This one is on PruHunAus, enjoy! Rochu is chapter 13.
A scene from this chapter was inspired by a poem by Edgar Allan Poe. Lol, see if you can pick it up. It is kinda obvious.
Austria opened the door to Hungary's new bedroom.
"Here it is," he said, walking the both of them in, "I do hope it is to your liking."
It was a reasonably sized bedroom, one of the bigger ones in the mansion, in fact. If one were to complain about the size, the luxury it contained would surely compensate. A bay window walled a good portion of the room, and was shielded by a wash of velvet drapes that Austria had especially dyed green, Hungary's favourite colour. There was a vanity mirror and desk to the left, on which stood little cases of powder, vials of toilette, a bijoux chest, and other feminine trinkets. A curtained queen sized bed laid on the other side of the room, beside her personal closet. The bed sheets had just been cleaned today, and at least five or six fleecy pillows laid on top of them for decorative purposes.
Hungary, in turn, looked pleased. She dropped her bags onto the carpet, turned around, and hugged Austria, who stumbled back at her enormous strength.
"Thank you so much Roddy!" She said, squeezing his body even tighter, "This is much more than what I could ever ask for."
"You are welcome, Elizaveta," Austria whispered back chokingly, trying to catch his breath. Though, he didn't particularly mind the way in which she chose to display her gratitude.
As she broke apart, he continued, re-adjusting his spectacles. "I have also assigned to you, a maid." He smiled at her calmly, before turning his head to the door, demanding, "Italy!"
A little boy wearing a calico dress and an apron stumbled into the room and dropped to his knees in front of Austria. He didn't look to be over eight in human years, and had short brown hair under the bandanna he wore. His face had sunken in fear, and he could barely lift his eyes to meet his master, desperately trying not to break into tears like he did the last time. "Y-you called, s-sir?" He yelped.
Austria turned to Hungary, who was beginning to look a little concerned, and explained stoutly, "Italy will be tending to all your personal needs in my absence. If there are any problems, don't hesitate to contact me."
"O-Of course, Roderich." Hungary replied.
The little thing looked frail, since he had not eaten in days. But, he wouldn't get to eat until Austria saw improvement in his work ethic. Discipline was discipline, after all.
Austria turned to Hungary and bowed, bidding her goodbye. He strode out the door and walked back to his study.
Hungary sighed in relief, gave a huge yawn, kicked her boots off, and dove straight into her cherub's nest of a bed. Italy, who was still in the room, squeaked at her sudden actions and quickly shuffled over to his new mistress. "Um, Miss Hungary?"
She looked up and saw the little boy, her face flushing in embarrassment. "Oh, sorry, I forgot all about you!" She laughed nervously and put a hand on his skinny shoulder. "Well, sorry that Austria was so mean. I guess I'll go talk to him about it."
Italy, in turn, stood still as a statue, dumbstruck at how nicely this lady was treating him.
"You don't have to be my maid if you don't want to, and just call me Liz, okay?"
"Oh, okay!" Italy immediately dropped all of his previous fear and jumped in joy, glad that he found a new friend.
It was an early morning in November, and after Austria's morning meal, he decided that it was warm enough for a light stroll. He knocked on Hungary's door to see whether she would be interested in accompanying him, but found no answer. He assumed that she was probably still asleep.
Stepping out the door, Austria was greeted by a gust of wind blowing the scent of decaying leaves into his lungs. Unwilling to catch a cold, he bundled a scarf around his neck and put on his cap. Walking out onto his backyard, he saw Italy, who was hanging laundry. He seemed to be in good spirits today, surprisingly, probably because he was chatting with someone instead of working diligently like he should. Scowling, Austria strode over. When Italy saw him coming, he shrieked and immediately ran behind who looked like Hungary.
Hungary bent down to comfort him, and turning around, she waved friendly. "Hey Roderich!"
"Um, pardon me, Elizaveta, but what do you think you are doing?"
She was helping Italy do the chores to which he had been assigned.
She giggled, looking at him patronizingly. "I'm doing laundry, silly."
Austria raised an eyebrow, "Yes, but why?"
She shrugged, hanging another shirt onto the rack, "I figured I have nothing else to do. Earlier, I saw that the house was getting a little dusty, so I was working on that. But now that I am done, I have moved on to... this."
"But Elizaveta, you are a guest..." He tried to explain.
She strode over, and patted him lightly on the chest. "Yes, I know Roderich. But this is to show my gratitude for letting me stay here. And besides, surely you can't expect Italy to do all this work by himself?"
Austria opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by Hungary placing a palm over his mouth. "I insist!" She insisted, pointing her other index finger in accusation.
Austria pursed his lips, "Very well then."
For the rest of the day, Austria swore he could feel a burning on the part of his face that Hungary had touched, and decided that it wasn't due to the lye on her hands.
The snow tapped and scratched against the windowpane like little claws, threatening to maul this centuries-old mansion into bits. It seemed as if the world outside was one huge snow globe given to an angry child to play.
Hungary pushed her hand against the window hopelessly. Though, somehow it felt like she was the one trapped behind a dome of glass.
She looked around her bedroom, at her bed that seemed too cozy to be real, and the closet filled pretty dresses that could never fit her figure comfortably. It felt like everything in the room was too precious, too perfect to be touched by someone like her.
Instead of exploring the rest of her new possessions, she decided to just sit down in front of her desk to read this new novel she had picked up from the library downstairs. It was supposed to be a romance, the kind of romance at which Prussia, as devoutly orthodox as he was, would cringe in disgust.
Giggling delightedly, Hungary wondered why such naughty books would be found in Austria's library.
Prussia...
It had been months since she had last seen him, though he had promised that he would visit. But, she supposed it was a good thing that he didn't visit anyways, as there was no telling what kind of trouble he would cause on Austria's turf. She knew that he was not too happy about her living with Austria. But, there was nothing else she could do. She had to go to him.
She only hoped that Prussia wouldn't hold a grudge against her, like the kind he had when they were little.
Prussia Prussia Prussia... He was all she could think about for the past few days.
She looked out the window wearily. It was getting really late now, and the snow had still not stopped falling. She entertained herself with the fantasy that Prussia would barge in through the window, all smirking and handsome. He would sweep her off her feet and dash them into the snow, so they could disappear forever. Instead, all she saw was a rather peculiar raven perched on the tree beside her window, dusting off the shards of snow that had begun to collect under its feathers. Hungary was tired, and decided to not amuse herself with why this god-damned bird had not migrated south. Instead, she returned to her boring book that she was no longer reading. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake...
Tap tap tap.
She shot up from her nap in surprise, and turned to where she believed was the source of the damned noise.
Her jaw dropped.
Prussia was crouching on the windowsill outside (God knew how he got up there), and was waving at her excitedly. He was wearing a black cloak which blended so well with the night air that if it were not for his skin's uncanny glow, she would not have seen him.
Her heart began pounding wildly, as she dashed to her window to let her lover in, trying to convince herself that he was not a hallucination. Without warning, he tackled her into an embrace before she had the chance to close the window, even before his own feet hit the ground. She tried to speak, but was forced into silence as he assaulted her with kisses. His tongue dove into the cavern of her mouth, almost making her choke from the sudden attack. She at first struggled against his tight, almost suffocating hold, but soon began to return his ferocity, dousing fire with more fire. She moaned against his hot breath, trying to bite his rebellious tongue. He grunted in pain as he felt her teeth clamp down. In revenge, he launched himself back at her and dared to afflict even more savagery into her mouth, upon her neck, as her busty body squirmed underneath him in pain, or perhaps pleasure.
Hungary had been slammed onto her bed with Prussia's knees pinching her hips, their lips still locked in a contest of who could last the longest. Hungary eventually lost that battle, as she pushed Prussia's face away so she could pump air into her deprived lungs. Still panting and heaving, she cupped his cheek. "I missed you, Gil," she managed to cough out.
He grinned mischievously, "I know you did." He took a couple of her fingers into his mouth and swirled his tongue against them.
She giggled, before pulling her fingers out and slapping him in the face playfully. He, in turn took it as permission to dive back into ravaging, nibbling, pulling, biting every part of her that he could find. Though he hadn't gotten to say it out loud, he missed her too. So much. So damn much.
Clothing was no obstruction, as he clawed her dress open with one try and tossed the rag onto the ground. It was a nice dress, fit beautifully on her body, but what was under it was even nicer. She, in turn, reached her hand up to fumble open the buttons of his shirt, tearing off his pants, and casted his clothes onto the ground as well. In a matter of seconds, they were completely naked, their hot, ragged breaths in sync with each other.
"I love you, I love you, I love you..."
That was all Hungary could hear Prussia say, as he explored every inch of her, with every inch of him. Each declaration differed from its predecessor, as he would spit some out angrily, like he was threatening her to love him back, while others sounded desperate, as if he was begging on his knees.
Every kiss, every bite, every thrust, it felt as if he had the whole blueprint of her body memorized. He knew exactly what to do to make her whimper, moan, scream in pleasure, as she clutched him tightly, with all four of her limbs, never wanting to let him go.
"I love you," he mumbled against her mouth, tenderly brushing the long, wavy locks that he had always admired.
This one sounded sincere, and she liked it the most.
"I love you too," she whispered back, laying his head down against the crook of her neck, feeling his breaths against her sweaty skin.
They just laid there, without saying a word for each other. The fire that had once enshrouded them both had dwindled into thin air, leaving small, undulating ribbons of warmth in its place. A hush of cold air blew from the open window and showered snowflakes onto their naked forms. The first rays of twilight were beginning to peek through the window as well, illuminating all that they had striven to keep secret all this time. She cursed them, the lights flooding in the horizon that were only God's cruel joke to them. Hungary was still holding onto Prussia as much as her lethargic limbs would let her, so he wouldn't leave her to face another new day, alone.
Hungary felt sleep beginning to overtake her. Her eyelids couldn't seem to stay open, no matter how hard she tried. Her breaths were becoming more lazy, and her arms have loosened their hold. But she didn't want to lose her consciousness right now, not when he was here.
"Just sleep," Prussia murmured against her neck, drawing circles on the soft, cream-coloured plane of her chest, "I'll be here, as long as you are dreaming."
Woot!
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