Author's Note: Done by request from a certain Belarus roleplayer. Theme 25 (trouble lurking) for my 100 theme challenge.
Jesus Christ guys, it's been a while since I actually did a fanfic;; I'd prefer to not get back into it, but let's just say I was given an offer I couldn't refuse.
It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon; the sky was clear, the air was pleasantly warm, truly the peak of summer and all its greatness. Most nations would be using this fine weather to go out and play.
Except for Gupta Muhammad Hassan.
Many thought the Egyptian was hiding out in his house because they assumed he was used to this hot weather because of his desert paradise. Others thought it was plainly because he didn't feel like associating with others. He never did in the world meetings, seeing how he wouldn't even make an effort to speak. Why would he accept their invitations to go out now? Unknown to them, the problem was a bit more than his dislike of 'hanging out' with the younger countries. For the past few weeks this particular lurker had felt peevish, apprehensive, paranoid.
Whether it be sitting at an open window or watering a cactus outside, he felt he was being watched. A silly idea it was, and for a while he had brushed off the feeling. But recently he'd feel completely insecure in his own home, seeing tiny things, such as articles of clothing in his drawer look a tad disheveled as if someone had gone through them. Or his hairbrush which he never really used looking displaced, a bit too far turned to the left for something he never even thought to pick up. The final straw is when he was lying in bed at night and the soft light from the lamp fortunately illuminated a small sliver of silver which caught the corner of his eye; a long strand of platinum blonde hair.
Gupta shifted in his seat. He had no one in mind who would want to bother him. Many people rarely regarded him at all, excluding the annoying Turk. Usually the 'great and powerful' Sadiq Adnan would barge into his home and pig out, leaving a mess of the place. Turkey bothered him openly, not in secret. Surely he would have his stalking episodes, but it was nothing the Egyptian couldn't spot. The pitiable guy must have not found out the definition of 'indiscreet' yet. The creeper probably would go through his clothes and household objects, seeing how he would when he would invite himself over, but after changing the locks last week Gupta had no issue with him any longer. However, that did not solve the mystery of that strand of hair. Did he even have allies with a light-coloured head?
In actuality, he did not. Unknowing to the Egyptian, he had sparked interest in someone that did not want to befriend him, rather than take control of him entirely. This person was peering down at him that very moment through the air vent. Silly Gupta, he could not keep out a Soviet by merely changing the locks. The feeble attempt for him to rid of her nearly made her giggle, so much that Natalia Arlovskaya, usually stoic and cold, had to brush her hand against her Belarusian lips to keep her from letting out a sound. This man was interesting. Though she could have pounced on him to take him down in a single moment, she had been observing her prey; watching him break down from stress. So much, she now found humour in what used to be a chore, as if she found a new plaything. Now she saw what brother saw in this impotent country; not only a warm area next to the sea, but entertainment as a plus. All she needed to do was to watch him go insane. After the fun, she would present him as a gift for brother, and Ivan would love her dearly for it! He'd give her praise for capturing the country he had set his eyes on for so long, only to have that blasted Ottoman get in the way. Now that Ottoman, currently known as Turkey, had no power over Hassan, he was free for the taking. Her taking.
From the vent her bedroom blue eyes drifted and laid rest on the man, young in appearance. At times, she would wonder how old he really was. His body held an ageless charm to it, from his keffiyeh-capped head down to his vital regions – something she had gotten a glimpse at a couple times when he would step in and out of the shower. Pure curiosity, nothing more. Still, his rich tanned skin didn't have a wrinkle in sight, something that gave her a tinge of jealousy. She must find out his secret once he belonged to her. Russia could use his land for location near the Westerners while she would keep him as a pet. There were many mysteries in his countries and she wanted to dig them all up for her personal pleasures.
As he reached to pick up a book on his footstool, Belarus noted the sleeve of his multi-layered robe slide down his forearm, revealing a bit more skin than he usually like to have. He adjusted the garment. She found it strange. How could one in such a warm area dress in a large amount of attire? As one not associated with desert clothing and what purpose they held, she wondered if he suffered from heatstroke out there. Or why he wouldn't take off those robes in his own home. How hot was this man, really? It was a question beckoning to be answered. She had to make this man crack soon. She didn't want to wait any longer to fully own her new plaything and find answers to the questions floating in her head.
Without a sound she crawled through the air shafts from the Egyptian reading in the living room over to his empty bedroom. Kicking the vent open, she dropped from the shaft to the floor. This time she was going to throw him for a big surprise without the mistake of leaving an unwanted trace of her behind, particularly her hair.
She went around the bed to open the closet door, monitoring for anything she could move around or use. She didn't get too far in, for the small area was compacted to the brim with what seemed to all be useless things! Natalia had never seen Egypt as a pack-rat, but you never know with old men.
Crumpled clothes? He wouldn't notice if a few layers are missing since he has so much. Painted pottery? He would be glad to rid of those. The Book of the Dead? Like that would be of any help.
The Belarusian was busy tossing useless objects to the side when she heard a sliding noise behind her. Her head snapped back with her glare turning reserved. Her eyes did not meet the tanned face of Gupta, nor was it his pesky hound, Anubis, which luckily spent most of its time outside. Her face met a masked one of a burly man, one she was not a fan of.
The smug grin Turkey wore on his face drained as a snarl replaced it at the sight of another in the house of his dear Gupta's. Nonetheless his bedroom. Who was this chick? Usually he did not pay attention to many people, but the antisocial expression he had had triggered his memory somewhat. Did this girl know the fatass Russia? Yeah, she was his sister or something. Whoever she was, Sadiq Adnan was pretty sure Egypt would not be in acquaintance with her. He kept his rage down as he climbed completely through the window – the pesky locks couldn't keep him out for long! – and took a stand to glare at Belarus through his mask. "What th' hell are you doing here?" he spat.
Ah, yes. Turkey. A man who had brought Russia, her precious brother, much distress back in the good ol' days. Their bosses may get along and profit off each other, but she could not stand the sight of him. If he was trying to rid of her, much less scare her off, he was poorly mistaken. If he was a competitor for her prize, her soon-to-be pet, she will eradicate him. "That is none of your business, Turk."
There was no way Sadiq was going to take disregard, not from this woman. "In that case, I'm jus' gonna hafta escort you out." Pulling up a sleeve of his dark green hoodie he stormed over to where the broad stood, fisting a hand ready to punch her lights out. One of Belarus' hands trailed her thigh up her dress until she felt her garter, her eyes locked on watching Turkey's moves. At once she grabbed a single weapon from the storage and clicked open a switch blade, swinging upwards. Sadiq stumbled back and dabbed his stubbly chin with a finger. He felt a small cut and a bit of blood.
The man grinned. It turned out this girl was a worthy rival after all. He would have to be more careful. He lunged at her again, dodging a jab of the knife and head butting his forehead against her, careful not to smash his mask. He could take the hit, but Natalia was discombobulated, swaying backwards with a hand to her head as if to cool it. He let out a chuckle.
"Had enough, girly?" he taunted, only to be replied with a hiss. Charming.
As she was distracted with her throbbing head, Turkey moved quickly to finish her off. His foot sprang off the ground as he surged towards her, winding a fist for a punch while giving a raspy battle cry to end this match.
Then an opening door blocked his path and he crashed into it, falling to the ground with the wind knocked out of him. Having been slammed back shut from the collision, the door re-opened and a confused Egyptian popped his head into the room. At first he only saw Turkey – the bumbling idiot! Of course he would be starting this entire hullabaloo in his home. A flash of annoyed relief crossed his face and his grip loosened on a stick he had held tightly to his chest, defense in case a robber was in his house. Sliding into the room, he was about to assist the groaning Turk back on his feet when an object sliced through the air and stabbed at the Egyptian's sleeve, it now pinned to the wall; a knife.
He looked up to where it was thrown from and saw Natalia. The eyes on his otherwise calm face widened so slightly, it could have been entirely imagined. Egypt thought he had finished his business with the Soviets, if he even had any at all. Why was she in- His thoughts paused as he took into consideration her physical features.
Platinum blonde hair.
His eyes narrowed.