him" he growled in a murderous tone. "That Pole of yours is the only hypocrite. He abandoned you".
"He loves me"
"No he doesn't"
"He loves me" repeated Toris with unabashed confidence.
"I said, he doesn't"
"He does"
"I SAID NO!" screamed Ivan, a few inches from Toris' face. "I'm the only one who loves you!" he added before throwing the small red telephone against the wall, causing it to shatter into a thousand little pieces.
"No Ivan, you don't. You might think you do, but you don't" replied the brunette, without a hint of pain or fright.
The Russian punched him hard in the stomach, causing Toris to cough up a substantial amount of blood. "You don't know what you're talking about!" Punching, kicking and screaming was his way of showing emotion and expressing his feelings, even if this ended up hurting the ones he loved.
"Feliks has gentle hands"
"Stop" he replied feebly.
"His smile is warm –"
"Stop!"
"– his touch is –"
"STOP IT!!!" he yelled helplessly.
Toris watched as the tall Russian man contorted as if being tortured by an invisible hand. He reminded him of a small child, throwing a tantrum because he was being told 'no'.
"Feliks never hurt me. He's always been there to help me and my brothers. He's never laid a finger on me, he just wouldn't".
"Toris! How can you still side with him after all he's done? He is not a good man! He might well be even worse than me!" concluded Ivan. "He murdered my people, for centuries on end, invaded my country, killed my friends and allies. He –"
"It wasn't him!" interrupted Toris, showing the first signs of emotions since the beginning of their exchange. "It was all for me, he fought for me!"
"Don't flatter yourself Toris, your so called 'friend' wanted power. Isn't that what every man on earth desires? Even you, my beloved, have been tempted by the lustre of strength and domination. Will you deny your own history?"
Toris recoiled on himself, pressing his back against the wall, as strongly as he could. He shook his head violently from side to side, his hair wiping at his eyes. "I ... I dislike power, I do not lust for it ... I –"
"Liar" spat the Russian.
"I ... no ... that was a long time ago, I've changed! Ivan, you know that, right?" he inquired avidly.
"Yes, I know"
Toris sighed in relief, before realizing he was still caught in a precarious situation, with the imposing man currently straddling his legs.
"That's exactly why I need to keep you by my side, so that you don't, how to say, act up again" he responded with a wicked grin spreading across his face. Ivan raised a firm hand to Toris' collar, unfastening the buttons of his shirt as he went. Toris shivered uncontrollably as Ivan hand's wandered over the bruising on his stomach.
"Ivan ... please, don't" he pleaded in a half whimper.
"Shhh, you need to stay still my love, there's no need to hurt you more"
Soon, chapped lips came down upon his own, churning his stomach in the process. Ivan's cold tyrian eyes locked on his soft brown ones as his hands moved up and down his back, all the while tracing the deep scars left by his hand. Toris remained motionless, determined not to respond to the kiss nor the touch. As Ivan tried to excite him, the Lithuanian grabbed hold of his infamous scarf, tugging at it, chocking his assailant with the soft fabric. Ivan smiled more, before ripping it from Toris' locked hands and throwing it aside. He leaned in more onto the young man, pressing his face to his, plunging in deeply into his sweet taste.
~.~.~.~.~.
Feliks ran up the icy steps which led to Ivan's house and rapped furiously against the massive doors. He rapidly retracted his hand from the handle, as if burned by the cold. He stopped his knocking and, furrowing his brows, decided to shoulder the doors instead. The more the small polish man pushed against the fortress, the less it moved. Finally, he stood back, panting, and called out at the top of his lungs, throwing his head backwards and yelling to the sky:
"LIEEEEEEEEET !!!"
Hot tears streamed down his face as he fell to his knees, desperate and helpless. He yelled out until his throat couldn't bear the pain any longer. By then, someone from inside the walls had heard him pleading, and opened the door wide open. A young girl appeared in the doorway, her long blond hair flowing through the wind.
"Feliks, is that you? What are you doing here?" she asked in a screechy voice.
He raised his head to see her face and recognized her immediately, "Natasha! Thank God, please, let me in!" he pleaded more, grasping at the front of her apron.
"I can't do that Feli, Nii-san will get angry. He doesn't like you very much..."
"I know ... but I have to get in there! I have to get Toris back!"
"Toris? Ah, you mean Nii-san's new toy..." she said with an unconcealed sadness. "Ever since he's joined our house, Nii-san only cares about him ... he doesn't play with me anymore" she replied, child-like.
"Let me in Natasha, I'll take Toris away from Ivan and then, you can have him all to yourself. How does that sound?" replied Feliks, knowing very well that the girl had a profound 'brother complex'.
"O-ok ... but if anyone asks, I didn't see you. Got that?"
"Yes, I promise."
Natasha stood aside to let him into the house. The first thing Feliks noticed about the interior was the lack of warmth. The walls were painted a dull grey, the lighting was too dim, and the furniture was minimalistic. No wonder Ivan was obsessed with sunshine and flowery fields. His house was anything but.
Feliks made his way through the corridors, up and down some steep staircases until he came to halt before a bolted door. He figured this was where Toris was being kept. With all his strength, he called out through the door and addressed his long time nemesis.
"Cześć! Muscovy. Co u ciebie słychać?"
"How dare you speak to me in that filthy language?" replied the infuriated Russian.
"Pogadajmy!" taunted Feliks through the thick iron doors.
"What are you even doing here in the first place? I've nothing to say to you, go back to your own home. Оставьте меня в покое!" he said, refusing to reply in Polish.
"I won't leave without Liet!" replied Feliks, inching closer to the door. "Let me see him, that's an order!"
"Order? Ha ha ha ha! As if you have any right to order me" answered Ivan. "You've since long lost that power, Feliks".
"Wypraszam sobie!" shot Feliks with an angry tone. "You're pathetic, you know that? Why must you always bully everyone else? Why can't you just be a normal person, for once? Let Toris go! He's not your toy! He's allowed his freedom just as anyone else!"
"Fine. You want him so badly? Then take him. Let's see if you precious Lietuva will regain his former cheerfulness. Once you've had enough of him, send him back to my place, ok?" replied Ivan, equally angry.
Feliks heard the door unbolt itself and soon after, saw it swing open with sheer force. Ivan stepped out, as tall and massive as Feliks remembered him, and leaned over the blonde with an evil grin. "Go" he whispered ominously, "Your love awaits". Feliks noticed the blood on his clothing and his ripped scarf causing him to twitch in both fright and anger.
"Oh, that?" pointed Ivan to his blood stained self. "That's most likely transfer from our previous encounter" he spoke before turning on his heels and walking away, whistling a perfect rendition of Gimn Rossiyskoy Federatsii.
Feliks wildly crashed in the compound and laid his eyes upon his betrothed. Toris was sprawled on the floor, covered in bruises all over his naked body. He stood motionless as Feliks approached him cautiously, his eyes transfixed on an imaginary scene. The Pole knelt beside him, cradling his broken body to his chest while tears sprung anew from his emerald eyes.
"Toris... what has he done to you? ... Toris ..." he trailed off, burying his face in the other's tangled hair.
Toris blinked slowly, coming to realization of his situation and let out an incomprehensible sound. He gagged and coughed in order to clear his throat, just enough to pronounce his most favourite word, "Feliks".
"Toris...? Are you ... alright?" asked Feliks tentatively.
"F-Fe ... Fel ..." he tried to speak, which caused him to cough up some blood.
"Shh ... don't say anything, I'm taking you home. We-" started Feliks, but was interrupted by Toris' fingers on his mouth.
"Aš … Aš tave … myliu" he said, with great difficulty. "Aš tave myliu" he spoke with a gentle smile. "Aš tave myliu" he repeated once more, as the light faded from his eyes.
"Toris?" asked the Pole with a quivering voice. "Toris, answer me! Toris! Toris! TORIS!!!!"
A few weeks later
Toris was sitting in his bed, comfortably propped up with pillows when Feliks walked in carrying a plate of various foods. He smiled gently at his caregiver, extending a bandaged hand onto his lap. The sun was warm on Toris' skin and played on his hair, creating fiery highlights. He couldn't have been happier.
"Toris! Like, I totally made you some soup 'cuz like, I read that it's good for sick people and, well, I figured you could use some. I also brought you some bread 'cuz like, it's awesome for you skin and apparently, it's got some properties that help eyesight, though you totally don't need it, but still, better safe than sorry!" babbled Feliks in his usual speech pattern, falling back into old habits.
The Lithuanian laughed heartily at his friend's speech. "Feliks, you didn't have to go through all that trouble. I'm doing a lot better, thanks to you".
"Like, you were dead just a few days ago ... well, not exactly dead, but close to it! I don't want you to die again" rationalized Feliks.
"How can I 'die again' if I haven't died in the first place?"
"Oh, never mind, you know what I mean!" replied the Pole, blushing with embarrassment. "By the way, you got a letter today! Here" he said before thrusting the small envelope into Toris' hands.
He picked it up and immediately recognized the lyrical handwriting of his brother Edward. Toris smiled at this, before placing it on his nightstand.
"Aren't you like, gonna read it?" asked Feliks with much curiosity.
"No, I know what he's written inside."
"What's that?"
"Most likely, he'll be telling me off for disappearing for so long, and not calling home ... and Raivis will have incorporated a small footnote saying how much Ed doesn't mean half of his rants."
"That's nice" replied Feliks.
"What is?" said Toris, picking up on the other man's sadness.
"Well, like, when you're all better and stuff, you're gonna go back home to your brothers, right? 'Cuz like, that's your place, isn't it? And they'll be so happy ... you won't be coming back here because you'll be too busy and-"
"Feliks!" interjected Toris "I ... I can't stay here but, don't say that I won't come back because, I will!"
"Yeah like, in another century or something..." trailed off the Pole as he hung his head low.
"No ... that's not true I-"
"It's ok, I understand."
Not knowing what to do to cheer Feliks up, Toris pushed aside the food with great care and wrapped his arms around his saviour, embracing him tightly. Feliks blushed wildly but, nonetheless, responded by mimicking Toris' moves.
"What I said back there - when we were in Russia - still stands. I love you. I love you more than anything else! Even my freedom isn't as loved as you are!" he spoke with great conviction. "Won't you finish what you were saying a few months ago, before Ivan cut off our communication?" he asked, barely above a whisper.
Feliks could tell that his words were from the heart and that he truly loved him like no other. Stroking the back of his head, his other arm holding the brunette with unexpected strength, he replied to his long time friend, lover and soul mate:
"I love you too" he whispered. "Please don't take a century to come back 'cuz like, that would totally suck."
Toris smiled into his shoulder and spoke honestly once more: "I'll try my best".
The End.
.~.~.~.~.
TRANSLATIONS
POLISH
"Cześć! Muscovy. Co u ciebie słychać?
[Hi! *Muscovy. How are you?]
"Pogadajmy!" short form of - "Porozmawiajmy!"
[Let's talk!]
"Wypraszam sobie!"
[I beg your pardon!] (sarcastic, angry tone)
RUSSIAN
Оставьте меня в покое!
[Leave me alone!]
*Gimn Rossiyskoy Federatsii
[Russian Federation Anthem]
LITHUANIAN
Lietuva
[Lithuania]
"Aš tave myliu"
[I love you]
*Muscovy: The Grand Duchy of Moscow (Russian: Великое Княжество Московское, Velikoye Knyazhestvo Moskovskoye) was a medieval Russian polity centered on Moscow between 1340 and 1547. [link] This term was used during the Polish-Lithuanian medieval wars against "Russia".
*Russian Anthem: I'm not sure which exact anthem was used during this time frame so, I used the current anthem. If anyone wishes to correct me, please do so, I will gladly change it.
*"Filthy language": Ivan's refference to the Polish language as being lower class is due to the many wars between the two countries. When Russia took control over Poland in the 19th century, they wanted the Polish people to forsake their language and only speak in Russian instead. However, the Poles never gave in and kept their language as their own.
Polish language was discriminated against, losing its official status; there was no education in the Polish language and publications in Polish were few.[3] There was nonetheless growth in national consciousness, and the Revolution in the Kingdom of Poland (1905–1907) resulted in the general improvement of the situation. [link]