Raining was an understatement.

Toris had never seen such a downpour before—it was like the heavens above had opened up and started to hurl everything that they had at the world below. The rain beat down heavily on his roof and it was nearly impossible to see out the windows. Wind howled and screeched as it tore through the trees outside. Thunder cracked and rumbled, lightening lit up the sky in blinding flashes. All the while, Toris sat on his couch, drumming his fingers lightly against his thighs, slightly nervous. However, it wasn't the storm that made him nervous—the man could handle storms, weather was hardly something to be frightened over—rather, the cause of his unease was the woman was sitting dangerously close to him.

Natalia Arlovskaya sat with her legs crossed on the floor, drying her wet hair and face with a towel. She had appeared on Toris's front porch, completely drenched, make up streaming down her face and demanded a place to stay until the rain let up and a dry change of clothes.

So there she sat, wearing Toris's clothes, dead silent. She carefully pulled the wheat colored strands of her hair through the towel and acted as though Toris wasn't even there. He didn't really mind, not really, the visit was unexpected anyway and he was just pleased to be able to do something for her. The silence was started to become unsettling though, and he desperately wished the girl would just talk to him, just once.

"Nat-"

She cut him off with a snap that was sharper than any knife she owned. "Belarus." She corrected, pushing a few strands of her light blonde hair away from her face so she could glare at him through the corner of her eye. Toris kicked himself inwardly, he knew she didn't like for anyone but her brother to call her Natalia.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Belarus." Silence followed his words. She continued to look at him with that same icy stare, those impossibly blue eyes that seemed to cut a jagged path right to his very heart and soul. Softly, Toris cleared his throat then continued, "I was just wondering… what… what you were doing out there in the rain? At this time of night?"

More silence followed. Just as Toris thought he wasn't going to get an answer out of the Belarusian, she turned her head away from him and sighed heavily. Toris didn't need to question her any further. Ivan had rejected her again.

"None of your business," was the answer that she supplied him.

Toris chewed on his lip thoughtfully and Natalia went back to drying her hair, leaving the two in silence once again.

Toris cast his gaze out the window, where the rain continued to pound furiously against the glass; Natalia continued to dry her hair, and once again there was silence.

Taking a corner of the towel in her small hands; she began to wipe the smeared back makeup away from underneath her eyes. The thunder cracked loudly outside and a bolt of lightning lit up the room for a moment; Toris jumped a little and Natalia paused from where she was scrubbing her face to peer out the window.

Toris turned to Natalia again, his mouth open to say something, but he paused.

Natalia's face was completely clear of all makeup. And there was something about her that was… different without the powders and other things piled neatly on her face to sculpt her appearance into something that she thought was more appealing. Her cheeks were softer, and her face slightly rounder. Her skin wasn't as smooth as it was with the foundation; there were little nicks and scars that could barely be seen underneath the low light of Toris's living room. Across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks she was dusted with pale freckles, so small and light that they were barely there. Her eyelashes were blonde and thin, but looked softer than anything else in this world, and her eyes were a clear blue, their color not dulled by pitch black mascara and eyeliner.

But without the makeup, Toris could also tell that she was tired. Purplish dark circles rimmed underneath her eyes. Her dusky pink lips were drawn downwards in a tired frown, her complexion just a little too pale, not even pink in her cheeks.

But she was beautiful to Toris.

Natalia lifted one eyebrow and scowled at the brunette nation.

"Are you just going to gape open-mouthed at me like a fish all night long?" She huffed.

Toris shut his mouth almost immediately and felt his face flush.

"A-ah, no."

She huffed again and turned her head. "I know how I look right now, but I can't help it and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't stare at me like I was the most hideous—"

"I think you're beautiful."

Natalia stopped talking and whipped her head back around. Her jaw quivered and her mouth worked silently, struggling for something to say. Anything.

Natalia stood up quickly, stumbling backwards a bit. The sudden action startled Toris off of the couch and he stood up too, reaching forward to catch her in case she fell.

"Don't come near me!" She shrieked, lifting her hands as if to defend herself. Toris jumped backwards as if stung, and held his arms up, palms out, to show he had no intention of touching her.

"Natal-"

"Belarus! I've told you my name is Belarus!"

"Belarus, Belarus. I'm sorry." Toris tried his best to remain calm, as best as he could under the circumstances, at least. His heart raced wildly. His palms were starting to sweat. He took another step back. He wasn't sure what he had done, but when Natalia was angry, it was best to get as far away as possible. He learned this the hard way—many different times.

She inhaled sharply, then let it out slowly through her nose, her eyes shut tightly.

"I'm going to bed." Her voice was a snarl. It hurt Toris in ways he couldn't explain.
"D-do you want me to sh-show you the guest bedroom…?" He cursed himself for having that damnable stutter. It had a habit of showing up during the worst of times, no matter how often Toris would practice speaking to get rid of it.

"Deep breaths." He told himself "Speak slower. Calmer. Don't stutter."

"I can find it myself." She turned sharply and fled down the hallway. Toris watched her retreating back until she turned again and locked herself away into the first bedroom she found. It wasn't the guest bedroom—it was his room, actually, but he wasn't about to go in there and tell her otherwise. Let her calm down, he figured. Everything would be alright in the morning.

He sat back down on the couch with a defeated sigh, his head dropping into his hands.

"She'll never understand."