Hahaha! Katie re-edited this, so no more flames! This will probably be the last time I look at this. Now off to go debate about the zombie apocalype. :D Good night, and good luck.
There was once a man who lived in the coldest part of the world.
Not that he minded. He loved his beautiful country, the way the wind howled at night during a storm, how the snow fell quietly, how the cold seeped into his bones.
But if there was anything that Ivan loved more than Russia, it was Yao. Even Anastasia—pride and joy of the country he personified—paled in comparison to the Chinese man.
If Ivan was ice, his beloved Yao was fire. They were two halves of a whole, everything the other could possibly desire.
But Ivan still counted his blessings, unable to figure out what he had done to earn the man sitting in his arms right now.
They were quiet as Yao rested his head backwards onto Ivan's shoulder as he sat comfortably on Ivan's lap, staring at the sunset. One of Yao's hands had found its way into Ivan's, the other playing with the end of Ivan's scarf.
"Ivan?"
"… Da?" The Russian said in response, his eyes closed.
"Why do you always where a scarf, aru?" Yao asked, turning his head slightly to look at his lover's face.
Ivan opened his eyes slightly, looking at Yao. "That's a secret, da." He paused, focusing on Yao's lips. "Why do you ask?"
Yao blushed slightly and turned away. "No reason, aru."
Ivan nuzzled the crook of Yao's neck. "Tell me."
"I was curious. I've never seen you without it, and I couldn't help but wonder if it was sewn on by Natalia or someone," Yao said, feeling himself melting under Ivan's kisses that went from his shoulder to his jaw, sending a shiver through Yao.
"Well, maybe some day I'll tell you," Ivan whispered in Yao's ear, Ivan's breath tickling the side of his face.
"Someday?" Yao asked, dropping Ivan's hand and clasping his own in his lap.
"Someday. I promise," Ivan said, putting a finger under Yao's chin and pulling his face around to kiss him.
Years would pass before the subject was brought up again, but the thought never strayed far from Yao's mind. At times, he would nearly be driven insane as he stared at the cream-colored scarf, waking with it wrapped around him, Ivan sleeping peacefully next to Yao, completely unaware.
It was rare that Yao's mind drifted from the topic. Ivan wore the scarf everywhere: To the World meetings, to restaurants, to the beach. Even Feliciano had commented on the last one, saying that Ivan was weird.
As of late, Yao had found himself asking more and more about the scarf, earning him the same calm answer of "Maybe later."
"Some day?"
"Some day. I promise." And then Ivan would distract Yao with a kiss or a touch, clearly stating the conversation was over.
Yao sat in the bathroom, staring at his reflection. He no longer looked the same Yao that Ivan had fallen in love with, his bright eyes now dull, bags growing under them. He had spent the last week lying awake, listening to Ivan breathe. Horrible thoughts plagued the small Chinese man's mind of Ivan the nights the two weren't together. He spent most nights tossing and turning, thinking of Ivan with another in his arms. A horrible thought had been playing its horrid tune in his brain, that maybe the scarf hid the hickeys and bite marks of Ivan's newest lover.
Yao pulled his hair back, ignoring the hairs that pulled away from his scalp as he pulled it back into his normal ponytail.
His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep as they stared back at him, and he saw the tears he had been fighting back springing up again in his eyes. He hastily scrubbed at them with the back of his sleeve. When he succeeded in stopping the tears, he chuckled darkly at himself. 'I'm no better than a hormonally imbalanced teenager…' He thought, staring at his hands.
A pair of arms wrapped themselves around Yao's waist, pulling him close to a much colder body. "Yao, why must you cry?" Ivan murmured into Yao's neck, sending shivers down the Chinese man's spine.
Normally, Yao would have found this position comforting, but the thought of someone else where he stood while Ivan whispered sweet nothings into their ear was too much. He pushed from Ivan's grasp, moving out of the small bathroom.
"Yao…" Ivan called after him, but Yao pushed onward, a single thought in his mind as he walked to the bedroom.
He attacked the room, hastily pulling out outfits and shoving them into a suitcase he had pulled out from the closet. He hurt all over, his eyes rubbed raw from all the silent tears that poured down his face and he made no move to wipe them away. Yao felt his soul shatter with every piece of clothing he hastily packed, and the thoughts in his brain screamed their victory over and over again.
Ivan's arms snaked around him again, holding him still. "Yao! What are you doing?"
Yao felt the arms around him, and suddenly, everything inside him seem to shatter inside of him. The Imperial Guard Uniform slipped from his fingers, but the clinking noise it made when it hit the ground was lost in the sobs that ripped from Yao's throat, his body shaking with the power of them.
Silently, Ivan pulled Yao around to face him, stroking Yao's inky black hair as the other man sobbed broken-heartedly into his chest. Rarely did anything past by Ivan, he noticed everything. He had passed off Yao's sideways glances as nothing, thinking merely that they were mentions of what would happen later (and often did).
But lately he had noticed something different about Yao. Shadows that grew under Yao's eyes with every passing day screamed of the lost sleep, and once, Ivan had woken in the middle of the night to a sobbing Yao as the smaller man fell into some sort of a dazed form of sleep. Ivan had listened to the practically incoherent words Yao had muttered, noting that it was always about the scarf that sat around Ivan's neck.
He waited till Yao's cries quieted, gently stroking Yao's hair as the Chinese man's sobs finally melted into small hiccups. "Yao… What's wrong milaya moiya?"
Ivan frowned as this seemed to only set Yao off again, and fresh tears began to streak down the Chinese man's face. "Ivan, how do I know you love me?" He whispered, wiping the tears from his eyes as he turned his head away.
Ivan caught Yao's chin with his fingers, gently pulling it around. "Yao, everything I do, I do for you. Why would you even-"
"How do I know? How do I know you aren't playing with my heartstrings?" Yao said, refusing to meet Ivan's gaze.
Ivan frowned. "Yao… I've told you a hundred times, and I'll do it a hundred more. I love you, and I'll do anything to prove it to you."
Yao paused, then finally looked up at Ivan, noting the look of sincerity on his face. "Anything?"
At Ivan's nod, Yao bit his lip. "Would… Would you take off the scarf?"
Ivan's eyebrows rose, and he hastily let his arms drop. "Yao… I'm sorry, but I-"
Ivan watched in desperation as Yao's eyes began to water and he began to cry again. "Then… Then you don't love me…"
Ivan felt like he was drowning in a deep pit. "No, Yao, what I mean is… Well… It's strange….and-" He paused, looking at Yao's face, and he sighed, feeling trapped by his earlier words. "If… If it means so much to you… then fine… I'll do it."
Yao watched as Ivan began to undo the scarf, and he held his breath in anticipation and fear.
Ivan inhaled as if steeling himself for something that was about to happen. "Yao… I love you…" He whispered, and silently a tear fell from his eye.
"I love you too Ivan…" Yao said back, wondering exactly why Ivan was crying as the Russian finished pulling off the scarf.
The scarf fell to the ground, and Yao's eyes widened as he saw the horrible looking gash running across Ivan's neck as Ivan's body fell to the ground, sending his head rolling to Yao's feet, who let out a long, piercing shriek.
Yao sat up screaming. Instantly, he slapped a hand to his mouth and sat still, listening to the silent house as his scream echoed through its dark corridors.
Silently, he glanced over to the man in the bed beside him, noting that he had slept right through it. After a minute, he shook his head, sighing. "I swear Ivan… Someone could come and murder me and I bet you wouldn't even notice."
"Would too." Ivan muttered as he wrapped his arms around the small Chinese man's waist, pulling the long-haired man to him. "My little China is too important to simply ignore…" Yao smiled into the darkness as he moved closer into Ivan, ignoring the cold skin of the other man as it touched his own. Ivan gently stroked his partner's hair in the darkness, feeling the heartbeat of the other man's heart slow down. "Bad dream?"
Yao nodded as he rolled over, burying his head into Ivan's chest as he closed his eyes. "I dreamt you took off your scarf and your head fell right off your shoulders…"
Ivan looked across the room to the scarf hanging on a chair and smiled slightly as he kissed Yao's neck. "Milaya moiya, we both know that is prepostorous. Anyway, even if I die, there will always be something that won't leave your side."
Yao yawned slightly as he glanced up at Ivan, feeling sleep begin to wash over him again. "What's that?"
Ivan smiled. "My heart." He whispered, kissing Yao gently on the lips. "But, if you ever wake me up in the middle of the night again without reason, I won't be the only one in this house with body parts randomly falling out of me."
Yao chuckled. "Good to know." He muttered, and Ivan watched as he fell asleep again.
Ivan smiled at his adorable little man, then kissed him on the forehead. "Sweet dreams Yao, and always remember that even if everyone becomes one with Russia, you will always be my Yao, and mine alone." He whispered before he too fell asleep.
