A/N: I was reading Belarus' wiki article and was surprised by all the details of her personality that are overlooked by fanfic writers! So I started writing something about Belarus and...well, it still ended up with her being all creepy towards Russia, but I tried to sneak in some more characterization. Hope you like!
"We only consult the ear because the heart is wanting."-Blaise Pascal, on counsel
Natasha sat there gloomily, not looking up at Kim-ly Truong, watching the steam slowly waft its way up out of her cup of coffee.
"I love him." She finally replied, coldly and haughtily.
"Love, love, love." Kim-ly sighed and leaned her elbows on the table. "People always are talking about love. But what does this word even mean anymore? Bonnefoille mentioned it often. He thought it fine to take my land without my permission, send me to work on them for his own purposes, and then talk of 'love' when he took me to bed." She recounted the tale with veiled disgust. "What is 'love?' If it is simply the desire to possess, as I have experienced multiple times, then I say we are better without it."
"If I wanted to get a record of your failed relationships, I could have looked you up on Wikipedia already."
The golden-brown eyes across from hers flickered angrily at the comment, and she saw Kim-ly suddenly grip the edge of the table tighter, but restrained herself and tried to remain calm.
"I don't mean to be intrusive," she said slowly,"and I do beg your pardon, but maybe it is true that you are focusing too much on this man, your brother. If you are unhappy now, being as blessed and privileged as you are, then will you really be happy even if you do manage to conquer and bend his will?"
"How do you know I won't be?" The coffee was now lukewarm. Natasha stirred it absentmindedly, closely observing the swirls and bubbles that arose from the uneven blend. She wondered if it was possible for one to divine fates from the clouds formed in coffee, just like how one could tell fortunes from tea leaves.
Kim-ly tried to smile, but her eyes were still serious. "I've known your brother," she said. "And I know that you are both some of the most stubborn people on the planet. Stalemates are never–"
"There isn't any stalemate."
"Oh, for–" Kim-ly rolled her eyes and pushed her bangs away from her face in frustration."I'm just trying to tell you that you shouldn't–you can't–"
"I shouldn't what? Spit it out."
Kim-ly took a deep breath. "You shouldn't waste your life chasing after a man." She said slowly. "It's not worth it. Doesn't independence mean anything to you?"
"Yes, it does." Natasha abruptly got up from her chair. "And that means that I think I'm grown-up enough to make my own decisions about my life. Just because I love my brother doesn't mean that I can't be my own person, in case you haven't noticed."
Kim-ly stared sulkily into the stained bottom of her empty cup. "You were the one who wanted to talk about your 'problems.' I was just trying to be helpful."
"Yeah, and I sure appreciate it very much. But if you'll excuse me, I think I'd better be on my way." She turned around in a huff and walked briskly away from the café. She was sorry about the way she'd snapped at her and been insensitive, but didn't feel like turning around to apologizing.
She knew she wasn't being fair. Kim-ly was a good person, and Natasha knew that she trust her to keep the conversation to herself and not run off to gossip or spread nasty rumors throughout the world. Not that there wasn't anything new and juicy to know, for anyone who actually bothered to read the news and between the lines.
"Isn't this how everyone expects me to act, anyway? Russia's bitchy little sister. She'll get over it." Natasha leaned next to the window on the plane, clutching a colorful magazine, still unsure of exactly where her destination was. Outside the window she could see nothing but the white of the clouds below, and she dozed off, finally leaving Kim-Ly, the conversation, and the disgusting lukewarm coffee behind.