He grew up in the North, thus chilly biting against one's skin was a familiar feeling; a feeling he embraced. If only he could do the same to her…
"Don't touch me."
Words; cold as an icy morning breeze one day in January, though that didn't bother him.
Hues of dark blue narrows. She raises her knife to threaten the male like she has done countless times before.
That…didn't bother him either.
…
…
…
Norway and Belarus; individuals whose aloofness masks the passion within. The accidental meetings… Long talks… Peaceful walks… It had been nothing more than just a game for her; a way to kill time. Even someone as strong as Ivan needed to catch his breath after those attempted escapes—and of course she, being his generous and caring sister, gave him chances to do exactly that. Who would want to wear out their betrothed before the much awaited wedding? Definitely not her.
Indeed, the Nordic was a nobody… At least he was supposed to be. To the young maiden's exasperation however, something inside her was changing, though she couldn't tell what.
Lately, she found her encounters with the Norwegian annoying and straight-out uncomfortable to the point where she'd feel like cutting his throat open only at the sight of him. Belarus had been a violent damsel since earlier days, but her attitude towards men was at most times impassive. Unless said nation had Russia's attention, she simply did not care.
To actually feel whilst in another guy's presence—frustration, irritation, embarrassment… This was her first time. In addition, she had been thinking less about the Russian and that fact bothered her so tremendously. It's just not right.
The blond male steps forward, his emotionless gaze softening as he once again reaches out for her—as though he's trying to save her from something, she can't help but notice.
"Bela—"
"I said don't touch me!" She repeats, this time louder—and in an attempt to push away, accidentally scrapes her blade against him. Drops of crimson develop from the open wound on his cheek before they trickle down to stain the winter scarf he apparently got from Finland last Christmas. She thinks he'll get mad. She hopes he'll walk away and leave her alone; or so she makes herself believe.
His expression however, remains the same. He doesn't get mad or walk away. The Norwegian takes this chance while she's confused to wrap his arms around her. Her grip on the knife loosens. It's like she wants to kill him for hugging her this way, yet isn't able to.
Annoying. It's annoying, but she can't push the guy from herself—he's too strong.
Or perhaps…she's the one becoming weak..?
"I love Nii-san…" The maiden mutters along with a wish that he'll realize, however his hold tightens even more as slender fingers entwine her soft locks of platinum blond so tenderly.
"I know."
Her eyes widen slightly at the Norwegian's short answer. He knows..? Then why… Why would he do this?
How confusing, Natalya muses, frowning a bit. She hesitates, but ends up burying her face against his chest in defeat. Damn it… No matter how hard she tries, she cannot understand him; cannot stop thinking about him.
It was supposed to be brother, and only brother. It was supposed to…
But… It's not.