AN: Hello everybody! Hope you all enjoyed Christmas! And I hope that all your wishes will come true for this new year 2012 that will be full of craziness, happiness, amourness (YAY Frenglish RULES! 8D), good work, good health, good champagne, wine, cheese… chocolate, coffee, tea, milk, sugar, and full of super stuff, hard yaoi on (your favorite website since the year 1000) and lots of other stuff, family, friends, blah blah blah.
Thank you everyone being crazy enough to read that pur délire, giving me 1834 hits and kind reviews ;D Merci, merci merciiii!
By the way, I must mention this fic: Waking up in London by Alix Cohen, for the idea of few stuff about Arthur's house, mainly about the library and the attic. Nice fic too!^^
Enjoy!
Mahé, July the 7th, 1887
That trip to England has been great, but less good for my health.
I caught measles and felt sick after my return.
Even when I was still on the boat, I had felt nauseous and been thinking it was all because the rolling of the boat on the sea. But the next day after we arrived home, it was getting worse and worse. Everything was like spinning all around me and that terrible headache…
When I looked up to the mirror, there was an army of little brown-reddish spots that have shown up on all my face. When Arthur saw me with all these spots, he immediately called for a doctor and told me to stay in my bed because this could become worse and drive me to death if I was not taking a long rest. Fortunately, the doctor said that I would recover without any problem, I just needed a long rest and stay at bed for about two weeks.
Day after day, spots were invading more and more of my skin. First, face and neck, then chest, arms, stomach and back, legs…
Most of the time, my head was hurting so much that I couldn't sleep but when I was getting exhausted enough, the disease let me fall into bizarre nightmares.
In most of them, I was falling forever like in this book I've read in London that told the story of a little girl named Alice who dives into an imaginary world after having followed a white rabbit, and a crowd of voodoos were dancing a wild farandole all around me, chanting along with their shrill, high pinched voices.
Another time, it was about the giant ball room of Buckingham where people were dancing all like one month ago but this time they had no mouth, neither nose, nor eyes. Their faces were perfectly smooth, and none of them was paying attention to me.
But the scariest was the last one I had. I was walking in an old abandoned garden all alone at night and was looking for help. I saw first Miss Emma next to a tree but she turned into a tabby cat and escaped when I approached her. After that, I heard noises from a copse and discovered Alfred and Miss Âliya of India both completely naked, covered with the thick long shiny dark mane of the Indian woman, and kissing passionately. Surprised and terrified at the same time, I ran away into a forest, losing Francis' red ribbons in the branches and losing my shoes. The forest was haunted by the same type of creatures with white bright eyes as I had seen in Arthur's attic. But instead it was Lady Elizabeta, her husband Roderich, Antonio, Gilbert, Natalia, Yekaterina, Feliks, Ludwig, Lovino and others staring at me behind the trees, with their bows, arrows, knives, frying pans, swords, guns, slings, scythes, tomatoes and other various weapons ready in their hands. I ran the fast as I could through the forest until I arrived on an antique paved place under a dark blue ceiling where were hanging innumerable stars and an enormous and round silver moon that was lightening the place with its violent white light. There was a man standing from the back in the middle of the ruins. I approached and felt happy recognizing Francis' long golden locks. I ran to hug his waist tight. He was weirdly taller and stronger than usual. As he didn't react to my hug, I stepped backwards and, slowly, Francis turned his head toward me, his empty blank white eyes meeting mines. It was what I was afraid of. A massive axe appeared in his hands and he held it above my head with the obvious intention to kill me. I escaped and his heavy axe hit violently the floor, breaking the pavement. Then I tried to hide, but soon it appeared that it was useless. He walked slowly toward me once again and I pushed my back on the cold stone behind me, facing the death. The axe's edge was getting closer and closer until something tough hit suddenly my head and I woke up in my bed with Arthur's hand against my forehead, checking my temperature. I had been sick in this bed for almost one week.
"Well, he sighed, it seems that there is no more fever, and your spots have faded. But you must stay at bed for a while again. Maybe Nations like us have a stronger health than other humans but it doesn't mean that you are no more contagious. I think that you don't want to kill all your people, right?
- What about you? I asked, sitting up in my bed. Aren't you afraid of catching my disease?
- I've already caught it. He shrugged. Long time ago. Have rest again, Victoria. He patted his hand on my head. I will be here tomorrow. Have a good night.
- Have a good night too, Mister Kirkland!"
He turned his head back to look at me behind his shoulder. He looked tired but he smiled. It was a real smile, like I have never ever seen on his face since I knew him.
"Thank you, Miss Victoria." He replied before going away.
That was on the first evening that I was cured. But he had insisted on that I would stay at bed for ten days again to recover completely, as the doctor had said.
On the next evening he verified my temperature and my scabs again.
"You've already verified everything. I am not sick anymore. I protested.
- Miss Victoria, didn't I already told you it was mean to talk back to me like this? He coldly reprimanded me. You're quite arrogant these days. Be quiet and nice and obedient, will you? Good."
On the third evening, he awoke me while touching my forehead again. As I noticed his confused look, I guessed that he actually didn't want to awake me. However, I gave him a dark look but didn't say anything.
"Oh, well… Everything is going well. I-I am sorry. I just… wanted to be sure… He was definitely embarrassed and probably didn't know what to say to justify his presence. Right. Good night Miss Victoria." He said quickly before going out of my room, almost running.
On the fourth night, I felt his presence again in the room. But as I was lying on the opposite side, in front of the wall, I couldn't see him and that made me wonder anxiously about what he was doing here in the dark behind my back but I resisted from the temptation to turn my body.
For the next evening, I chose to sleep on the other side, facing the door, and open my eyes slightly. Enough to see but not too much so he could believe I was still slipping. And I was true to think he was probably here as well the previous night. He was simply standing, watching me from the doorframe. He was too far from me so I couldn't see his face in details. He stayed like this for few minutes and then went away.
On the sixth night, he brought a chair, a candle and a book and sat in front of me reading and sometimes watching me, maybe watching me more often than reading though. Until this day, I had thought that he was doing this to check on me because I had been sick, but now I am wondering if the book was just an excuse in the case if I awoke.
On the seventh night, he came again, but there was no book this time. He sat on his chair, closer than the previous night. He stayed like this, simply looking at me, his deep emerald eyes scrutinizing me. Then he approached his right hand and I closed my eyes completely, afraid of that he would notice I was not sleeping. I was expecting he would check my temperature once again but instead I felt his fingers running slowly through my hair, detangling my long locks. I hope he didn't notice I was reddening, embarrassed because this was such intimate. It reminded me about that old time with Francis that he seems to have forgotten into alcohol. I started from this night to feel afraid about what he would do with me night after night while I was supposed to be sleeping. After that, his hand went away from my hair to reach my right hand. He took my hand into his, large and warm, and squeezed it, as if he didn't want it to fly away. When his hand freed mine, I opened my eyes again but he had already gone.
The eighth night was troubling. Maybe because, on the first time of my life, I had the feeling of having heard Arthur, the real one.
"Miss Victoria…
He started awkwardly, sitting on his chair.
- Well, Victoria. He smiled. I-I don't know how to explain what I am doing right now. I've never been good at showing out my feelings. He sighed. People like you, Francis or Alfred are so lucky. They can make friends and be liked by people so easily. They give out the impression that they success in everything. There is neither justice nor equality in this world, as you maybe have felt it sometimes. I don't think I am the worst, but I am definitely not the best one. And will never be. But if I am scolding you sometimes, you must know it is all for your sake. I've never meant to be cruel with you. It is just because I am not comfortable with… feelings.
He paused and had a brief nervous grin.
- Fortunately, you are sleeping and no one is around. If you were hearing this you would think I am ridiculous. And yes, all that speech is perfectly ridiculous.
He paused again, watched me for few minutes and sighed again.
- Excuse me Victoria. I've forgotten what I wanted to say once again. Am I going totally insane? How can I dare watching, and worse, touching a girl like you, while she is sleeping? How can I dare secretly raping your innocence like that, because while I am running my eyes over you I do think about things-
He stopped, making sure I was still sleeping.
- Would you ever forgive the unlucky old pervert that is me?
He looked suddenly so sad and distraught that I was starting thinking about waking up and embracing him to tell him he didn't have to worry for not so much and ask for explanations about all that gibberish because I still don't understand why he was making a fuss about it, but I didn't because I was afraid. I know how unpredictable he can be sometimes.
- My dear Victoria, he continued, if only you knew how shameful I feel. What can I do to refrain me from thinking about- oh, dear Victoria, I am speaking about things you can't even imagine. Who in the world has the right to do that to you?
He paused again for a longer time as if he was expecting me to reply.
- I am a despicable. He whispered. I am disgusting, am I not? After all that I did and I am doing to you, how can you like me? It is just impossible.
He lowered his emerald eyes and stood up hurriedly.
- I-I should go. I do not want to disturb you because I am a sick unconfessed pervert. W-why am I here?
He was shaking all over, alike if someone had caught him doing some forbidden things and sighed when he remembered that we were perfectly alone.
- Please, keep on standing away from me.
He had recovered his usual coldness in his voice, making that sounding more like an order than a pray or a wish. His stressed eyes under his frowned eyebrows were looking at something on the floor that I couldn't see.
- Good night, Miss Victoria."
This is how he ended but the next night was even more troubling. Even scary.
He first sat on his chair like on the previous times and threw his face in his hands, muttering tangled words that I didn't hear. Then he suddenly stood up and started pacing round and round in the room, cursing against himself and sometimes talking with invisible persons and grinning all alone. I thought he had become seriously mad.
On that time, he almost never looked at me and the rare looks he gave me were like burning, like full of something close to hatred, and his mouth was twisting in a grin that was freaking me. I wondered if he had guessed that Alfred and I went in the attic last time and if he hated me then.
I can't explain it but there was like wind in the room, even if I knew that the windows were perfectly closed, a cold wind blowing in my face. I was shivering. And I am pretty sure that I heard Arthur's voice whispering something weird like "ninininininininini". That was so unreal that I have wondered if all that was just nightmares or dreams since the beginning. I felt asleep before I saw him going away.
On the tenth and last night, he came again, for the last time. But I was so troubled, asking so many questions to myself about my safety living in the same house as Arthur, that I felt asleep in the afternoon. And as the weather was really hot, I had removed my sheets, and when I awoke it was too late. Night had shown up and he was already standing in the room in front of me lying on my bed simply wearing a white and light nightdress exposing my bare feet and legs, arms and shoulders, and maybe a quite big part of one of my little breasts.
He looked really embarrassed and first tried to shift his gaze from my nakedness, trying to cover his face back with his severe and steadfast usual look. Ladies must be dressed from the head to the feet, most of all in front of men, I knew it perfectly but what could I do at this moment?
He made next to me, grabbing the sheets to cover my body back but his arm had stopped in its motion. His eyes had started to watch my feet, my fine ankles, and then to climb on my legs.
Something in his emerald gaze had changed, and I noticed a smile growing on his lips while he was watching my curves. It seemed that the real Arthur had come back.
He reddened, hesitated for a while, then left back my sheets, watching me then so intense that I started feeling bad, like if I was trapped, like a disarmed tiny little girl under Arthur's will, Arthur who was then probably making his own opinion about the transparency of my dress.
He let himself falling in his chair, breathing faster and his eyes were brighter than ever. Keeping on staring me, he unbuttoned his pants and slid his right hand to make it meet his part between his parted legs.
Of course, I couldn't help but staying motionless and looking at his hand moving into his pants, his face in bliss, his right hand moving faster, his left hand clinging on tightly to the chair rung preventing him from falling, the silent gasps releasing from his mouth, his legs shaking, his right hand suddenly stopping but still grabbing his parts, and while he gave a weak whine, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, his pants got wet between his legs. The whole thing lasted maybe few minutes, or few hours, I couldn't say.
After that, he stood up, shaking all over, jumped next to my bed and threw the sheets on me, patted briefly my shoulder and ran away.
All my body was shaking as well. I sat up on my bed. He's maybe a pervert, but I am nothing but a voyeur. To go telling him everything that happened, the attic, his brothers, when I was supposed to sleep, is totally out of question. I don't want to make him feeling ill at ease, and most of all I am worrying about the punishment he would give me for being such a bad lady.
When morning came, I woke up, got dressed and went out of my room. I met Arthur in the corridor. The dark rings under his eyes were saying that he probably didn't sleep that night.
He ran his hand against his face and into his blond locks and almost jumped when he finally noticed me.
"Oh, g-good morning, Miss Victoria. He stammered. Did you sleep… well? I nodded. F-fine!
- Is everything okay, Mister Kirkland? I asked artlessly. You don't look well.
- I-I'm fine! He did a forced laughter shaking his hands in a sign that meant that he wanted me to leave him alone. Thank you. Oh, and… by the way, I was thinking about… you've recovered very well! He did a large smile as if he wanted to hide his wobbly voice with it. You are free to go outside!
- Thank you so much, Mister Kirkland!"
I said this avoiding his gaze, afraid of he would find in my eyes that I knew what I was not supposed to know before running on this beach that I've missed so much.
Arthur never showed up in my room again at night since I've chosen to lock the door so I would sleep soundly. And he has never said anything about it yet. It is maybe better like this.
AN: Hehe, with the beginning of this New Year, the big UK/Seychelles part is starting! 8D And it might last a looong time so if you were getting mad because I was having fun making you waiting, there it is!
For the ones who are still a bit naive, have never been to England or France, and are thinking while watching Hetalia that French guys are the worst perverts on Earth, I can tell you are just mistaken! ;) I have been to England, and I can swear that the guys I've met were actually the most pervert guys I have ever met (hum. I am not here to speak about my life, and anyway Hetalia (and some fics by some crazy people) has already summed up what it looked like. No kidding. And you, rosbif guy behind the computer (oui, toi!), don't try to deny because it is useless xD Lol.) French guys are just petits joueurs that are only making profits from their more or less good/bad worldwide reputation built on myths that are not all true buy but keeping on making people talking and buying plane tickets (business is business! I think government should pay French people going in foreign countries for spreading the "myths"… Because it is all part of tourism don't you think? Hey, Frenchies, let's go on strike! ^^)