The day was wonderful; the sky was clear, the weather was warm and the sun shone bright. Hard as it may be to believe, sunflowers covered vast plains across the cold country known as Russia, providing large spots of green and yellow across the terrains.
Russia, Ivan, had always loved those flowers, big and warm, he identified himself with them; they were his bestfriends and his escape.
On this day, he had come to one of those fields, one that was near his house, with the company of his beloved (f/n), aka (country). When everyone ran away from him, she had made an effort to get to know the broken nation better, she had tried to understand him and she had successfully managed to do so; the two had been drawn together and had eventually accept it.
Now, today, the two lazily laid together by the flower field; sitting on the picnic blanket, Russia had his back leaned against a tree trunk, (country) sat on his lap, her chest supported on his chest as the male's arms held her body close to his. For endless hours they talked, joked and laughed freely, no one was there to judge them like it usually happened, they were free to be themselves together and without restraints. They walked together, across the enormous flowers, with their hands linked, signalling their bond.
After a while they stopped, right at the center of the field and, slowly, Ivan leaned in, softly bumping his forehead to hers. His eyes lingered on her lips; he was nervous, afraid such a gesture would scare her away, afraid he would scare her away if he tried for their first kiss too abruptly, and so he shyly asked:
"Sunflower... may I kiss you now?"
"Da!" she answered with a sweet smile and a light blush, making use of his language to give the confirmation.
He smiled and softly pressed his lips to hers, calmly, avoiding any kind of rush. Her eyelids fluttered together, as did his, as his arm moved to hold her close, her hands clutched the sides of his long coat; their lips moved in synchrony. He was careful and took things slow. Softly he nibbled on her bottom lip and the entering permission was willingly conceded.
The faint flavour of vodka invaded her palate.
Mere seconds had passed instead of the long minute it had appeared when they parted. Their foreheads had once again been joined in place of their lips; sweet, loving smiles spread across their faces.
"Ya lyublyu tebya, sunflower!" he stated, pecking her lips one more time.
"I love you too, teddy bear...!" she giggled, returning his small act of affection with a peck of her own on the tip of his nose.
There, on the field, they remained in eachother's warm embrace until it was time to return.