Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine, da?

I have heard I need to make chapters longer. I will try my best, but updates will be longer… My work varies in its shift so I am not having much time to write.

Patience is a virtue, yes?

Chapter 8

Garden

Arthur was gesturing to buildings around them, speaking fondly and stealing swift glances to Russia to see his reaction. Ivan would nod his head and appear interested. This pleased the blonde man and he would flash a smile to the Russian and he would continue excitedly. Russia turned it into a small game. How many times could Ivan get that smile out of the man in this walk?

Apparently the answer was 27, because they came to an abrupt halt in front of a smaller home of sorts. England placed his hands on his hips and gestured to the building with his head. His eyes glimmered with excitement. Ivan decided that he would invest in emeralds.

"This is home. Welcome to London!" He waved his hand and gave a small bow; Ivan studying the building more closely. Stone masonry held the whole thing up, its windows shaped evenly into four quadrants. A large black metal fence surrounded the home, vegetation growing around it. The roof was tiled black, a small chimney jutting out of the top, giving it a sort of nostalgic feel to it. Ivan felt that tugging at his face, enjoying the modestly built home. For some reason he wasn't expecting something like this; the building however suited Arthur well.

"Your home is very small," Ivan wanted to catch the words mid-air and eat them. Arthur puffed up like a cactus at the accusation, even if it hadn't meant to be one. Ivan panicked internally. This was very difficult. "I am meaning is unexpected!" He fumbled more words, trying to right the wrong. "Is a very small home, but is not bad thing, da? Is very good home, smells sweet like growing things and is very pleasing to the eye. I enjoy it." Russia sighed, his head drooping. He couldn't do this at all. Thinking before you speak is now on the top of his bucket list.

Arthur deflated at the sight of Ivan struggling to put his thoughts into words. He snickered and Ivan's eyes shot to him, frowning greatly. Great, now the smaller nation was laughing at his foolishness. Why was he still here again?

"Ah, thank you…" The Brit opened the gate and gestured for the large nation to enter the grassy area. Ivan clutched his flower close and walked through what seemed like a barrier. One second he was outside looking into something beautiful and the next he was walking through grass and trees and flowers. Dragonflies filled the air, dancing with butterflies and filling the air with the sounds of life. The stone house welcomed Ivan as if he were being embraced by a long lost grandmother of sorts and he felt contentment fill his being.

Arthur seemed to sense this change in Ivan's mood and he let his smile soften, letting his home affect him in a similar way. Russia made note of how calm everything seemed in this light, enjoying the peace. He glanced around the home, taking in everything he could from the front door, Arthur disappearing behind one of the walls after removing his shoes. A shout was heard from the kitchen.

"Ivan, are you hungry or thirsty at all?" Russia blinked, still getting used to being openly called Ivan and not his country's name. He supposed it was rather warm outside as his throat clenched together painfully. He still stood awkwardly by the door, shouting back to the other man.

"Er… Da; is very hot outside. I am thinking a drink is preferred." He played with the leaves on his sunflower, sniffing at it once more. He really did enjoy the smell…

Arthur's face came into view around the corner. His brows furrowed together and a concentrated frown on his face. Ivan stiffened under the gaze, had he done something wrong?

"Unfortunately all I have at the moment is cold tea, milk, or water. Do any of those sound good to you?" Sound good? Oh, if one was better than the other. Ivan nodded, edging his face up and over the scarf.

"Da, cold tea is fine." Ivan saw England nod and he disappeared back into the kitchen. He decided to remove his boots and step inside, glancing around and taking in the inside of England's home. Despite it being like a fairy tale outside, the inside of the house was particularly modern. One hallway reached towards two black doors, along shaded green walls. A couch positioned itself in the center of the front room, black table sitting in front of it. Unlike most homes however, there wasn't a television in the main area. Instead, there were bookshelves filled to the brim of several different genres. Ivan could only read a few of the titles before the smaller man came back into the front room, carrying two glasses of a light brown liquid.

"Spasibo, England." Ivan gratefully took the beverage from Arthur and sipped at it, the bitter substance quenching his thirst nicely. He cleared his throat and took another drink. Cold tea was easily palatable, he decided. Arthur seemed to watch him carefully before nodding to himself and walking away. Ivan raised his eyebrow at the other, setting his now empty glass down on the table in front of him.

England seemed to fidget for a second before glancing down at himself and shaking his head. He walked over to the black door to the right and paused. He seemed to hesitate before smiling to himself.

"I'm going to change into something less… dressy, so that I can work in the garden. Will you be alright by yourself out here for a minute?" He sent a questioning gaze towards Ivan, whom stood there and stared for a moment. He huffed and shuffled his feet, looking down on himself. Was he too dressed to work in a garden as well?

"Ah… I do not…" He felt himself stutter again. Why couldn't he form coherent words!? "I will wait for you, da?"

"Alright…" Arthur paused for a moment, Ivan's mouth forming a straight line while he was being pondered at. Maybe he was dressed too strangely…

"Feel free to take some of that off; you'll get too warm out there in all that." And with that, the man disappeared behind the portal of black oak wood. Ivan felt his face heat up at the man's statement. Arthur wanted him to take off his outer layer of clothing; that much was obvious. Arthur cared that he would get too warm working in the sun; that much was unsettling.

But the fact that Arthur wanted him to undress at all was simply too foreign, too different, too odd. He never took off his clothes unless he was about to go to sleep. They were like a permanent protection from everything that was harmful.

"Take… Take off?" Ivan mumbled under his breath, bracing himself before reaching for the clasp on his coat. Should he really be so trusting of England, no should he trust Arthur this much? He sighed and realized he already did, since he was even considering shedding his cloak. "Alright…"

Ivan undid the clasp on his coat with trembling fingers, biting his lips so hard that they might've bruised. Whether they did or didn't he wasn't sure, but the coat fell to the floor with a flopping sound, his ragged breathing and shivers filling his mind. He felt so bare, standing there in just an undershirt, the air suddenly harshly chilly.

"What am I doing…?" He left his scarf untouched, the pipe he so desperately searched for laying inside his coat, which was now on the floor. His coat was on the floor, not on his body. He was exposed, he was defenseless he was…

He was panicking.

Russia was about to snatch the coat off the floor before he heard the door open, Arthur walking out and seeing Ivan half bent over, scooping the coat off the floor. A pleased chuckle escaped the man's throat and the taller male felt instantly less self-conscious. This was Arthur. He had greeted him kindly, took him to a florist and bought him sunflowers. He had invited him over to his home; had even left Ivan to his own devices for a while whilst he was inside said home. He trusted Ivan, so why shouldn't Ivan trust Arthur in return?

He found himself folding his coat and gently laying it on the side of the couch, pipe leaned against the back of it. The tank Ivan wore was white and the scarf tickled the suddenly bare flesh of his arms, but other than that, he felt fine. What wonders friendship did for the soul.

Arthur snatched up both of the tea glasses, heading into the kitchen and filling them again. He walked by, his rose seeds secured under his arms. He looked happier than Ivan had seen him since way back when. He felt a small tug at his lips as they eased into a tiny smile.

"Got your seeds?" Russia nodded, holding up the seed packets from his pocket, his grown sunflower he laid beside his pipe. It was an odd contrast. "Alright, follow me." England walked calmly out a back door, which had been hidden behind curtains.

Ivan followed suit, the sun blinding him momentarily. He felt the cool breeze caress his skin and he shivered at the sensation. Rubbing his eyes, he heard Arthur halt and did so himself, blinking rapidly to get the small stars to remove themselves from his vision.

What he saw took his breath away.

The fenced area in front was nothing compared to what it surrounded in the back. Rows upon rows of flowers bloomed brightly; purples, blues, whites, reds, every color of the spectrum graced themselves amongst dark green leaves and vines. The dragonflies and butterflies from earlier dotted colors amongst the plants, giving the garden a sense of movement. Everything was alive, vibrant, and enchanting. Ivan felt his heart beat painfully at the sight. This was true paradise.

"England…" Russia felt his voice broke the spell of beauty that was cast on this place, but the man gave him his full attention. "Your garden is zamechatel'nyy… It is wonderful, da?" He felt that small smile grace his features once more. When had he stopped having to force the smile upon his face?

Probably when Arthur had let his face start to turn that interesting shade of crimson; the man ducked his head in embarrassment, smiling to Ivan brightly and bashfully. He let his feet scuff the ground, eyes the color of growing things turning to his work of art. His gaze softened as he watched his garden move as if it were dancing.

"Thank you very much, Ivan… it is my pride and joy after all…" With that the man walked over to an area and began to pull up smaller, less vibrant plants from the ground. Ivan watched with confusion, before England began to speak again.

"These are weeds, they don't belong here, they'll kill everything else here." He gestured over to the rest of the garden specifically the yellow and pink lilies next to him. Ivan nodded, grimly remembering himself being compared to a weed by America once or twice. "This is also where we'll plant your sunflowers. Is that alright?"

Russia forgot his dark thoughts and felt his hands shake with excitement. He was going to create life, he was going to contribute to the world, and he was going to do this with Arthur. He knelt close to the ground when the other male gestured for him to. He rolled his scarf up and tucked it in the back of his shirt, trying to not get it dirty.

"What do I do to help?" He glanced over to England, watching with fascination as he ruthlessly tore up the weeds with practiced ease. He nearly chuckled, seeing the focused look on his face was something he was used to. He always wore this face when he spoke with Alfred. Ivan briefly wondered if Arthur saw the other blonde nation as one of these weeds. The thought pleased him childishly.

Though, he was confused when the man sat back and crossed his arms.

"You can do it, I'll simply guide you. Alright… first, you'll dig a small hole here." England produced a small green spade and handed it to Ivan's still gloved hands. Ivan felt his fingers brush with Arthur's before the object was secured in his grasp, digging gently into the soil with the tool. He blinked and tried to forget the idea of touching the other man again.

"Like this?" Ivan showed him the shallow wound in the earth, Arthur nodding approvingly. Ivan's eyes widened in happiness; he had achieved something! Arthur then opened one of Ivan's sunflower packets, handing him a small seed.

"Next you'll bury this in the hole, making sure that it's far enough in there, that it'll get air, but won't get scrounged up or accidentally torn from the dirt." Nodding Ivan took the seed and brought it over the hole. He dropped the small life into the ground and was about to scrap dirt over it before he stopped himself. His smile disappeared…

It was almost as if he were burying another deceased comrade. Ivan had given burials to so many nameless men on the battlefield, only for their bodies to get swallowed up inside of the ice and snow. Those men, they had families and people who cared for them… yet they gave their lives to protect his namesake. He shook his head and covered the seed, patting the earth firmly.

These were not burials. This was tucking small children into bed so that they could grow safely and comfortably. This was assuring a good and happy life. This was a good thing, something to be associated with happiness, not sad times.

As he buried more of these little parts of him, a thought occurred. He turned to England with a solemn expression. What were his plants going to do when he had to go back home?

"England… you will take good care of these… yes?" He searched the other's eyes, biting his lip. Arthur seemed taken aback by such an intense gaze, but he answered just as seriously. He placed a hand over his heart.

"Of course I'll take good care of them… I'll make sure they grow to be strong and sturdy plants. I swear by it." Ivan nodded, smile appearing once more. He chuckled, deciding to ignore the small flinch from Arthur.

"Is very strange to me; is like England is caring for some small part of Russia, da? I will trust you with these… I will also visit often; to make sure what you are saying is true." He stood up, wiping his gloves on his pants and taking a watering can offered by Arthur. He spread the water over the bare patch of earth; it was like he was taking care of children… he enjoyed gardening as much as he thought he would.

"Well, thank you for trusting me… and for giving me an enjoyable evening."

What was with his tone of voice? Ivan's chest hurt, his heart fluttering about in its cage. If Ivan wasn't careful, it was going to fall out again. Still, it confused him. Why in the world would it want to jump out to the blonde nation beside him?

"I trust you… though I do not understand many things that have happened this day…" Ivan felt the words came easier than they should have; something like this. He took a deep breath, turning toward the smaller man and watching the sun set over the horizon. The red hue lit everything up like it was on fire, giving the garden a new sort of carnal beauty. Russia's chest hurt even more, causing him to clutch at it.

"What don't you understand?" Arthur seemed puzzled, glancing worriedly at the way Russia held his chest. The taller nation furrowed his brows and bit his lip, their eyes locking as England waited for an answer.

"I do not know why my heart tries to get to you. And I do not want to leave."