He couldn't do it anymore. He just couldn't, no matter how hard he tried. His amethyst violet eye's darkened with emotion, clouded by memory's of happier times with his beloved товарищ. Little Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia... They'd all left him, just like they knew they would. He'd tried to teach them in many ways. With his pipe, his fists, his mouth, with threats and with promises, but still they'd deserted him after they'd been together for so long.
The Molotov-Ribbontie pact had brought them together, but no amounts of pacts could keep them together through the snow and the long, cold hours of hunger. Eventually they'd grown tired of him and his unconditional love. All he wanted was to love his beloved, beautiful Baltic states.
He turned to the side, his eyes filling up with tears as the flag's on the walls blurred before his eyes.
"мне всё остопиздело..." Ivan sighed, taking several sharp steps towards the flags, quickly pulling them all down and crushing them to his chest in a death grip. It was no replacement for his Baltics [because they WERE his, no matter how many times they gained independance, they would always be his.]
He blinked and his tears fell, overflowing like an orgasm of depression in his shining eyes. He rubbed his eyes to make the tears stop, but he only made in making them fall harder and faster. He raised the flags to his face, touching them, smelling them, imagining the countries they had once belonged to in his arms. His tears streamed down his cheeks, clinging to them and to the flags. Each tear colored the dull, dead and dominating red colors of the flags even darker until they matched the shimmering, staining red of blood. The blood he'd spilled to keep them his.
His house was so much bleaker, so much larger and emptier with the knowledge that there was nobody but himself here. Well, except from General Winter, who just whistled through the halls and chilled him to the bone. The only warmth he got was from his beloved водка. The водка was always there for him, any time of the day or night. He loved the burn as the clear liquid licked his insides, starting a fire in his belly that made his nerves tingle and then took the edge off of the pain he felt, dulling it down until it didn't bother him so much.
"A/N i hope that i got ivan's character just right! I love him so much! I just want to huggle him until the pain goes away, he's such a tortured soul TT_TT
PLZ LEAVE REVEWS! I'll put up a fic with smexy time next if you do. HATERS DONT HATE, FLAMING IS FOR FAGS.
btw i have no problem with fags b/coz a lot of my friends are gay. GAY4TEHWINZKTHXBAI!
btw x2 i learned the russian in this fic from a REAL soviet friend so i know it's rite."