I actually have a legit reason for this being late, believe it or not. About a week ago, the news came out that Connor Mantsch and Connor Porter and his father, Pat Porter, died in a tragic plane crash in Sedona, Arizona on Thursday morning, July 26. Both Connors were friends of mine, and it's been a real shock and reality check for all of us. I went to their funeral services today, and I was inspired to finally get this up by the great speech that Mantsch's older sister gave. I don't know if anyone here heard about the accident, but regardless, I just want to dedicate this chapter to both of them.
I hope wherever they are now, that they're having a kick-ass time rocking out to loud music and having all-you-can-eat iHop pancakes at 11 at night. (Don't ask, I don't really know either)
The rest of the day for Ivan went a little something like this: get dragged around by a madman for hours with no break, complaints get ignored, gets fed up with stupid American and dunk the blondes big head into the nearby bobbing for apples stand, Alfred somehow gets an apple and Ivan gets stuck with lugging a giant cat plush while Alfred drags him around for a couple more hours, gets persuaded into buying cotton candy, learns that that was a mistake once Alfred hits the sugar high.
Fortunately and unfortunately for Ivan, sugar highs only last so long before the low. Which is where they were now.
"God, my stomach huuuurts!" Alfred dramatically clutched his stomach, wailing dramatically to Ivan.
"Well, maybe if you hadn't inhaled three bags of cotton candy in less than five minutes, you wouldn't be having this problem, now would you?"
"Dude, you're the one who got me that much."
"It's not my fault you suffer from identity confusion and like to believe you're a vacuum."
"...I still blame you," Alfred puckered his lips and turned his back to the Russian. He had no doubt that when he got home, he would collapse on Mattie's bed and make his brother his personal slave again, demanding Pepto Bismol for his stomach ache.
That could wait, though. There was still time before the festival closed down for the day, and there was no way Alfred was going to leave until he was sure he had seen and done everything he could. If Ivan wanted to go home, that was too bad for him. If the Russian really wanted to, it wasn't like Alfred could keep him from leaving.
Not that he thought Ivan wanted to leave or anything. Alfred wasn't the best at "reading the atmosphere" as Kiku called it, but he was confident that the big guy was having as much fun with Alfred as Alfred was having with him.
Woah, back up. No. Alfred mentally smacked himself on the head, 'I'm not having fun with commie. I'm having fun next to him.'
Glancing back over his shoulder, Alfred grinned at the peaceful smile that adorned Ivan's face. If the guys would be more natural like this more often, maybe people wouldn't be so afraid of him. He really did have a nice smile...
The Russian glanced back at Alfred, catching that Alfred had been staring at him before the blonde snapped his head back, staring straight ahead him. The way Alfred's ears turned red at the tip was the only give away to the crimson blush that covered the American's cheeks and nose like bad sunburn.
'Damn it, what am I doing? Did I really just let him catch me staring at him like that? Man, I must look like a stupid school girl with a crush...Did I seriously just think that?' Alfred wasn't sure if it was possible for his face to get redder, but it sure got a lot hotter than he remembered. Arthur was right; he really needed to stop thinking; it only made things worse.
Well, now that he needed to add face bleach to the list of things he would force Matthew to get, just to get rid of the remaining blush, Alfred decided that they might as well get on with it and scour out the rest of the place to see if they missed anything.
"Well, uh, I don't know if there's anywhere we haven't been to yet-"
"I doubt there is. You dragged me around for about five hours, so I would know."
"Well if there is, I just want to check it out really quick, and then we'll be done, I guess."
"...Oh, da. Of course. Let's go then," Ivan led the way in their quest to find the missed alleyway or stand that didn't exist. He didn't know why Alfred's comment about being done had thrown him off. Hadn't he just said that the American had dragged him around for more than five hours? It made sense that it was the end of the day.
So then, why did he feel like they just started?
Ivan thoughts were interrupted by a notorious voice calling out to Alfred, in all of its obnoxious glory.
"Oi! Alfred! What're you doing here with him?" the albino seemed to pop out of nowhere, much to Ivan's displeasure. He never liked Gilbert, which was fine with said Prussian, since the feeling was mutual.
Gilbert strode up to them, his usual cocky smile remaining despite the intense glare he was shooting at Ivan. The hostility vanished as red eyes met blue. The cockiness remained, of course.
"Gil, dude, what's up! I didn't expect to see you here," Alfred's attention was sucked towards the albino as he stepped forward, leaving Ivan behind him.
"I could say the same for you."
"Yup, I'm here. So, are you having fun?"
"Eh, it could be better. Back to my question though, what are you doing here with...him?"
"...Huh?" Alfred grunted intelligently, looking behind him slightly slack jawed. He had almost forgotten about Ivan for a minute there. Maybe this is what happens when one spends too much time with him; they turn invisible. Hey, it happened to Matthew.
"Oh, uh...Well, since we're going to the dance together, we thought it'd be a good idea to, er...get to know each other a little better, you know?"
Gilbert smirked at them, "By 'we' you mean your mom, right? I highly doubt that you two would decide to hang out willingly. Unless...things have changed?" his red eyes flickered between the two, expectantly.
Alfred was the last to figure out what the Prussian was getting at, and the first to speak up on it, "What? Woah, no way. We just want this to be tolerable, okay? There's nothing...going on between us. Right, Ivan?"
Ivan blinked as the spot light was transferred to him, "Uh...da, yes, right..." It was true, that was the reason they'd even bothered being in the same room as each other for the past few days. Tolerable.
Gilbert remained unconvinced. It was obvious in his eyes, in the worried frown that formed on his lips. "Al, can I talk to you in private for a second?"
"Hmm? Oh, sure, why - ack!" Alfred was cut off as Gilbert yanked him a few yards away, out of hearing distance from the Russian if they whispered. "Ow! Dude, what was that for? I was going to come anyway, you don't have to pull my arm off."
"Alfred, tell me the truth. Has Ivan been nice to you? He hasn't pulled any stupid tricks, right?" Alfred was taken aback by how serious the albino was acting.
"What? No, I mean, I don't think so. Why?"
"Oh, never mind. I just get a really bad feeling about him. I guess I just wanted to make sure..."
"Um...okay?" Alfred wasn't sure how to respond to that. It was a fact that these moments were rare, where Gilbert was serious, but that didn't mean they were any less random than any other time. It was best to nod and let the Prussian say what he was going to, but Alfred felt inclined to add in his opinion. "I really don't think he'd try anything funny on me, I've got contacts. If he pulls any freaky commie shit, I can guarantee he'll be getting a nice vacation with his little sister on a deserted island."
"I have heard he's afraid of her," Gilbert nodded.
"Excuse me, are you two done?" Ivan's voice appeared next to them, making them jump a little.
Gilbert rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, you can have your date back now."
"I-I'm not his date!" Alfred sputtered.
"Sure, sure. Kesesesese!" the Prussian laughed loudly, then sighed, "Well it was good seeing you, Al. I...guess I'll see you later, then?"
"Yup! I think we'll be meeting up at the dance."
"Ugh, don't remind me. Anyway, I'll see you later then!" Gilbert started walking away, waving back at his friend and his enemy.
"Later, dude!" Alfred waved back, smile bright.
Once the albino was out of sight, Ivan turned to Alfred. "What did want to talk about?"
"You know, he didn't say anything in front of you for a reason. It's none of your business."
"...Was it about me?"
"No!" that was a lie, "It was nothing, okay?" That was also a lie. Gilbert had been genuinely concerned for a while there - enough that Alfred had almost believed it was going to be something important. Now he was sure it was just his friend and his grudge against the Russian, believing he was the bad guy who manipulated people in everything he did. Which, he sort of was, but not as much as everyone assumed.
"Alright. Well, I'm tired. I don't think there's anything else you wanted to do?"
"No..."
"Then I guess it's time we headed home, da?"
"Right...I guess so."
"...Bye, then..." Ivan nodded to Alfred, before walking away in the opposite direction Gilbert had, in the direction of the parking lot.
Alfred didn't feel right, just leaving it there. The goodbye felt too forced, too sudden.
"W-wait!" he didn't mean for his voice to sound so disgustingly desperate, but at least it stopped the Russian long enough for Alfred to catch up to him.
"Da?" Ivan patiently waited for the American to say what he wanted.
"Um...At least let me walk you to your car. It's not very heroic to just leave you by yourself," admittedly, that was more of something you did at the end of a date, but Alfred had had a good time, and it was common courtesy, so why not?
"Ah, I don't have a car. I usually just get a lift from my sister."
The comment threw Alfred off. He wanted to apologize for bringing it up, but Ivan seemed perfectly fine with the fact.
"Oh. Then in that case, I'll drive you home, if you'd like."
"Really? Okay then...thank you?"
"Of course! It's only the hero's duty!"
Ivan wasn't sure why the other was doing this. It wasn't necessary, but if Alfred wanted to, who was he to tell the blonde that he couldn't.
They didn't say anything else as the walked down the street towards the parking lot. The path was more vacant now that it was the end of the day. They didn't have the problem of bumping into people or maneuvering around crowds like earlier. It was just them and the soft pads of their feet on the dirt.
Finally, Alfred stopped them in front of a black Ford F-150 pickup truck - his pride and joy, his baby.
Without a word Ivan made his around the vehicle and sat into shotgun, buckling up as he waited for Alfred to start the car. The engine roared to life, a soft hum filling the silence until Alfred spoke up.
"Where to?"
"My house isn't too far from here, just get onto the highway and I'll direct you from there."
"Can do," they fell back into silence, and it was starting to drive Alfred mad. He was a conversationalist, and it didn't sit right with him to be quiet.
Since his lame attempts at making small talk were quickly shot down, he made a point to ask more questions about where they were going than was needed. He felt stupid, not knowing what to say to Ivan. He knew the constant questions made him look incapable of retaining information given to him, but anything was better than not talking at all.
Ivan hadn't lied. Once off the highway, it was only a five minute drive until they entered a small neighborhood. Alfred wasn't going to deny that he was extremely curious to find out what kind of place the Russian lived in.
Was it like a secret base where his family could practice their communist ways, hidden in secret where no one could find out? Or would it be like in the movies; seemingly perfect on the outside, but really in the middle of the house there's an oversized freezer with the frozen bodies of their victims? Alfred had only met Ivan and Natalia, but if their anything to judge by, then he wouldn't put the thought past their family.
"It is right up there, the house with lots of sunflowers," Ivan said as he pointed to a one story house not too far ahead.
"Damn," Alfred eyebrows hit his hairline, "'Lots of sunflowers' does not do it justice. I think that's this state's worth of them right there."
Alfred almost couldn't tell the light beige color of the walls from under the massive patches of bright yellow. These weren't the baby kind either; it looked like all of these could match Ivan's height, or even surpass it, which was saying something considering how tall the guy was.
Alfred pulled into the driveway, making sure the parking breaks were on before turning off the engine and getting out.
"Spasibo. I take much pride in my garden. Unfortunately, I don't know how much longer they will last. Even the winters here are too cold for these beauties," Ivan sighed as he lovingly stroked one of the large petals near him, smiling sadly.
'Wow, talk about a Kodak moment...' Alfred thought to himself. He'd never seen the Russian seem so at peace.
"You really love those flowers, don't you?"
Ivan turned and smiled brightly, "Yes, very, very, much so."
"But I mean, why? Out of all the flowers in the world, why do you like them? They aren't rare or anything, you can find them anywhere around here."
"Nyet," Ivan shook his head, "They may not be special here in America, but where I come from, it's too cold for anything delicate like this to grow," he reached into the patch of sunflowers, easily snapping a smaller one at the base and bringing it to his chest to cradle. "The plants and people of Russia have something in common to live in that climate. You have to be sturdy and strong and resistant to bitter winters and chilly summers."
"Don't you have warm days in Russia, too?"
"Da, in the summer there are actually many days that are warm, but anything that grows during that time is quickly killed off by frosts.
"In America, however...you have so many different climates, so much potential for nature to flourish. Sunflowers always reminded me of the sun, so warm and kind. If I had to choose one, that would be my favorite thing about America...I'm sorry, I'm rambling," Ivan chuckled lightly.
"No, no it's fine. I never really thought about it like that before...If I may ask, why did your family move here anyway?" Alfred was curious. Ivan had always acted like he hated it here, criticizing the government's choices, and just the way things were done.
"Ah. That's actually a bit personal for me. I don't really feel comfortable sharing with you. Sorry," Ivan looked at Alfred apologetically.
"That's okay. I mean, I know there are lots of things I still wouldn't share with you, so I know what you mean..." he trailed off, leaving it there. There was nothing much left to say. He had gotten Ivan home safely, and it was time for him to leave.
"Well, I guess I'll see you later then," Alfred waved and walked back to his truck, opening the drivers door.
"Ah, Alfred!" Ivan called out nervously.
"Hmm, yeah?" Alfred stopped to look back at the Russian. It might have been a trick of the light, but his cheeks seemed pinker than usual.
"I...I just wanted to say thanks for going to the festival with me."
"Oh. Yeah, of course! I mean, it wasn't my idea, but it went pretty well."
"Da.I didn't particularly enjoy being dragged everywhere like a slave, but," Ivan stared at the yellow flower that he was still holding close to his chest, "I had a good time," he added softly, just loud enough for Alfred to hear.
The American paused before nodding, "Yeah, me too."
Alright. One more chapter to go, and then the long awaited dance! Oh my gosh, I have so much planned for that, I can't wait to write it.
