((A/N)): Hey so I'm back I guess? For a little bit and for this weird story that I hope you guys like it.
2p!America (Aldred) and 1p!Belarus (Natalya). Heroin addicts. The chapters might not seem to fit together as smoothly as my others, but I assure you that they make sense. Loosely based on the song 'The Twist' by Metric.
If you have any other questions, please feel free to review and ask me about them!
[WARNINGS]: Foul language, sex, graphic drug use.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Touches, moans, flurries of breath rolling across heated skin. A head swimming without knowledge of anything but the moment. Life in the moment. Feeling lips that brushed and hands that caressed. Feeling nails scrape across flesh like the comforting sting of a needle. Feeling another's physically elating touch without emotions playing a part in release.
Sex. Not making love. Pure, cooked down on a spoon, sex.
Cracked and faded. Shards missing and fallen from the wall where it hung. Black flecks speckled the reflective surface, marring it further and causing ripples across the glass. It was crooked on the peeling wall, cheap drywall showing through the funeral gray coat of paint, and hanging at an odd angle. Not such an angle where it was blatantly wrong, but one that could cause anxiety and nervousness. Because… something was off. Something was always off.
A pale, slim hand reached out through the dusty light, making the motes spin about in the blindingly hot morning sun, and a single finger tilted the mirror on the wall. For one brief moment, it was straight. But as soon as the hand was removed, it tilted once more, still moving slightly until it stilled against the wall in its original, proper place. The crooked angle might have been uncomfortable to the eye, but fit the order of things.
Violet eyes flicked up from the chipped blue paint on her fingers, finding themselves through the cracks and flecks of the glass. They looked like the eyes of someone different—bloodshot with dark circles under. They couldn't be hers. No… Hers were full of life. Her hand lifted to her hollow cheek, touching the dry skin there.
That face… It wasn't hers. Her lips were blooming pink posies, not wilting chrysanthemums this face's were. Her cheeks were thin, but always held a touch of light color, unlike this horrid gray. Her eyes were supposed to shine like amethysts behind long lashes. This dulled, faded appearance wasn't her. It couldn't be.
Natalya reached out, touching the crooked mirror and watching as the bony hand met the reflection of itself in the glass. The dulled eyes locked on their copy and her hand felt as if it was shocked away, falling back to her side quickly as her full appearance was finally realized. A holey tank top and a thin pair of shorts, both of which hung off of her in odd ways. The shirt was too baggy around the chest, stretched from her once reasonable, and now nonexistent, bosom and the bottoms barely clung to her all too visible hip bones. This was just a shadow of her former self.
That stranger in the mirror stared back—the one that looked exactly like her, but completely different.
A noise echoed throughout the empty room, distracting the woman from her own reflection and calling her gaze over to the mattress on the floor of the musky room. There a man lay, his inked back exposed to the air as the sheet slipped down to his waist, just as much a stranger as the one in the mirror. A man whose body she now knew better than her own. Her fingers had caressed that black eagle tattoo across his shoulder blade without the knowledge of how or why it was there.
Her feet made no sound as they padded across the floor and she knelt down, knees making to the mattress dip down toward her with a creak as she watched curiously as the man slept. He had a name, they both had names, but his was shrouded in mystery. In the back of her mind, she knew that once she'd known it, but that was hours ago and the information was now mostly likely lost forever.
Her hands reached forward, playing across the man's spine as if they'd never felt human flesh before. But the scratch marks they danced across and the bruising along the shoulders they found clearly indicated that she'd met his tanned skin before in a very intimate way.
The man made a muffled noise in his sleep, rolling over and looking up at her from behind mussed up brown hair and through bleary eyes. The ruddy brown irises held the same emotions as hers. Confusion, mild recognition, and… déjà vu.
They'd been in this exact position before, many times, and it always went the same way.
"Al…" he murmured under his breath, still gazing up at her in amazement.
"Natalya," she answered, the hand at his back slipped across his shoulders and up to his face.
"Russian name," Al commented as he wrapped an arm around her waist and let his fingers find their way under the hem of her shirt in the back to trace up her side.
"Russian woman." Natalya felt it best not to mention the fact that she was not quite Russian. They were both American now, despite having left their hearts back in their old countries. There were so many other things that mattered more. Like the way his fingers played along her skin. The way she remembered his lips brushed up her throat... A flash of memory found its way into her mind.
X~X~X
Skin on skin. Lips on lips. Rough and needy.
"Where are you from?" she asked, ripping his shirt from his broad shoulders as her lips followed her fingers, leaving marks along his neck when her teeth nipped at his skin.
"Mexico," he panted as his less than skilled fingers fumbled with the bra under her shirt. "And you?"
Her head lifted slightly as her lips brushed up to his throat again before sucking at a spot that made him groan. "Nowhere."
Al's eyebrow rose at that but he shrugged. "Fair enough," he muttered, wrapping an arm around her and rolling them over on the mattress as his half bare body hovered over hers.
X~X~X
"And we've known each other for…?" she spoke, hoping he would finish her statement for her.
But he did not, instead pulling her closer by her waist and pressing her down so that she was lying next to him and the springs of the old mattress dug into her side as a quick spasm of pain shot through her back.
"I dunno, flaca," he murmured with a low chuckle in her ear, letting his lips brush against her skin as his fingers found their way further up the back of her shirt. "How would I know that?"
It didn't matter, did it? Her life was a blur of drugs and sex. What did it matter if there was yet another man in her life?
But that was the odd thing. As Al kissed down her neck and across to her throat lazily, her eyes fluttered closed and she felt that strange sensation flow through her. One that was oh so familiar that it nearly took her by surprise, because it wasn't surprising. She remembered his touch, craving the breaths that rolled off her pale skin the same as she craved the needle.
"Al.." she murmured into his hair before he lifted his head, shooting her that lopsided grin.
His eyebrow raised, his eyes softening for the split moment it took for her to open her own, but the expression changed back to mild cockiness as soon as she stared over at him. "Ya?" he asked, as if that were a real word with a dictionary definition.
She rolled her eyes at the smirk on his face, but knew it hid the same things that her scowl did. Fear, insecurity, desperation.
"I'll give you a choice," Natalya whispered, pushing his shoulder back until he was lying flat on the bed. Her leg hooked around him and she straddled his hips as the bed springs creaked again, now feeling against her thigh exactly what the sheet had been covering.
"First choice," she purred as her fingers splayed over his warm chest, feeling his heart beat speed up under her teasing touch. "We walk over there," her eyes flicked over to where the rest of their stash was, "shoot up, and you go soft in a second." Her hips rolled back on his, letting him feel just exactly what she meant by that comment. He groaned gently, his hands moving up to grab her hips.
"Or…" She leaned back into his lap even more, pressing her weight on him and making him gasp a little as a light blush spread under his tanned skin. There was a glint in her eye that she tried to hide, a mix of desperation and a bit of hope. "… We could actually try to have decent sex?"
Al shifted under her uncomfortably while his eyes darted away from hers, gnawing on his bottom lip as his fingers played with the waist band of her shorts. But they never dipped inside. Natalya sighed heavily, the sound ending in a huff as she rolled off of him and collapsed onto mattress next to him with a wince from the metal springs as his clouded brown eyes followed her regretfully.
"I'm sorry, Nat," he muttered under his breath, the nickname coming to him easily.
But she just shook her head, shoving him off the bed, "Whatever, Alfred."
"It's Aldred…"
Natalya glared up at him, huffing and blowing the hair from her eyes before pushing it away with an unamused expression. "I don't fucking care. Just go get it."
Al did as he was told, scurrying up as he pulled his boxers on. Natalya just sighed again, closing her eyes as she felt her body cool uncomfortably from the lack of his body heat.
The sensations that came next were so familiar that they might have been a comfort had they not conjured gut wrenching images in her mind as she lay there motionless. His anxious breath and a lighter clicking. Next came a curse and then the lighter finally sparked and lit. That sickly sweet of the powder beginning to cook filled the dank room. There was a grunt and the sound of an elastic band being tied off by a hand and a pair of yellowing teeth.
Her eyes opened and her head tilted just enough so that she could watch with dull eyes as the needle entered his skin. Pull back and blood clouded the clear liquid. Hit a vein, but that wasn't surprising. Addicts… They were very good at that. A calm sereneness washed over his face as Al let his eyes drop. Breath left her quietly as she sat up, ignoring him as he fell down onto the mattress next to her, and took up their spoon herself.
Within minutes she was flat on her back with him, giggling a bit as a drug induced smile painted her face in its false color.
"Do… Do you ever think about.. people?" Al asked her, his eyes opening to just slits as his head tilted back and turned to the side as he gazed at her lazily.
Natalya stared back at him, her eyes half lidded, but still more open than his. "People…?" She giggled lightly again, letting her neck and head flop from side to side as if she were shaking her head. "Yeah.." she answered, despite her actions.
"I think about people…" she mumbled, letting her eyes slide closed.
X~X~X
"Vanya, I have to go.." Natalya said in a gentle voice— her features looking much younger, though it was barely a year from the present.
Her brother, who was sitting at their bare kitchen table in a simple chair, did not look up from his newspaper, ignoring his younger sister as he read through the Cyrillic letters which formed into the words he was only pretending to take an interest in.
She shifted uncomfortably as she gripped her arm to keep herself grounded. "There is nothing here for me. Everyone in the town already knows about… my condition. There is no sense in staying." Again, she was ignored pointedly with a flip of the paper.
Natalya bit the inside of her cheek, backing away slightly before her breath caught as his gravel voice finally spoke.
"What about loyalty?"
Blinking, she dropped her arm and stared down at him in confusion. "Pardon..?"
"Loyalty," Ivan stated again, looking up from his paper, and his sharp eyes found hers. "Honor. Love for your country and family. Your family, Natalya… Are those not adequate reasons?"
Natalya winced a bit, feeling that odd tingle in her palms that always accompanied the sinking feeling of dread that shot through her. "Vanya, you know that's not what this is…"
"What is it then?!" He snapped, those eyes burning.
"They can't help me here," she murmured, looking back into those eyes without fear. "There is nothing here that can help me."
His jaw hardened, but this time is was to cover up what she knew was there. Hurt. "What about us?" Ivan asked in a quieter but no softer voice. "Your family. You brother and sister. Can't we help?"
Natalya bit at her cheek again, stepping forward as she leaned down and wrapped her arms around her brother's broad shoulders. She always looked so small next to him, even when she was wrapped around him like this. "No… You know you can't."
Ivan let out a shaky breath, the paper falling from his fingers before his arms wrapped around her waist loosely and he pressed his little sister's forehead to his shoulder. "Get help, Natasha. Get help and then come back here to us."
Her eyes closed and she breathed in, feeling the stone man beginning to crack under her gentle touch. "I will, Vanya. I will… I promise."
X~X~X
Those eyes opened, changed by her drug of choice, and turned to find Aldred humming about to himself. "I think people will be disappointed…"
"Of what?" Aldred asked blearily, talking to the wall instead of her. "You?"
Natalya paused for a moment, blinking and trying to remember what language she was supposed to be speaking. "Da." No, that wasn't it. "Taip." No, still not right. "… Yes." There you go.
The man snorted, rolling over onto his side and pressing his face to her shoulder. "That's fuckin' stupid. Who cares what they think? People never gave a shit about me, why should I give a shit about them?" His words were so harsh, but his voice was doped up and he was still leaning into her like a tired child.
Her head rolled to the side and her lips brushed along his brow as Aldred let out a sigh. Something stirred within her chest and she reached out, pushing the hair from his face and nearly poking him in the eye due to her lack of motor control.
"Did we have sex last night?" Aldred asked in a mumble against her shoulder.
Natalya let her hand drop with exasperation before lifting it and rubbed her temple vigorously, as if she were angry at it. "Yes," she confirmed. "And I think it was good."
His head lifted and a crooked smile played along his lips. "Oh yeah? Good, huh?"
Rolling her eyes, she used that hand to push him away and prop herself up a bit. "You weren't out of your head on drugs, so yes. It was."
Aldred only made an annoyed grunting noise before pressing his face into the pillow. Her arm and elbow failed her as she fell back to the mattress. Letting her head turn to the side, she sighed silently and rolled him over to make sure he didn't suffocate.
"Stay on your side," she muttered before closing her eyes. "If you choke or OD, I'm not savin' your dumb ass."
Aldred mumbled something that might have been in Spanish, but even if she'd spoken the language it would have been Mexican slang and impossible to comprehend anyway. They just laid there, touching but only barely as they hummed through their highs together. Wordlessly, Aldred reached out and took her hand gently. She smiled with closed eyes, letting her chin tilt toward him.
"Next time…" he mumbled to her, the promise clear in his thick, distant voice. "Next time I'll… choose you."
Natalya sighed, her chin now resting against his shoulder. Of course. Next time. Again she felt as if she'd heard that a million times before. Next time he'd choose to be with her over using. Natalya over smack. But this next time would never happen, would it? It didn't matter…
"Next time," she echoed in a voice that resembled his—sleepy, drugged up.
((A/N)): As I said, any questions or comments, I'd be glad to answer ^^