Yeah, I just wanted to write a short LietPol fic, because I love that pairing so much. This is the first time I write anything Hetalia related, so I'm sorry if I fudged up the characters ;-; I just really needed to write this. Anyways hope you like it and that I didn't do that horrible of a job at writing them. Remember Read and Review ^-^
There's a stupendous view from the window in Poland's room. You can see the stars start to splatter across the sky as the night approaches. The rye fields, which were bright green in the daylight, start to loose their color. Only shadows of the grass, swaying along with the breeze, are left to prove its existence. Lithuania is quite fond of this scenery. Every time he gets the chance, he watches the change from evening to night, Poland usually in the background saying something non-sensical. Today, Lithuania finally has the chance to admire the scene once again, Poland is unusually quiet and still next to him.
"It's weird. Isn't it? How the stars seem to be trying to out shine each other," Lithuania says, finding comfort in the silence.
"Liet, do you, like, even here what you're saying?" Poland teases.
"I was trying to be poetic, but of course you wouldn't understand," He replies, his eyes never leaving the sky, a small smile forming.
"I totally understand! I was just kidding, okay," Poland says, a bit offended, and then in a softer tone he adds, " It's like they're having a contest, to see who's more beautiful..." He pauses, glancing over at Lithuania,"And the winner gets like, all the ponies in the world!"
"I find it really hard to understand you sometimes," Lithuania's eyes leave the night sky in favor of the blonde boy next to him.
Poland faces him, a big grin plastered on his face. He's about to say something crazy, Lithuania can see it in the way his eyes twinkle.
"Do you think, maybe, if I was a star, I'd be the prettiest?"
The question catches Lithuania off guard. Crazy, wouldn't be the right word to describe this question. There's something in the way he asked that makes Lithuania wonder. The silence starts to make Poland uncomfortable, wishing he hadn't asked the stupid question in the first place. He feels a knot in his throat form. What answer he might receive terrifies him, or even worse, an answer he might never receive. Lithuania notices the terror in his eyes, and realizes just how long he hasn't said a word.
"Oh God, I'm sorry, I just got lost in my own thoughts," he bursts out, breaking the silence.
"It's fine Liet. You like, don't have to answer the question if you don't want to," Poland rolls his eyes, shrugging it off as if it was nothing.
"Oh right! You're question... Well, you'd probably win all those ponies," he smiles.
"So you think I'm pretty?" he smirks, batting his eyelashes.
"I-I didn't say that," Lithuania replies defensively, blood rushing to his cheeks.
" You kind of, totally did though,"
" There's no winning an argument against you," he says in defeat, rushing away from the window and heading towards the bed, which is, unusually, neatly done.
" Whatever, I know you think I'm hot," he replies.
Lithuania is pulling the covers away, when he looks up and there's that same big playful smile that Poland always gives him when he's successfully made him uncomfortable. He quickly looks away, the blush on his cheeks returning. Poland doesn't understand what makes him so uncomfortable. He always plays around with him like this. He takes a deep breath, throwing himself on the bed.
"I was just playing around. You know that right?" Poland says turning over, only to be faced with the other boys back.
"Of course I do," he sighs.
"Aren't you gonna lie down or something?"
As the question is asked Lithuania turns to face Poland abruptly, who is now sitting up and has his knees pulled close to his chest. Poland is met with a dead serious look on Lithuania's face, he feels his heart skip a beat. For a minute he thinks that Lithuania might be mad at him, but then Liet finally speaks up.
"You know you hog the covers, right?"
The smile on Poland's face returns, denying that he ever does, and then proceeding to wrap himself in the sheets. A small laugh escapes Lithuania's mouth, he's lying on his back, eyes closed. He remembers the first time he spent the night there. He remembers Poland crossing his arms, babbling on about how he was the one in control. Lithuania had found it difficult to take him seriously, the way he seemed to dramatize everything he said. He's gotten used to these habits, even come to like them.
Poland has a weird way of acting. To strangers he's shy, anxious to get them away, it's almost impossible to get to know him. Somehow, though, a few manage to get into his life, Lithuania being one of those few people, and once they're in, he will never let go. It's troublesome, a bad quality to have, to be so dependent of a person, to get so attached that you'd die without them.
Selfish. That's the word Lithuania chose to describe him once. Lithuania had been frustrated, the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. It hurt Poland more than he would admit, but the smile remained on his face.
"Even if you, like, hate me, it totally doesn't change that I like you," were the words Poland used in response.
At the time Lithuania shrugged them off as something only Poland would say, something crazy and this angered him even more. Who does he think he is? He's not invincible. Why does he have to be so selfish? These were the thoughts storming around in his mind. The meaning behind Poland's words never crosses his mind, until later.
The night is quiet, the only sound heard is the steady breathing of the two boys as they lay on the bed, waiting for sleep to overcome them.
" Pol, you still awake?" Lithuania asks remembering something from long ago.
"Hmm," he mumbles.
"If you're too tired I can tell you tomorrow," he sighs.
"Just tell me now, Liet," his green eyes now becoming visible under the moonlight.
"...I like you too."
"You better."
Lithuania smiles, expecting nothing more or less from him. He doesn't need him to say it directly, because he knows. He knows that he cares for him the same way he does. It's in the way he chooses his words as if to mean nothing, but they mean everything. The way he smiles at something painful, even though you could see, in his eyes, that he's hurting. No, he doesn't need to hear it, because he's known him long enough, that he can see it.