He's hollow. Every tick of the clock reminds him of the missing beat in his chest. Everything feels hollow and empty but he knows it's only him, only what he's missing. Poland calls him sometimes, talks like it's the old days and like nothing is wrong, and Lithuania finds more and more that he doesn't care enough to try to argue, just parroting back Poland's cheer.
When Poland falls and the news comes to him, he finds that he doesn't really care about that either.
Some time later, Russia enters - and of course, he doesn't bother with the door, he hasn't once in the time Lithuania has known him. Lithuania just looks up at the larger man with blank eyes, wondering if it is his turn to be invaded. It's something he can adjust to again.
"I brought you a gift, Lithuania," Russia sings, and he pulls an envelope out of his coat. Somehow even before Lithuania opens it he knows what it is, and he is right. Documents to sign, all saying the same thing - Vilnius (Vilnius, not Wilno, how he hated that name) will be his again. All his. (There are other words on the documents too, but he ignores them, pushes them aside.)
"This... but..." Lithuania mumbles, staring at the documents even as he fumbles or a pen.
Russia smiles, forces a pen into his hand before holding the hand itself and guiding it to the signature line. "All yours. As it should be. You should have your heart, yes?"
Lithuania nods feverishly and scribbles his signature onto the page. There's a moment of silence and then -
And then there is warmth and brilliance and all the colors are brighter and his heart beats strong and clear in his chest. Tears well up in his eyes from sheer joy, and he realizes that he had forgotten what that felt like.
"Thank you," he sobs, the tears spilling down his cheeks. In the new bright light Russia looks strong and beautiful and wonderful and he is Lithuania's savior. All the wrongs are forgotten, all the wounds on Lithuania's back ignored, for Russia has restored Lithuania's life to him.
Russia smiles and lifts him to his feet, spinning him in a circle like some sort of dance, and Lithuania laughs through the tears and gratefully spins with him. Everything will be wonderful, he thinks as Russia leads him towards his bedroom. He is warm now, and he is happy, and he can feel, truly feel, and nothing can go wrong in this moment.
He finds himself on his back on the bed. Russia undoes his clothing with practiced, swift motions, and Lithuania helps him, shrugging off the clothing in layers. He will happily give himself to Russia. He can do no less.
Russia straddles him, and the two share an easy, bright smile for a moment - but then Russia's eyes darken, go hard and cold, and he thrusts inside Lithuania without any preparation, any gentleness, any hint of warmth of caring.
Lithuania screams into the night and finds that he now remembers what pain feels like.
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Feelings
(Anonymous) 2009-01-30 09:41 am (UTC)(link)When Poland falls and the news comes to him, he finds that he doesn't really care about that either.
Some time later, Russia enters - and of course, he doesn't bother with the door, he hasn't once in the time Lithuania has known him. Lithuania just looks up at the larger man with blank eyes, wondering if it is his turn to be invaded. It's something he can adjust to again.
"I brought you a gift, Lithuania," Russia sings, and he pulls an envelope out of his coat. Somehow even before Lithuania opens it he knows what it is, and he is right. Documents to sign, all saying the same thing - Vilnius (Vilnius, not Wilno, how he hated that name) will be his again. All his. (There are other words on the documents too, but he ignores them, pushes them aside.)
"This... but..." Lithuania mumbles, staring at the documents even as he fumbles or a pen.
Russia smiles, forces a pen into his hand before holding the hand itself and guiding it to the signature line. "All yours. As it should be. You should have your heart, yes?"
Lithuania nods feverishly and scribbles his signature onto the page. There's a moment of silence and then -
And then there is warmth and brilliance and all the colors are brighter and his heart beats strong and clear in his chest. Tears well up in his eyes from sheer joy, and he realizes that he had forgotten what that felt like.
"Thank you," he sobs, the tears spilling down his cheeks. In the new bright light Russia looks strong and beautiful and wonderful and he is Lithuania's savior. All the wrongs are forgotten, all the wounds on Lithuania's back ignored, for Russia has restored Lithuania's life to him.
Russia smiles and lifts him to his feet, spinning him in a circle like some sort of dance, and Lithuania laughs through the tears and gratefully spins with him. Everything will be wonderful, he thinks as Russia leads him towards his bedroom. He is warm now, and he is happy, and he can feel, truly feel, and nothing can go wrong in this moment.
He finds himself on his back on the bed. Russia undoes his clothing with practiced, swift motions, and Lithuania helps him, shrugging off the clothing in layers. He will happily give himself to Russia. He can do no less.
Russia straddles him, and the two share an easy, bright smile for a moment - but then Russia's eyes darken, go hard and cold, and he thrusts inside Lithuania without any preparation, any gentleness, any hint of warmth of caring.
Lithuania screams into the night and finds that he now remembers what pain feels like.
Re: Feelings
(Anonymous) 2009-01-30 05:13 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Feelings
(Anonymous) 2009-01-31 10:45 am (UTC)(link)