Delusion, delusion.

Everyday. We delude ourselves everyday.

That isn't love.

the f i r s t

"A-ah," breath fast, air thick, a low, guttural groan fled his teeth, "harder, nnh," a sharp intake of breath, "oo-oO-O-oaaahh. Hnnnnhn. Ah." Every movement too slow, each touch too soft— it wasn't enough. "R-rghh, -AOo. Nn, Fuck me, ah," breath, "fuck me, England." A moment, a movement. "No, ah, fuck this, —not like that. No, fuck, HAr-de-r," pressure, "OOOaaAoo, ah, ahhhhhhnn, nnh, YEs."

The bodies flexed, contorting against and around. Pressure, more pressure. Oa, more. Yes, yes, that was it. The air became weight, harsh metal too cool, forcing them closer. Magnets, no. Pressure. Oa. It was sedimentary rock, forced and formed together. Evasion would break them, dissolve to dust. Nnnn, no, not yet. Urgh. Oh, oh, yes yes, that was it, not much more— oh, oh, too slow— pressure— yes, oAhhh, yes, nMMh, ah, just—

Silence. For a frozen moment: no life, no pulse, no change. Not death: non-existence. There was nothing; they were nothing. False: inhuman: untrue, impure. Nothing.

Yet close. Yet alive. No metal, no rock: flesh; warm and wet. Existent. Yes: yes, this was true. It was life, it was relation, it was truth: it was immortality, no understanding of which was itself: it was love. They were superior beings, they were all beings, they were everything.

They were the world.

the world is false.

the s e c o n d

"Birdie~ oh, my birdie, the awesome me has brought you something~" the voice chimed the air, low, though not husky, echoing on full (empty) walls. The speaker tall and lithe, muscular, and dressed in a hue only for his own, red eyes turned violet flash in amusement, starkly pale hair shimmering in fake warmth (synthetic lighting: beauty?). Shoulders held high, standing tall, Prussia strut into the kitchen; gift abandoned on table, arms twisting around a slighter form, pulled against to savor warmth.

"Mm, Gil, you didn't have to get me anything." (but I don't know you know— can't say so) the younger (recent) murmured happily into the crook of his lover's neck, enjoying the warmth and presence. Leant back slightly over the counter, the embrace was unconsciously tightened (I can't let go. I need this, I need this. Please, I don't want to fade. Please, I want to be seen. I'll fade away…).

"Good, 'cause you're supposed to share it with me." (uncertainty— too fragile, he couldn't let go. He couldn't endanger this— …wasn't even alive) the ex-nation boasted back to the large though timid nation, voice loud and exuberating confidence and playful teasing. He leaned in quickly, stealing a warm kiss (…-at?) and smirking at the contact. "Mhmm, " he inhaled deeply through his nose, drawing in the scent of his lover (maple, deep forest, fresh torn bark— he drew his nose along the man's jaw line into his softly curling hair –dusty open prairies, clear mountain breezes— he gently kissed his temple, chapped lips feathering heated skin –fresh, appealing sweat, and—) "Canada." The dead man spoke tenderly, fingers caressing without movement, eyes connecting while closed (it was a sigh). "What are you cooking?"

A quick, breathless laugh. "You really need to ask?" (insecurity) he whispered to his lover, eyes scanning the other's face lovingly (worry).

A strange counter; a snicker of 'kesesesese'; a nuzzle. "Don't forget to make some for yourself, birdie." (My birdie) (—please). The albino opened his eyes, matching the carefree (worry) search of well-known (nothing stays the same) features. The eyes met (-at? …-as ...-hat?). "I love you, birdie." (My birdie).

A contented hum. "Mm, I love you, Gil." (Too.)

(He did not delve.)

(The searching stopped.)

Their eyes were still connecting, love apparent and emotion shared.

(Everything changed.)

(He could not hold on.)

(He wasn't strong enough.)

(They mustn't pry.)

(Everything changed.)

(It was much too fragile.)

(But this was essential.)

Contact discreetly lapsed, lips replacing.

(Please.)

(Please.)

(I can't…)

(I won't-)

(let go.)

(kill this.)

This was love.

Opinions are false, judgment incorrect. The brain does not tell truth.
Uncertainty is all (it is basis).

the t h i r d

Marry me, marry me, let's get married.

Force. Ruler of the world, unbending, not flexing, unwavering to all; power.

Marry me, Ivan. Vanya. Vanya, marry me. Let's get married.

Consistency.

Vanya, I love you, I'm all you need. Let's get married, Vanya. Marry me. Marry me.

Ignorance.

Vanya, I won't leave you. I promise, Vanya. Vanya, I promise. We'll be together forever: let's get married.

Perseverance.

Vanya.

Breaking.

I love you.

Purpose.

Marry me.

Unthinking.

Let's get married.

Nothing.

Tremors.

What was this?

It was nothing.