Belonging to Ivan
"Lithuania. You are mine, da?"
That was the simple message he had received. He had learnt to deal with it by now – it had been a long time since he had first heard the statement. And now, now, he was finally getting used to the thought of being one with Russia. He was still not utterly content with the situation, but... if he followed orders, he figured, he could get by in the Soviet house. Ivan was a very harsh master when disobeyed, but Toris had enough luck to be the favourite servant in the house.
His situation was certainly not the best, no. But it wasn't the worst one he could have gotten in, was it? When he followed orders and managed to keep his jumpy nerves under control, Ivan was by far nicer towards him than anyone. Not to mention, he got to share a house with a beauty – his room was directly next to Natalya's.
Ah, Natalya… He could dream about her forever. He missed her dearly – they had been one before, long ago. Now, he was barely able to get near her. Yes, she occasionally touched him, though his clothes and sometimes skin had a bad tendency to be ripped afterwards. He… didn't really mind. Being close to her was worth any price. He would give up himself for her.
Sometimes, he would find himself tracing her scent. Her natural scent was almost everywhere in the house, and unique enough for him to recognise it. Particularly, he would often find it outside several of Ivan's doors, or in the kitchen, or around her room. Oh, how many times had he not gotten in trouble because of that mesmerizing smell? It was somewhat like vanilla, he figured. She smelled of faint vanilla. A sweet scent that left an impression on him like few other things could ever do.
Another place he would often discover her scent was, unsurprisingly, on Ivan himself. It was traceable on him for hours after her sneak attacks. His clothes, hair, scarf… All covered in it. On these occasions, when Ivan was in a good mood, Toris would sometimes dare to let him close.
"Little Liet… You will always be mine."
He had long ago found that Ivan being in a good mood more often than not meant that he appreciated – partly demanded – attention from him. Toris would suddenly find himself having been lulled into a feeling of security by the faint traces of Natalya's smell and the sweets Ivan had to offer, and suddenly realise he was letting himself be hugged close by Ivan, and he would find some of that familiar scarf wrapped around his own neck.
That had been one of Ivan's favourite ways to show who Toris belonged to. Wrap some of the scarf around his neck. That way, he was unable to go away from him, and wherever Ivan went, everyone could see Toris close by him. And, for some bizarre reason, Toris was mostly okay with it. Even though Natalya always wounded him for it later, and even though Ivan was incredibly scary at ALL times, he couldn't bring himself to find a good argument for trying to get away. Why would he? The scarf was warm and comfy, and Ivan was surprisingly nice at times.
Toris would shiver sometimes when Ivan got very close, like when he hugged him close, played with his hair, or looked down on him with a smile bigger than Toris was truly comfortable with. But gradually, he would come to get used to it. The warm closeness was after all a very welcome break from the cold, sinister mood he would sometimes find Ivan in, and he quickly decided that he enjoyed the company of the calmer one far more.
"I know you will never leave me, little Toris… You won't, will you?"
He belonged to Ivan. It wasn't a question, it was a fact. A fact of life that would not change for several years and Toris was strangely okay with it for now. Ending his stream of thoughts, he shifted slightly, huddling up against the largest nation in the world once more.
A/N: Just a quick one-shot based on my real-life experiences as a Liet-cosplayer, due to a lack of internet and anything better to do. This is to you, Vanya, for being a comfy Russia~