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Melt My Ice

What the hell am I doing… out here in the frigid snow…?

A man garbed in cerulean shuffled through the infinite, barren snow that stretched as far as he could see in front of him. Shadows of turmoil and turbulence adorned his dark violet eyes; his dignity had long since abandoned him. His usually-styled auburn hair hung limply in front of his face, though his ahoge stuck skyward as always. Silver-framed glasses bounced against the bridge of his nose, threatening to fall. Flurries of snow nipped his exposed skin, tingling his fingertips and face. His vision blurred as he trudged through the frozen wasteland, his mind searching its fathomless depths to find the reason why the hell he decided to leave his home and where the hell he thought he was going.

He stumbled over his feet, only partially aware that he had crashed against the ground, glasses flying off of his face. He rolled over to lie on his back, gazing up at the opaque quartz sky overhead as snowflakes spiraled in the wind. His eyes closed as the last shard of hope that his heart clutched onto turned to dust, as fleeting and temporary as the glacial snow that blanketed the ground. The awareness of his surroundings faded into white noise as his consciousness slipped, like water through his fingers.

Unknown footsteps crunched against the snow, staccato rhythm accompanying an allegro tempo. Orchid eyes fluttered open weakly, glimpsing a silvery-haired man towering over his shameful, collapsed frame. "Austria?" He heard his name being called from somewhere off in the distance; he wanted to shout out that he had heard them, but all knowledge of spoken language escaped him as a shroud of the purest black engulfed him.

"I hate you," she snarled vehemently as she left the room, her hands balled into fists, leaving him sitting at his piano. His trembling fingers rest gently on the ivory keys, as if he had just sat down to play. His hands lift to his face, obscuring his periphery as temperatureless, textureless liquid contacted his palms.

The scene melted away: he dashed away from his picturesque home, passing by the garden that he had once tended with his own hands, her hateful words echoing deep in the chasm of his mind. What had he done, besides give her the love that she needed most at the lowest point in her life? She had decided to come crawling to him, asking for his hand in order to save herself.

The ground underfoot transformed from the soft, spring-green grass that covered his yard to unyielding, icy snow. Salt and pepper clouds shrouded the infinitesimal azure expanse above as snowflakes waltzed in the arctic air. He pictured a tawny-haired girl with breathtaking emerald eyes standing close to him, her arms curled around him, her touch softer than the downy wings of baby birds, a cheerful smile spread across her face as her expression contorted from bliss to fury; gentle hands that once caressed his cheek shove his chest as she paces away from him, disappearing from sight. Achromatic fog blinds him, seizing his life and stealing away all of the time that he had spent with his girl, its steely grip curling around his neck and crushing his windpipe….

"No!" Austria shouted, bolting straight up in bed.

His heart threatened to break free of his chest, pounding against his sternum as cold sweat shimmered on his face. He smoothed his hair back as a sigh of relief escaped him: Mariazell flattened as his fingers grazed the ahoge but popped back up after a few seconds. He glanced around the room, pinpointing his pair of folded glasses lying against the nightstand to his right. He snatched them up, unfolding them and sliding them into their rightful place on the bridge of his nose. His gaze trailed down his body: he had kicked the covers off of the bed in his fitful sleep. He noticed that only his royal blue overcoat had been removed, which hung on the back of the room's door.

Three swift, substantial raps emitted from the door, the pizzicato sound resonating around the room. "Yes?" Austria called, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as the door opened.

"Privet, Austria!" a vaguely familiar, carefree voice greeted him as Russia entered the guest room, striding over to a cushiony chair off to the left and taking a seat. He dressed in his usual sandy-colored overcoat, green pants, and heavy boots, his beloved, muted-rose scarf draped around his neck. "How do you feel?"

"I am all right, I suppose," Austria replied, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing, pacing over to his oceanic-hued coat, unhooking it and slipping it on. "I'm confused, though. How did I get here?"

A sunny smile broke across Russia's face as he explained, "I think you walked here. I found you a few miles away from my house, lying on your back in the snow. You chose one of the coldest months to decide to come visit, da.~" Russia's lighthearted tone somehow soothed Austria, calming the panic that began to expand in his chest as he realized that all of the events in the dream he had the previous night had actually happened.

"Ah… I'm sorry to trouble you like this, Russia," Austria apologized, his wisteria-hued eyes uncharacteristically tight, "I don't even consciously remember deciding to come to your country. Come to think of it, I don't remember much of these past two days, except…" he whipped his head left and right, dispelling those self-destructive thoughts.

Russia's head cocked slightly to the right as a brow quirked. "It sounds like you've been through a lot, Austria. Feel free to stay here as long as you need, okay? I promise it'll be fun! I haven't had guests in a long time, da."

Chills ascended Austria's spine as Russia uttered the word 'fun.' "Thank you, Russia. Really. Do you think I could use your phone, please? I need to place a call…."

Russia hopped to his feet as he nodded. "Yup. Follow me!"

He wound out of the room with Austria on his heels, bounding down the stairs and turning a few corners before stopping in the foyer. He pointed to an obsidian corded phone sitting stationary on a glass-top table beside a vase full of sunflowers before patting Austria on the head and scurrying off into the depths of the house.

Austria's heart fluttered erratically, losing all sense of rhythm as he picked up the phone, spinning out the seven numbers he kept close to his heart on the rotary. Her sweet voice wafted through the phone as she answered cheerily, "Szia! This is Mr. Austria's house. I'm sorry, he has removed himself—"

"I am aware that he has removed himself, Hungary," Austria interrupted, sounding much harsher than he intended because of his flat tone. "This is Austria."

The unique timbre of her voice disappeared as she mumbled, "Oh. I'm sorry, I have chores to attend to. I hope you return soon." A sharp click! resonated from the other end of the line as she promptly hung up.

Austria was frozen to the spot. Tepid tears stung his lilac eyes as an incessant beep rung in his ear, jolting him back to life. He returned the phone to its cradle as he lifted his glasses for a moment, wiping his eyes. The last thing she said to me… she didn't mean that. Her tone was too controlled for her to mean it. She wants nothing to do with me. He all but jumped out of his skin as someone nudged his arm, his eyes wide as he turned to face whoever had touched him.

Russia stood behind him, hands clutched around two steaming ceramic mugs. He held one out for Austria, trying to figure out why he wore such a pained expression. "I thought you could use some cocoa," Russia mused as Austria took one of the cups. "You look so sad, Austria."

"I'm fine, Russia," Austria dismissed, breaking eye contact and glancing down into the tenebrous liquid. "Thank you for the cocoa."

"No problem, but I have to warn you that it has a kick," Russia chuckled, taking a gulp of his own hot chocolate. "Could you come with me for a little while? I think you could use some fresh air, da."

"Of course. It's not like I'm busy," Austria muttered, his eyes returning to Russia's face. "Where are we going?"

"Outside," Russia stated matter-of-factly, a warm smile spreading across his face.

He opened a hall closet, yanking one of his huge overcoats off its hanger and offering it to Austria. "It's always cold outside here, especially in winter," Russia remarked, "and I don't think your blue coat will keep you warm enough."

"Thank you," Austria replied numbly, placing his cocoa on the glass-top table while he took the coat, sliding it on and buttoning it. He picked up his cup once again as he followed Russia out through the front door, closing it on his way out.

Austria sipped his cocoa, the balmy warmth from the drink spreading throughout his body as a foreign ingredient left his tongue tingling. Russia had finished his cocoa by now, unzipping his coat for a few seconds to drop the ceramic cup into an oversized pocket on the inside before re-zipping it. Eternal blue had returned to the sky, banishing any semblance of a cloud from its perfect canvas. The snow underfoot shimmered beautifully in the morning sunlight as they strode, the ground sloping upward gently with the creation of a hill. Austria downed his drink, shivering slightly from the last sip: something bitter stung his taste buds unexpectedly. "What exactly did you put in this hot chocolate, Russia?"

"I put the same thing in it that you put in your cocoa, except of course I added a shot of vodka," Russia chortled, a huge grin crossing his face. "The warmth from the alcohol helps when it's cold like today."

Austria nodded, the shadow of a wavering smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It's a good idea, really. I'll have to do that in winter at my house… if I ever go back, that is."

A brow quirked in reflexive response as Russia glanced at Austria from the corner of his periphery. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" Austria began, clearing his throat and checking his composure, "I did something terrible to Hungary, though I can't exactly remember what I did… she told me she hated me, and I'm guessing from that point I left my home and walked as far as I could before passing out."

Russia seemed to step closer to Austria as they approached the crest of the tiny hill. "Oh, I see. If it is any consolation, you can stay with me for as long as you like. I enjoy the company, da."

"Honestly, I may have to accept that offer for a while," Austria muttered, his tone descending a few octaves as colorless despair crashed over him.

An arm jutted out in front of Austria suddenly, stopping him in his tracks. "Watch your step, it's icy," Russia advised, pointing down.

Mauve eyes followed Russia's gesture, finding a thick sheet of ice just inches away from his boots. He followed the ice as his eyes bulged in awe: a huge frozen lake extended in front of them, cloaked with a new layer of snow. Russia stepped onto the ice defiantly, pivoting to face Austria and extending his hand. "The ice won't break, will it?" Austria asked nervously, appraising the glacial surface.

"Nope! I do this all the time in the winter," Russia beamed at him.

"A-Alright," Austria nodded, taking Russia's hand as he stepped out onto the ice.

His feet felt as if they had acquired a mind of their own: they threatened to slip out from underneath him as he tried not to panic. His free hand gripped Russia's arm tightly as the snowy country glided over the slippery surface with ease, towing Austria into the middle of the lake. Russia pulled Austria close to him as he slid to a stop and in one fluid motion looped an arm around the brunette's waist, gazing into his now-flushed face that had nothing to do with the boreal weather. Austria trembled slightly as Russia chuckled. "Are you afraid to be so close to me, Austria?" He asked airily, lavender eyes meeting Austria's deep violet.

"What makes you think that I would be afraid?" Austria answered vaguely as his fingers uncoiled from Russia's forearm, his other hand still within the alabaster country's grasp.

"I can feel you shaking, da," Russia murmured delightfully, a careful smile upturning his lips.

"Did you ever think that it was because of the temperature? It hardly ever gets this cold in my country," Austria retorted as his free arm circled around Russia, closing the miniscule gap between the two.

Austria's head came to rest on Russia's shoulder as they stood in the center of the lake, no sound but the whispering wind around them. He sighed comfortably, his voice clear but low as he spoke after a while, "Thank you, Russia… for your hospitality, and for your comfort. It has been a long time since someone held me like this… too long, I think."

"You don't need to thank me, Austria," Russia replied pleasantly, his arms tightening securely around him. "I will be here for you whenever you need me, da? Besides, I'm the one who should be thanking you for letting me get so close to you. You're usually a very distant country."

Austria nodded slowly. "I would put up a wall at the World Conference between myself and everyone else, afraid that they would betray me if I let them in. I'm… happy, actually, that you hopped that stupid barrier… it was rather silly of me to separate myself from everyone, now that I think about it. I'd much rather be close to others and risk getting hurt than encase myself in a block of ice, devoid of human contact… it's worth it simply for the warmth that wards off the winter frost…."

Russia's lips brushed against Austria's cheek, as soft and sunny as daylight-drenched sunflower petals. Austria's heart fluttered as his cheeks reddened automatically; he lifted his head off of Russia's shoulder, a brow rising in question as he stared into abyssal amethyst pools. "Did you… just…?"

A sheepish smile upturned Russia's lips as he nodded. A hand flitted up to Austria's face, tilting his head upward slightly as Russia leaned in, pecking the tip of his nose before claiming his lips. Austria's eyes bulged in surprise as he watched Russia's close; his heart beat double time in his chest as his eyes slowly shut. He pressed against Russia's lips, deepening the kiss as the index finger on his right hand drew a heart against Russia's back. Russia's hand caressed his cheek as the marble country pulled away, their eyes opening simultaneously. "Austria," Russia mused, compassion lingering in his jubilant tone, "you deserve to be happy."

The sincere affection in Russia's words destroyed the dam that held back tears within Austria. He buried his face in Russia's chest as muffled sobs shook his frame. Russia rubbed his back soothingly, until all of Austria's tears had run dry. The russet-haired country raised his head after a few long minutes. "Ready to go home?" Russia asked gently, his lips grazing against Austria's forehead.

Austria merely nodded as Russia uncurled one arm from around the brunette's midsection, bending down and wrapping it around Austria's knees, hoisting him into his arms bridal-style. "It's quicker across the ice this way, da? No need to worry about falling," Russia commented amiably.

He didn't bother placing Austria back on his feet once they had returned to solid ground: he held the fragile country close as he paced swiftly back to his home. Austria forfeited himself over to Russia's will, his arms twining around the arctic country's neck as a true smile spread across his face. For the first time in what felt like decades, a comfortable, summery sensation diffused throughout his body, melting the permafrost that had enveloped his heart for far too long.

Fin.

Translations (blame Google if they're inaccurate):
Szia = Hello (Hungarian)