*sighs* I'm kind of nervous as to what is going to happen… Bear with me, ok? *takes a deep breath* Here goes nothing…
Disclaimer: As always.
13
If she wouldn't know any better, she would think the redness of her face and the heat her whole body emitted was the doing of the brandy. In a different situation she would even feel ready to give this explanation, but not now, lying on top of Arthur.
No, no she… she'll have to stop thinking about it so much… But how, when she felt his racing heartbeat, his temperature, even his short breaths (thanks to their mouths being too close)? Plus a part of her mind kept on telling her off- it's not like they haven't even kissed yet or they were at the first date…
No, technically, they were: they only found out about each other's feelings after the concert, and it's the first time they met privately ever since then.
That didn't change the fact that she felt she would kiss him any minute, and they would end up in her bedroom shortly after… Oh no, she just had to imagine it, hadn't she?! Her face now had the expression of someone nearly passing out in a hot bath.
She opened her eyes (which she kept closed in shame) and the first thing she saw was a pair of green orbs, slightly hazed over.
'S-Sorry…' She managed to mutter at long last, breaking the silence, and tried to back away and stand up. Hardly did she make one move, though, when she felt dizziness getting hold of her, which meant they are both better off if she stays. Unless she rolls off of him… But did she really want to leave?
She mentally screamed at herself. Of course she did! It was practically the first date, and she was tipsy, and… and she was uncertain. Not about her feelings, mind you: her being tipsy made her being afraid of regretting or not remembering the followings (of whatever nature they may be) later, plus they were chatting along well, and if what she thought (and secretly hoped) would come, she was afraid that everything before would lose its importance.
'N-no need to be…' came the equally quiet answer, the air tickling her face and partly getting into her mouth. That couple of millimeters that divided their lips were more and more annoying and tempting to be vanished. It would be so easy; she would hardly have to move her head… and Arthur might do the same, now she was thinking about it.
Suddenly, she felt his arms moving, more precisely, one embracing her, the other hand gently touching her face, as if asking for permission or not being able to hold back. That simple movement was enough to break the ice and wash all the thoughts of "common sense" away- they were kissing while he sat up, thus causing her to kneel, hands buried in each other's hair or caressing the other's face or fingers entangling. It somehow all came so naturally, that Elizaveta didn't even think of resisting or wondering when he began to fumble with her garments (instead, she tried to keep her slightly shaking hands still to unbutton his shirt). Not that she thought much, mind you: nothing mattered but their movements and the reactions they induced. As they shook when the other found a sensitive spot, or the way their overheated and soon sweating skin touched.
They didn't remember how or why they got up from the floor and into one of the rooms, but they did. The coolness of the bedclothes met mixed reception: they were happy for it, for they felt unbearably hot, and at the same time, irritated by and indifferent to it. They didn't care about this slight inconvenience which was more tan easy to compensate in this situation.
Hour later, as she woke up with a slight headache, Elizaveta still felt Arthur's arms wrapped around her, not moving an inch since they fell asleep. It was already dark, but she didn't mind it much- it was comfortable where she was, apart from the migraine and the slight nausea which was caused by the drinks. She thought of searching for something against hangover, or simply something light to eat, something that would stay in her stomach, then changed her mind: getting out of the bed could wake him up. She moved her head a bit to face him, and although something inside told her she shouldn't stare (for the same reason why she shouldn't get up), she couldn't help but follow his sleeping features with her eyes. He looked much calmer, of course, the usual frown giving place to a relaxed expression, his lips only slightly parted. It made him look younger, more helpless, and more vulnerable. But of course, sleep does that to everyone. She could experience it when she went to check if little Italy had fallen asleep already, or if Greece slept well… on one occasion, she even saw Ivan taking a short nap in his office when he visited Budapest once, it was perhaps the most apparent at his case: he was positively transformed back to an innocent and sweet child, if you didn't consider the long arms and the coat.
A soft groan and Arthur's eyes were opened before she could do anything.
'Hello…' he murmured sleepily. So he has been awake enough to notice it was dark.
'Hello to you too. Shall I bring something?' she asked in a low voice.
'Yes… A glass of water and a sandwich would be welcome…' and he tried to move his arm. It didn't go easily, and not (only) because he didn't want to let her go: the limb had been still asleep, due to the long time it spent in the same position. When she was finally in the kitchen, buttering the bread and laying salami and cheese on it, did she begin to register what had happened. With that realization came next the question: how are they going to tell others, especially their bosses? Should they openly admit seeing each other at all? Not that she would want to discuss her love-life with any of them, but they would find it out, eventually. She sighed and put the meal for two upon a tray to take it back to the room. England had been waiting for her, sitting. They ate the sandwiches in silence.
'What now? Should we still keep it in secret?' she asked as he lowered his empty glass.
'W-well… we might tell it as well. It would be simpler, I guess, than trying to pretend… At least to the other nations.'
'What about our bosses?'
He hung his head, his ears blushing a little.
'I don't think it's their business…' he muttered at long last.
'Well, it isn't, but they'll find out anyway. And in that case, I think we'll be better off if we don't keep secrets.' The idyllic moment was gone, and, feeling guilty of that, she wanted to do something about it, to bring it back. Suddenly she had an idea. She quickly stood up and began to look for clothes and get dressed. Arthur blinked, confused.
'Come on! We're going to a little night-walk.'
He got dressed as well, and so they departed- a part of the trip was done by tram and bus, and the latter one on foot- the destination she had in mind, the Citadel, was a slightly tricky spot. In about an hour, they stood up there, under the statue of a woman holding a palm leaf, in the strangely moderate temperature (for a windless late-winter night, that is), leaning on the balustrade and enjoying the view which made this place a very popular sight. The city lights reflected in the Danube and surrounded them; far enough to be only thought of as billions of fireflies easily told from the stars, and even the sounds of cars and other means of traffic seemed to avoid the pair. For a while, they were standing there silently.
'I've never been up here…' he muttered. 'I went to several sites in this city, but… not up here.' It was true to other nations as well: They saw some of each other's sights on the capitals (depending on the importance or influence of the host), but of course they couldn't cover everything. Elizaveta kept this place mostly for herself and came here alone; it seemed to bear only with solitude. This time was special.
'It's even better by daylight…' she smiled, pointing forwards, signaling that she meant the view. 'And rest assured… that's the first time I came here at night.' she turned to him, then to the sky.
They held a small contest of 'who knows more constellations and legends'. The constellation-part was won of course by Arthur (once being a pirate, he knew the stars as the back of his hand), but the bit with the legends was a tie.
There came a wind, right into their face, ruffling their hair, and giving them shivers. 'I think we should head back…' she said, the cold bringing out her sleepy side. He nodded, and so they began to return to her home. They were quite tired by the time they got there, but cold as well, so as soon as they were inside, she made tea. They didn't talk much, somehow, although they felt they would have things to discuss. For example, how and to whom they should tell about their relationship. It's true, though, that this question can be considered as one to be solved individually. And it would ruin the moment. This was something they should bring up only the next morning. It belonged there. She would've proposed going on with the getting-to-know-chat that they had earlier, but she felt strangely tired all of a sudden, so they went to sleep.
She was already making scrambled eggs by the time he arrived in the kitchen the next morning. The breakfast had been consumed in silence, but after that, she felt like she had to say something. Anything. And she wondered, how can that be possible. They were supposed to be close to each other, so where and how did they (or one of them) make a mistake? Silence should not be like this, not between them.
'Do… do you have anything you'd like to do while here? I mean… going somewhere, or… I don't know…'
'Well… I didn't really think about it, to tell the truth… Maybe… you remember when I watched your bookshelf?'
'Good idea! Let's go!'
Soon enough, they stood in the living room, in front of the bookshelf, Elizaveta watching the frowning Arthur. After some minutes, he touched one of the many volumes, hesitantly, but taking it none the less, and turning towards her. He tried to maintain a casual face, but you could tell he was unnerved by the fact that he didn't understand the titles. She took the book, looking at it in surprise. There was no way he didn't recognize that cover… Maybe that's why he was reddening?
'The Lord of the Rings? Are you sure? I mean… I only have the translated version here, and you know what Feli says about translating and lying…'
'Come on, I have faith in you and your people when it comes to translating. Especially after the musicals of Andrew…' he smiled, calming Elizaveta. They both sat down, she began to translate, although with some stops when she was looking for the perfect word, and slowly, the unfurling story about the Fellowship of the Ring enchanted them. Aragorn and his company arrived in Rohan, Meduseld, to find a weak Théoden, quickly healed by Gandalf, then planning to go to the safest stronghold of the country: Helm's Deep. Hungary closed the book here, thinking that this was enough from one book. Plus it occurred to her only now that she didn't know how long Arthur planned on staying- she cursed her own head off for that. What if he had an important meeting?
'H-how many time do you have left?' She asked, saddened and ashamed. He looked at his wristwatch, then said it was four hours till departure. They got up, he quickly packed, and she saw her off at the airport. When they hugged each other, he whispered he was sorry for the short visits, but she felt he himself knew they couldn't do a single thing about it. Their routines and nearly their whole life were dictated by the policies of their bosses. She hated them and the fact that she was born a country for that. It would be so much easier if they could be mortals…
That reminds her… She heard Arthur still practiced his magic. What if there was a solution, after all?
AN
So… I got over my first sorry attempt of slight lemon… And no, I didn't forget about Elizaveta's offer at translating, as you might see^^
Yes, I love Lord of the Rings, and would be more than glad to read Silmarillion (only read LOTR and Hobbit) as well, but alas, I don't have much time. The bit I was talking about is somewhere at the beginning of "The Two Towers"(Chapter: "The King of the Golden Hall", if I remember right).
There is an Italian saying which means "Translator, liar"- unfortunately, I don't remember how it went in Italian, so I chose to get around it like this. And about Andrew Lloyd Webber… he did say he found the Hungarian translations of his musicals great (and we take our pride in that, lol). Usually, we like to say that our translations of musicals, books, and Disney songs rock, and mostly (allow me to be a bit immodest) they are great, though this tendency seems to decline nowadays. "Respect for the exceptions", as we say.
Sooo… a little survey. Do you think I should allow Arth to turn themselves into mortals, or not? I have the beginning of a scenario in my head for the first case (I won't tell cos I'm an evil author xd), but for the last one… I'll see.
PS: I forgot to give him a tattoo... let's just say it was there but she didn't pay attention xd