Vodka
The one night I got to leave early. God. If I'd just gotten in damned late as usual none of this ever would have happened.
… Probably.
I twisted the doorknob and let myself in. I didn't bother to be quiet_ Russia probably wasn't asleep yet.
'Russia?' I called, heading for the loungeroom.
I didn't hear anything, so when I looked in, I was surprised to find him slumped down on the couch, swirling his finger through a glass of clear liquid.
'You okay?' I asked. He flinched and looked up at me. For a second I thought he'd been crying_ his eyes were bloodshot and red.
Sitting down next to him, I took the glass and took a sip. I grimaced. Vodka. How Russia could drink this stuff_ and God forbid a lot of it_ was completely beyond me.
Setting it aside, I took his hand and stood up. 'Come on, Russia. Let's get you to bed.'
He actually seemed to register for the first time that I was there, and blinked, looking up at me.
'America?'
'Yep, that's me. Come on, I'm sending you to bed. I said that already.' Okay, so maybe I could have been a little more patient.
He stood up and automatically I dropped his hand, stepping away. Suddenly I was nervous, very aware of just how… big he really was.
He reached out and pushed my hair out of my face. 'But you only just came back,' he said, his eyes darkening.
'Well, yeah, but_'
'Nyet, don't talk to me. I'm listening.'
I was about to ask what he was listening to when he leaned down and pressed his ear against my chest.
I flushed, even though I didn't know why.
Maybe it was because I knew how intimate listening to someone else's heartbeat was.
I shivered as he sighed, in a way that seemed almost… longing.
'There are some times,' Russia murmured, 'when I'm listening to that beating in your chest, and I feel almost like ripping it out just to see if it would stop making that noise.'
It took me a moment to process what he'd said, and then I gasped and pushed him away from me.
He laughed. 'I said almost, da? That doesn't mean I will.'
Suddenly I was slammed against the wall, and he was holding me against it, his palms pressed against my shoulders.
'Although,' he whispered, 'it would be nice to see the light leave your eyes.'
I tried to throw him off me, struggling, but he only pushed harder.
'It drives me insane,' he hissed. 'The constant thudding, all around me, every day. From everyone's chest but my own.'
Moving his hands, he slid them into my shirt and ran his cold fingers down my bare skin.
The emotions this crashed down on me were almost unbearable. He seemed to know this, and brought his lips close to my throat, brushing his teeth against the skin.
I pushed him, hard, in the chest, and he finally stumbled backwards.
'Russia! Enough!'
His eyes dropped to the floor and suddenly he put a hand to his forehead and leaned against the wall.
I stepped a little closer_ was he okay?
I caressed the side of his face and turned it to me, looking into his eyes.
Which had no trace of pain in them?
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me against him.
'You are easy to fool, moya lyubov.'
'You bastard.'
Russia laughed.
I sighed and wrapped my arms around his chest.
Feeling his confusion at my sudden lapse in reluctance, I tilted my head up to meet his eyes.
'You know, you're hotter when you're not drunk,' I declared.
He moved his arms to around my waist and rolled his eyes.
'Nyet, I suppose you're lying,' he said, thoughtfully, as If it was actually worth considering.
Seriously, this guy. He was just… so… weird.
'Oh, yeah, of course. Because it's great when you're trying to pin me against a wall and breathing vodka in my face.'
He pushed me away, his face offended. I laughed at his expression.
'Well, fine, have it your way. I won't come anywhere near you, da?'
'You know that's not what I meant.'
'Oh, in that case_'
He tasted strange_ not like alcohol, but it was like there was a sense of freedom in his lips against mine, then against my neck, and my collarbone.
Sure, I did half expect him to grow fangs and suck my blood as we lay there together, but he seemed to be controlling himself, which was a relief.