My Oh My!
Chapter Four
"My, that's quite terrible… There's so much blood," said Ivan conversationally.
"Mnghh," Arthur made a weird, muffled noise in reply.
Normally, Arthur was a stickler for proper grammar and, as he liked to call it, correct English. As such, the exasperated Brit was constantly berating Alfred for his god-awful speaking habits; "What do you mean, 'we don't gotta'?" Arthur would reiterate, glaring daggers at the American. "If you insist on butchering the English language with your Americanisms, then at least do it in a way that makes grammatical sense."
In short, it was very, very, very rare for Arthur to speak a single sentence that didn't contain a proper subject and predicate. And if that was rare, hell was more likely to freeze over than Arthur was to speak a single-word sentence that's lonesome, pathetic 'word' wasn't even a real word at all.
And yet, maddeningly, frustratingly, those one-word non-sentences were the only things Arthur could choke out whenever he was around Ivan.
God, forget talking – at that precise moment Arthur was finding it difficult to breathe.
Of course, that may have had something to do with his bloody nose. It was so red, it seemed impossible to think Arthur had ever had a nose at all; rather, the gaudy blood made one think of a giant crater, or some hideous bullet-wound.
Arthur could only thank high heaven (not that he was religious. Any religious thoughts of 'peace on Earth' had all but clean left his mind the day he'd been forced to sit next to Francis during sex education) that he wasn't one to swoon at the sight of blood. That would just be unfair, considering his nervous-reflex blushing reaction, too. To also faint upon glimpsing a mere drop of blood would be enough to cement his reputation as 'the most girly guy ever.'
"Would you like a tissue?" asked Ivan sweetly, gesturing towards the box on his desk.
Shortly following the door-meet-face incident, Arthur had been ushered in Ivan's whitewashed office (whereupon instant vibes of 'creepy', mixed with the odd splashes of panic and terror, were instantly sprung upon the poor boy the second his foot hit the threshold), and proffered a seat.
The seat, like the rest of the office, was white.
Arthur had, upon coming to this realisation, grown quite worried he'd start bleeding on everything, and somehow invoke 'The Wrath of Ivan'.
Blood was so terribly hard to wash out of upholstery.
Honestly, though… Why decorate a room in white, of all colours? It was draining and depressing, and made Arthur think of snowdrifts.
Then again, it matched Ivan's nature perfectly.
His office was a stunning example of 'art imitating life'.
"T-thank you," Arthur stuttered, reaching for a white (ha. Of course) tissue. He held it to his nose, feeling somewhat grateful.
That is, until Ivan said; "Of course, I expect something in return…"
Arthur froze.
At the speed of light, his mind began reeling off numerous possibilities (although, with a guy like Ivan, it was hard to know what he'd say). His request could've been anything from 'please get out, I'm sick of the sight of you' or even 'do everyone a favour and kill yourself; death is only way to true happiness~'
Oh damn, now Arthur was creeping himself out.
At the stony look of petrified terror on Arthur's face, Ivan began to laugh – or, should we say, giggle. Whatever it was, the childish noise was enough to make the dead roll over in their graves
"I don't want to think about what you're imaging," said Ivan pleasantly (and his voice was sunny and happy and lovely and wrong), "but I'm not going to ask for anything bad… Honestly, what would I want with a tiny, useless child like yourself, da? Haha~ How ridiculous…"
Suddenly, unwittingly, Arthur's malfunctioning brain dredged up those terrible, degrading 'comics' under Elizaverta's bed (had Elizaverta been privy to that thought, she would've slapped Arthur over the back of his head with her frying pan and screamed 'PRICELESS WORKS OF ART! NOT 'TERRIBLE COMICS'!' It was a good job not hide nor hair of Elizaverta could be found in Ivan's office; between her ill temper and Ivan's general… Ivan-ness… Arthur would probably have staked himself through the chest with a pencil after five seconds).
Hahaha. 'What would I want with you?', indeed.
Arthur squirmed in his chair.
"Anyway~" sang Ivan, jabbing his index finger in the air. It hovered somewhere between Arthur's eyes. "Do you remember that young girl you saw? Blonde hair, blue eyes…?"
A nod.
"You know her?"
"Not personally." Arthur's voice sounded horribly nasally, due to the tissue pressed against it. However, Arthur was secretly quite thankful he'd managed to say two real words in the correct order to care how stupid his voice sounded.
"Hmn. I should hope not." A frown. Ivan's face had darkened considerably, until he looked quite demonic. "Considering she's my sister. And if anybody harms her, they will be very, very sorry indeed…" During this terrifying exchange, Ivan's voice had grown steadily deeper, and he began to lean across the table.
Arthur shifted back uneasily.
"Um…"
All of a sudden, Ivan seemed to catch hold of himself. He blinked. With another light-hearted giggle, he leant back in his chair.
"I'm sorry~" he said, smiling. "I don't know what came over me. Maybe it's the heat. It's hot this time of year, da?"
Arthur was shivering; be it from the glacial interior of Ivan's office, or the glacial presence of the man himself. But he thought it best to agree with him. It was common sense not to question anyone who could decapitate you with their bare hands, and Arthur wasn't a fool.
"Um, I suppose so?"
"I thought so too. But, I'm going off subject!"
"…Yes?" Arthur prompted. He was trying very hard to keep the tremor out of his voice. Such things were not manly – instead, they were terribly embarrassing.
Although, on the bright side, Arthur thought, if I can talk to this guy without stuttering, then dealing with Alfred should be a walk in the park.
…That is, if I live to ever see Alfred again. Which is beginning to look less and less likely.
"Katerina came to see me. She's rather upset… You see, I have been very busy lately, due to a young girl who attends this school," said Ivan, casting his eyes to the ceiling. He looked pensive; lost in thought. "She comes here for my, ah… How should I put this…? Advice. A little like you. People consider her 'mentally unstable', as she is prone to fits of temper and rather violent actions."
"My… She sounds simply delightful." Arthur couldn't help the twinge of sarcasm that tainted his words. He couldn't help his initial distaste, either, at being (loosely) compared to this violent, unstable, 'insane' girl.
"Mmn. She is, rather. I suppose." Ivan shrugged, impervious to the Brit's scathing words. "But I don't think she's quite that bad. I think she's lonely. You follow, da?"
Arthur nodded mutely. To be perfectly honest, he hadn't the foggiest idea where Ivan was going with this. His nose still hurt, and his nerves were on edge, and he really, really wanted to go home.
But he dared not move.
"So I began to think," Ivan continued, "maybe she needs someone to talk to? Somebody her own age? I mean, it gets rather frustrating dealing with her every single day, because the other teachers don't know what to do with her. And having to talk to her every single day – it makes me sister upset. She thinks I'll get… Hmn. Stressed. About it. The girl, I mean. Haha." It was a mirthless laugh.
Arthur began picking imaginary lint of his neatly-pressed school trousers. All the while, his eyes remained fixed on Ivan, trying to look interested. The Russian man seemed to be rather agitated, for some unknown reason; once more, his words were becoming harsh and bitter.
"I was fretting and fretting over what to do with this poor soul, because my advice is not making any impact. She remains as… as impossible as ever!"
It was the first time Arthur had heard Ivan speaking with such distress. Could it be, he was genuinely concerned over the welfare of this 'mystery girl X'?
But… no! Surely not.
That would completely distort Arthur's vision of the scary man.
It would be like Francis deciding to pursue a career as a celibate vicar.
Or (even more shocking, still) Alfred not being a self-obsessed, immature git for more than five seconds, and not for a bet.
"So... Arthur."
The Arthur in question gulped.
"I decided that you should befriend this girl! Then, she will have somebody to talk to; because Katerina is becoming worried about my health and, to be absolutely honest, I'm sick of seeing that problematic girl's face every day! She's upsetting Katerina, and it's making me angry."
"…"
That outburst left Arthur in stunned silence. His eyes widened in surprise, pupils dilating; spots of tar in a vast pool of milky white. Meanwhile, his face had turned pale, like that of chalk. It was quite the striking look- almost as though he were a corpse.
Thoughts clustered Arthur's head, a giant cacophony of noise which could not pass his lips (they were pinched tightly shut);
He wants me to do his job for him?
He wants me to talk to this girl?
This violent, mentally-unstable girl?
This girl, who might, according to Ivan's vague description, cut off my arms with a hatchet and stick them upright in flowerpots, in her garden?
This girl that's taking up so much of Ivan's time, it makes his sister worry?And, the worst thought of all;
Is Ivan scared of her???
But Ivan was heedless of Arthur's inner turmoil (most likely because said turmoil was inner; Arthur hadn't done a lot to express it, other than make a few funny faces and hissing noises). Instead, he clapped his hands, and proclaimed happily, genuinely; "This is fantastic! I'm sure you'll like her – somebody in the world must."
Arthur's mouth began to open and close, but no sound came out.
He swallowed, shook his head, and then tried again.
"W-w-what…" Are you doing? Do you mean? Are you resigning me to? "…is her name?"
It wasn't the question Arthur wanted to ask (far from it), but at least it was something.
Ivan beamed.
"Her name is Natalia."
a.n: OMG O: I kind of got a plot sorted out! Hahaha XD Oh, and this chapter was soooo much fun to write~ I really got back into the 'groove' XD I'm glad I didn't delete this story, now~ Shalala~ I only read it through quickly, so I may not have caught all my mistakes. I'm sure there's a lot O///O I hope you don't think this story is too boring? It's just a lot of talktalktalk XD;; And Arthur is not doing much OX I want to keep them IC, but I think Arthur would naturally be afraid of Ivan? He needs more time to adjust to his creepy? C:
Read, review, relax
Reiimuu~