Mourning Light

Russia collapsed on his bed, it whined with the sudden contact. Ivan was unbelievably drunk, America wouldn't seize his rude insults bringing up horrid memories Russia drowned out after the meeting ended, with large amounts of vodka. He felt a trail of hot tears track down his cheek, at first he tried ignoring it but… he couldn't. He found himself curled into a ball and sobbing into his knees until he fell into a deep, drunk sleep, not even bothering to change from his normal attire, only discarding his coat.

~Motherfucking time skip~

"Ha! I got here before that commie bastard!" America shouted annoyingly loud. England did think that was odd though considering America was only slightly on time, Russia was usually the first here, before himself even.

"Yes, but where is he? I don't think Russia is one to be late…" England answered glancing at the clock, 3 till.

"Who cares? It'd be better if doesn't come at all!" America laughed loudly… like always. Even though Ivan proved to be quite…intimating at times he could help but be slightly worried. He wondered himself, why care so much? They didn't talk often, they weren't exactly friends, but they weren't enemies either.

His thought process was interrupted as Germany's loud voice called everyone into order. England's mind, however, slowly slipped back to the violet eyed arctic nation. His eyes scanned the room, he couldn't find him.

"ENGLAND!" Germany's voice again, broke his train of thought.

"W-what?!" England jumped jerking to look at the harsh, blue-eyed nation.

Ludwig laid a hand on his forehead, feeling a vein pop out. "That's the third time I called you…We are just roll calling, okay next…"

"Oh, so sorry." He felt slightly embarrassed, but just continued to look for Russia, he still couldn't find him, he wouldn't miss a meeting would he? I mean he is Russia, not once if England could recall had he missed one. He did, however remember perfectly well the crude things America spat at him, even though he had no reason, really, hadn't he raised him to be more gentleman-like?

"Russia?" England heard Germany call finally. No answer however was replied. "Russia?" Germany then scanned the room. "Really? He's not here?" England felt his lip curl, did Germany sound relived?

"I can go check on him, perhaps?" England said loud enough for Germany to hear. Germany looked at him, surprised; England himself was quite surprised he volunteered. The Baltic's looked at him, shaking their heads. England hardly glanced their way. "Anyone have his room number?" He asked boldly, America was giving quite a questioning look, it was amusing.

"607!" England looked for the voice. Belarus, of course he should have guessed. "I shall come to see brother too." Then Ukraine suddenly grabbed her dress hem and whispered something in her ear. She looked to England narrowing her eyes until her sister whispered again, and she sat down. "You may go." She said looking away.

England wondered what the older sister had said. Germany yet again called everyone back into line. When had they even started bickering; England didn't know but looked to Germany along with them.

"Okay, England if you really want to go a head and check on him…" He looked at England questioningly, like saying, it was better to just leave the arctic nation alone.

England found himself narrowing his eyes at the sharp blue ones Germany used to question him. "Then I shall be back shortly." He said pushing his chair away and walking to the door when a voice stopped him. Everyone else had begun to bicker again, brushing England off.

"Seriously? You alright England?" America's was the voice that had stopped his quick footsteps.

The only reply he got was Arthur's harsh glare. He felt he was getting good at it from today alone. America just shrugged and started talking to Canada. (Surprisingly)

Arthur trudged up the stairs; he wondered if Ivan would even be here, maybe he went back to Russia? England then found him a bit hesitant when he thought of how scary Russia could be, but then shook the feeling off, he would be no better than all those un-trusting idiots he escaped from. Suddenly, he found he was already at the designated room number. Russia was behind that door… he felt his heart speed up, and wondered why grasping the cloth restraining his quickening heart.

He stared at the golden sticker numbers, then closing his eyes tightly, he knocked on the door… nothing… he opened his eyes and furrowed his brows; he must have really gone home. He knocked again, and again nothing. He became slightly irritated, and more bold grasping the door handle he turned. It was actually unlocked! He pushed the door open and poked his head in.

There was a single bed; covers bundled on the floor next to it. The pale light than escaped the large windows facing the bed was… elegant… like a painting. It marked light shadows across the room which changed ever slightly when the curtains would dance with the wind. The air smelled of fresh snow, the window was open, and he could feel the cold breezes stinging his nose as Arthur inched further into the room. He noticed the beauty of the entire room at once again, the breeze shook as he stepped in with his full body as if welcoming him and England happened to notice sunflowers, the were scattered on the ground making the room look even more like a beautiful painting you would see in a museum.

Arthur also happen to notice the not-so beautiful things, like why the sunflowers were on the floor on the first place, a shattered clear blue vase that obviously held the sunflowers lay all over the floor. Also there were broken vodka bottles all over the floor. Arthur found it contributed to the scenery. The liquid that wet the floor caught the light in a way that made pale rainbows that seemed almost on the brink of fading. He walked lightly on the carpeted floor as if not to disturb the beauty, when suddenly he heard a sigh and someone turned on the small bed. There, in the middle of the room he saw him. His hair was actually glittering in the sun, like silver. England found he couldn't look away, Russia was indecently dressed, no shirt and pants hung loosely to surprisingly feminine hips. His scarf was bundled under his head lie a pillow.

England's feet moved without permission, he sat right next to the Russian man carful not to wake him. Were Russia eyelashes always so long? Before Arthur even knew what he was doing he lifted his hand up to brush the long pale lashes. Their so soft, they feel like fine silk. He cupped Russia cheek finding it just as soft, but it was damp. England furrowed his brows and noticed a glittering trails of tears, he suddenly felt protective when a sudden sigh escaped the violet eyed nation, England flinched realizing what he was doing and stepped back… he fell to the floor suddenly as he slipped on vodka he guessed by the sweet smell. He picked himself up quickly thinking Russia would be awake by the huge sound.

Russia stirred a bit a loud sound resounding in his head but again lost all consciousness, or so he thought. He started a sad dream when sleeping, a memory.

England glanced sure enough Russia now had his eyes open, Arthur again was stunned by the beauty, they were so perfectly painted purple, like a summer sunset. They seemed so much paler, and innocent in the dim mourning light that cascaded over the modern room giving it the stirring mysterious beauty. Russia seemed to notice England as his eyes lazily glanced to the blonde male. Russia muttered something inaudible, in Russian he caught that much. England leaned in closer curious.

"I'm sorry chap could you repeat?" Russia sat up quickly and sloppily and England noticed the strong scent of alcohol on his breath, he wasn't still drunk right? Russia spoke in rapid Russian, too fast for England to catch but abruptly stopped. He then sported a bittersweet smile that seemed so sad… in this light it could have been magical. His lashes shadowed his face to look like a fairy, and his hair shown multi-colored as the sun seeped the rainbow from it looking as though Russia created the magnificent thing. He looked up at England, and he was shocked for what he saw on the beautiful face… tears were streaming down his face as he looked like he struggled to keep the smile on his face. His purple eyes glittering with the pouring liquid dying his face purple, as the reflection dribbled with the tears, he spoke again in Russian, Arthur caught it this time only because he was repeating it endlessly. "I'm sorry." He spoke in his native language. "I'm so sorry." Right then and there Arthur couldn't care less about the meeting, or even if ht entire world was ending! He scooped Russia into his lap and held his head against the crook of his neck, while Russia, no, Ivan cried softly muttering apologizes for heaven knows why.

Arthur continued to shush his and mutter encouraging words, all while rubbing mindless patterns on the Russians still clothed back. Soon though the crying stopped and was replaced with deep rhythmic breathing as Ivan fell into drunken sleep, again. England felt sad for some reason, now he had no reason to stay, he should go and tell the others Ivan was ill, or make something else up, he situated Ivan on the bed comfortably. Arthur turned to go, when he found he couldn't, he turned to see Ivan had his shirt tightly clasped in his hand. His eyes were open only the slightest bit, muttering one word in English before totally passing out. "Stay…"

That's all it took Arthur smiled he went to lock the door so no one else, mostly the annoying ones, wouldn't come to bother them. And stripped himself of his boots and jacket before laying in the bed with Ivan picking up the bundled heap of blankets on the floor spread it across their bodies gracefully, Ivan unconsciously snuggled into the heat that was England, and Arthur accepted it wrapping his arms around the surprisingly, slim figure, until he too fell asleep.

AN: Okay so, I'm sorry if this isn't any good, this is my first fanfiction. So I hope you like it! You don't have to review but you, know it's my first I would love it if you would~