The streets of Minsk were dark in the cold winter nights, the people hiding in the warm sanctuary of their homes. The snowflakes fell and stuck to the sidewalks, the crisp new layers crunchy under foot. Belarus' long blonde locks trailed behind her as she strode down the sidewalks, her heavy black coat warming her arms and the white scarf wrapping around her neck. Her icy orbs were focused on the world in front of her, keeping her on the right track.
Time to get home.
Time to do paper work.
Time to warm up by the pechka.
And then time to lose herself in the memories as she slept. The memories of her past, and her memories of pain, the rejection that swelled inside her soul.
She shoved her pale hands inside the pockets of her coat, and let out a deep sigh. She was always like this: depressing, alone. She couldn't help it, it was merely who she was. She was still thinking about how much time it would take for her to get home, twenty minutes more? Her eyes were drawn to a man across the street. She watched as he crossed the street, unable to identify his features. She quickened her pace. He moved closer to her. She kept her eyes low, glancing up every few moments.
Is that big brother...? Has he come to take me back? I-I just got used to being alone. Alone! Her mind swarmed, the image of Ivan forcing her back with him flahsing behind her eyes.
"Natalia!" She dropped the knife, her eyes wide, shaking from fear, and then realization.
"G-Gilbert..." She breathed the name lightly, staring up at him, her mind registering who it was that had grabbed her. She quickly tore her writs from his hands, hanging her head down and wearing her blank eyes, as she always did. Her heart was skipping beats, she could hear it pulsating like drums in her ears. She, personally, never really spoke to him. He hated Ivan, and was always with Germany and Italy. Not to mention, the only person who wasn't terrified of her seemed to be Sweden. (And Denmark, but he didn't know what fear was.) The fact he had touched her, spoken to her, called her by her name... It was exhilirating.
"Sorry, Gilbert.' She said quietly, keeping her voice under control as best she could.
"No... I'm sorry. But seriously, why're you walking arund by yourself? Let the awesome me escort you!" He said the last pert with gusto, grinning his conceited grin. Belarus raised her eyes a little, before nodding her head slightly in agreement. He lay his arms to rest behind his head, walking down the empty snowing streets. He chattered to her, not needing any sort of reply or response, aside from the occasional grunt or head nod. She was content walking with him on her streets, a smile gracing her pale face, hidden by the scarf. She looked over at him, and saw the deep-set frown on his own. He was looking in his pockets, and her eyes flashed with realization. He'd been pick pocketed on her own streets. She suddenly felt a pit in the bottom of her stomach, her heart sinking. "I... I'm so sorry..." She managed to squeak out, her eyebrows knitting together in her anger. "Nah, it's cool. They just wanted a soubenier from the me! Because I'm just so awesome! Kesesesese!"
Natalia still coudn't believe that Gilbert had been a victim of such a felony. She was sure that had she seen whoever did it, she'd stab them thoroughly. As they reached her home, she opened the door, flicking the lights on. Gilbert stepped in, peeling off the dripping coat, laying it on the back of the couch. She had already went in to the kitchen, putting water on to boil. She came back in, and sat down in the chair beside the couch, fumbling with her nails.
"So, Nat. You should show me around! I bet your house is awesome." She gave a quick nod, standing up. she was terrified to actually converse with him; what if she said something that completely offended him? How would she deal with that? He'd reject her, as a friend, worse than how Ivan had rejected her...
"This is the bathroom..." She said, opening the door to reveal a large full sized bathroom, a standing tub, and a alrge mirror, the walls a deep blue and grey tile, the floor a sandy color. Gilbert's eyes widened, wondering why she had such a glamourous taste in home decor.
"The kitchen..." Another masterpiece: white back splash with metalic decor, dark wooden cupboards, granite counter tops.
"And the dining room..." She was obviously a fan of more modern looks mixed with old style victorian, as the room hand a grand chandeliere and white modern chairs, a glass table, with china dishes to eat off of. As they made their way back into the living room, Natalia sat awkwardly, waiting him to either leave or start a conversation.
"So! Natty," Natty?
"You still in love with that unawesome bastard Russia?!" No, no, I am not. No...
"Awesome. You love anyone, then?" Da, I do. But that is alright. He will be another one like my brother.
"Unawesome! But what makes you say that?" He's too busy with his brother to notice me.
"Whoever the Hell that is should get punched! It's so unawesome to not notice when a girl really likes ya'."
She nodded her head in agreement. Too bad, she thought, that you don't realize it's you. Too bad that you don't understand what you've done to me tonight. Too bad I could never influence you like that...
She felt the heat the beside her, a shiver crawling up her curved back. She looked over, and darted her eyes away when they had wandered onto Gilbert's face, only inches form her own, now that he'd moved to sit next her.
"Thank you for bringing me home, Gilbert... I'm sure you should be getting back to Ludwig, now." She stammered, rubbing her finger around the rim of her tea cup as she spoke, refusing to give herself away. She wasn't going to be weak any longer. She wasn't going to suffer with him the same way she had with her brother. But the warm hands that had cupper her face were tranquilizing, she couldn't tear herself away. Her eyes fluttered between his red jems, and his pearly white lips, the heat of his breath on her own, the semll of his skin intoxicating her head.
Her chest was heaving, it felt heavy, like a cinderblock had been sat on top of it, yet her body felt light, as though she'd been broken from the chains that kept her to the Earth. The hot thumbs that trailed down her jawline, then back up it, and the warmth seemed to bring a chill whenever it touched her naturally dreezing skin.
Gilbert's head shot to the side, and he jumped away from her, realizing what he'd done.
"I ought to go. Someone;s been knocking on the door for a few minutes now, anyways." He grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the chair, and motioned for her to answer the door. She looked out the window, flustered by the contact thw two had made. There was no misunderstanding what he had been thinking about. There was no mistaking the longing she had seen in him for her just projecting her own emotions on to him. This was all intentional... That moment had been intentional. She lead him to the back of the house, opening the back door.
"Who was it?" He asked, putting his hands into his pockets.
"Big brother." She whispered, hardly able to bring herself above what had happened only miutes ago. As she watched him disappear into the raining snow, a sad smile spread across her lips.
"Natalia? Why are you standing with the door open? You will catch cold." Ivan put his hand on her shoulder, the faint smell of alcohol on his breath. She turned around, closing the door slowly. He opened his arms, beckoning her to collapse into them, often as she did whenever he drank too much.