T/N Autor: Руми Кагэро
"You're paranoid," Gilbert almost hissed. "You got carried away by the game into spies! This boy has a single desire, is to turn all of his territories into a huge McDonald's!"
"It seems to me that you misunderstand the situation, Ivan. Alfred does come to me often, but believe me, he never talked about you." In Estonia's voice, there is heard condescension and a little - triumph.
"Russia" China pushes him a Cup of tea but looks away. "Do not look for what is not. I do not argue, his Boss is pretty harsh in his statements, just like America himself. But you need to understand that they need to maintain their image. This is the usual game to the public. They are not very flattering about many people. Just... Don't take it to heart."
Ivan knows what those words mean in "translation". He is biased to Alfred and too fixated on itself. And the world, here a surprise, can rotate without him. And America has better things to do and more interesting than chasing him.
But Ivan knows that he is not mistaken. He feels the views that are felt to be like a gun pressed against the back of the head.
He knows for sure that in the chaotic movements of Jones there is some sense when he travels the world. Sometimes, during some foreign trips, he notices the familiar golden-haired head in the crowd. Jones is not particularly hiding - he wants to be noticed. Noticed, but not caught.
He looks away before Ivan turns around and disappears before he can catch him. After several failures, Ivan stops attempts.
And then Alfred begins, as it accidentally touched him. He touches his shoulder in the aisle when he passes by, presses his knee under the table during the meeting, slides his finger on Ivan's palm when he transmits documents.
Ivan does not react. It is worth giving in once and it will not be able to stop. He remembers how it was during the Cold War. At that time everything also began with fleeting touches and looked, and ended with sex on the desktop, on which lay the treaty on the elimination of medium- and short-range missiles.
Alfred seemed to be in no way affected by his indifference. He smiles and still does not look at him, only now in conversation he began to use code phrases, meaning that only they know.
"It does not interest me," Ivan once tells him, just to finally clarify the situation.
"You really think so?" Alfred is distracted from his phone, but not from a hamburger. He tilts his head interestedly. At the corners of his lips were crumbs and the blue eyes look really perplexed.
Ivan nods and tries not to think about how he wants to hit Alfred's face until it starts bleeding.
Alfred himself comes to him a couple of months in Mombasa. He sits down on a nearby chair at the bar and asks the bartender to bring cola with ice.
In black aviator sunglasses, light shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt, Alfred looks like a Hollywood secret agent on vacation. And the only thing that spoils the image is the lack of real booze in a glass.
"Stalking is a criminal offence." Indifferently says, Ivan.
"The psychologist says it's sublimation, and in fact, I'm terribly in love with you. It if it is short. The official conclusion was on 20 pages in fine print, half of which I did not even understand."
"It does not look like love," Ivan finally says when he is tired of looking at the colourful umbrella in his cocktail.
"Then it's just a confession. Think about it." Alfred also looks up from the glass and shrugs.
"It's over" reminds Ivan to himself or for Alfred.
Alfred smiles and atomic explosions dance in his eyes.
"Nothing has ended."
And Ivan somehow believes him.
T/N If you see mistakes in the text, please tell me about this.