Quick oneshot for a new crack pairing I've seen drawn on deviantart, had to write it, it's an interesting match up. I might make this a series of oneshots later, after 'winged prison' is done. Enjoy... also, I do believe those cool red shoes are boots, but only because I am weird like that C;
The Luck of the Swedish.
I could feel my face getting redder and redder, from anger or embarrassment? I don't know, but it was showing. Back against the wall, sitting on the floor of the hotel hall just outside my room door. I was resisting the urge to start banging my head against the closest hard surface I could find.
I was tired. Just back from my round of fight's, of which I won. A nasty bruise forming on my forehead and my clothes were dirty and ripped, this was the last thing I wanted happening.
Yes me, the great rebel captain Lars Alexandersson, dropped his room card. Been through hell and back, considered one of the strongest, smartest people here, and I drop my freaking room card!
To make things even better, it was about one a.m at night, everyone was either drinking up their victory or sleeping. reception closed. I had no clue where I dropped it. My phone was out of battery, barely made my way to my door in the first place and now I had no energy left, not even enough to check whatever is in my shoe.
Better yet, once everyone wakes up and my 'oh-so-funny' neighbor see's me here, I'll be a laughing stock!
Not wanting that, I went to go find a couch or something soft to sleep on. Fully knowing that I'd probably get woken up and told off for doing so. I just needed some goddamn sleep. I continued to limp, until I bumped into something solid. Looking up, my eyes met cold, hard ones. It was one of the last people I wanted, or expected, to bump into.
His name, now what was his name. Dragunov I think, like the gun. A cold hearted military man from Russia. A brutal killer. He looked as if he wanted to sleep, badly. Well, how nice, me bumping into an overtired man with a license to kill.
"I apologize, didn't see you there." Nothing.
"Are you okay?" Again, nothing. His near-white eyes darting over me.
"I'll just be leaving now." I began to leave, as fast as I could, which right now, wasn't that fast. Too bad he grabbed my shoulder before I could gain some distance. He dragged me with him, most likely towards his own room.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Greeted with the sound of cicadas once again.
"Will you just answer me?" What was I expecting here? Coming to a stop in front of what I guessed was his room, He dragged me in and made me sit on his bed. Walking off, I sat there patiently, wondering.
What was this man going to do? Come back with some sharp object and introduce it to my face? There was no way I could run, hell, I could barely walk.
After waiting for what felt like a few minutes, he came back. Carrying a first aid kit. Walking over, he roughly grabbed my badly injured arm and began to bandage it up.
"What are you-ch!" He was applying some anesthetic. This confused me to no end, a guy I don't even know, thought to be a mad man, was dressing all my injuries. Watching him, his expression never changed, a permanent scowl fixed to his face. Once he was done, he got up.
"T-thank you." I moved to get up. His hands, roughly, pushed me back onto the bed, a bit too hard. Holding me down, his cold eyes piercing mine, I couldn't help but felt a warm, familiar feeling in my face. I guess this feeling showed, because after that he was off me. Pointing to the bed, he walked over to the rooms linen closet, grabbed a few sheets, then went over to the couch and lay down. He was still after that. Almost as if he were already asleep.
"You want me to-"
"Shh!" Wow, I think I achieved something great there, getting a noise out of the mute guy. Taking a very, weird, hint, I decided to go to sleep too.
Sunlight shined through unclosed curtains. I could already hear people getting up, yelling, crashing, the works.
Finally deciding to try get up, the pain shot through me like cold water. Lucky today was a day off, though I don't know why fighting tournaments have days off, it was a lucky thing for me. Rolling over, I saw a note, looked as if it were written in English. Everything from last night flashed back in my mind, jolting up, I found I was the only one in the room.
Something familiar was lying where I found the note, the cause of this mess, the damn keycard.
Instead of panicking, maybe next time you should try checking your other pieces of clothing, It must've fallen through the gigantic hole in your pocket and into your boot. I am very surprised you did not notice the extra weight.
Dragunov.
p.s. Maybe next time we meet, you'll give me your name that time.
p.p.s You snore a small bit, not badly, but you should get that out.
That familiar feeling crept up my face again, a mixture of embarrassment and nerves. And here I thought it was a rock, keycard lost in some eternal abyss or something, and it was on me the whole time. Deciding then and there, I will NOT be here when he gets back, he'll think I'm an idiot. Grabbing the card and rushing out the door, I ran as fast as I could to my room, then quietly closed the door behind me.
As I went to sit down, a knock sounded at the door. Walking all the way back, the other side revealed an oh-so-plain-faced Dragunov, nothing new there. He had in his hands my shirt, which I only just noticed I didn't have on.
"Er, thankyou." He gave a slight nod in response.
"What you did last night, really, it was nice of you." Tracing my face with his eyes, once again. Kind of creepy.
"Oh, er, my name is Lars Alexandersson. You asked right?" Nod, a very stiff, notably uncomfortable one.
"I won't take up anymore of your time okay?" He nodded once more and turned away.
Closing the door, I heard a noise, something unfamiliar, that made me freeze in place. A clear yet accented voice.
"Alexandersson, huh? I like it."
And cut, I actually wrote a fluffy DraguLars fanfic, I might have just accomplished something or dug my own grave, your choice, please Review :D
I MADE DRAGUNOV TALK, I OUTTA BE SHOT :3 nyoro~n...I hope the kitten's and cute things are safe, I mean, Dragunov talking can't really do that, can it?