Владение
Faded purple and yellow stains marred his wrist, ugly flowers blooming in a field of pure, innocent snow. Red rimmed those beautiful, cerulean eyes, a hurt and questioning pout molding his coral lips into an expression that drove Ivan into agony. The high collar of his shirt dipped forward slightly, revealing the ghosts of fingerprints dug into the graceful curve of his neck.
The Russian found himself scowling into his still steaming coffee. He had only bought it because Matvey, his precious Matvey, had been the one to serve it. He wanted to find the man that was hurting his Matvey and tear him to shreds. He was broken from his bloody reverie by the quiet voice beside his ear. "I-Is there anything else I can get for you?" The Canadian stammered at him, a bright, fake smile on his face.
"You can get out of that relationship you're in. You can get away from the man who's hurting you. You can get him to come here, where I can beat him for all the hurt he's cause you. You're mine. He shouldn't be able to touch you like that."
Instead, he only gave the young man a small, lopsided smile. "Da. Some water, please?" He couldn't bring himself to say it. He knew he couldn't change the Canadian's mind. After all, he had tried before…
"C-Coming right up." Another smile. Footsteps across the linoleum of the diner as Matvey walked away. And his face, crying to him, pleading to him not to worry. Imploring him not to hurt the East German bastard who took advantage of his innocence and ripped it to shreds.
"H-he loves me… I k-know he does…" Tears running down his face. His voice quavering, as if he doesn't know if what he's saying is even true. "H-He just got angry… I-It won't happen again…"
But it did. It happened over and over and over again. Spotted arms, bruised eyes, bandages and stitches. He had even broken his wrist. And still, that false smile. That vow. "He loves me."
"He doesn't love you, Matvey." The Russian thought, placing a twenty dollar bill on the table and getting up to leave. "He doesn't love you like I love you. He breaks you down, day after day, without preserving your beauty. You're mine. Not his. Mine." The thoughts pulsed through his head as he pulled the scarf over his nose, heading down the same roads he'd followed Matthew down many times before. He'd go to that apartment, and beat that piece of trash until he couldn't stand. He'd kill him for all that he had done, for all the bruises and all the tears he had inflicted upon his precious, delicate, Matthew.
He left the apartment hours later, shoving his bloodstained hands in his pockets. His violet eyes focused on the snow-stained streets of the city, watching as Matthew passed him. He knew the little blonde might cry and scream. But he had done it for him. He had tortured that East German son of a bitch, watched him bleed, broken his bones, all for the small blonde and those feathery bruises on his snowy skin.
"He won't hurt you anymore." The Russian stopped, looking back at the Canadian entering the apartment complex. "Ya lublu tyebya, moy Matvey…"
Language Notes:
Title : Vladyeneeye - Possession. Russian.
1. Matvey - Matthew. Russian.
2. Ya lublu tyebya, moy Matvey - I love you, my Matthew. Russian.
Author's notes:
I have no idea what the hell this is. It's a random drabblefic inspired by nothing than a strong mental image in my head.
I'm sorry. I do not /like/ the Prussia x Canada pairing. Prussia seems a little too... Rough for poor Matthew to put up with for long. And Russia? Well, he's not much better, now is he?
Russia feels slightly OOC for me. But, I must remind you, he does have a softer side. A childlike, innocent side. Albiet, it comes with a posessive personality, which I hopefully portrayed correctly.
Anyway, enough of these mad writer's ramblings.
Ignore this drabble.
