America’s knees bump to his, and it’s too close but America had never respected personal space, did he? Russia ignores the discomfort, wishes for a cigarette. But he's in America's home, and it would be rude to ask to smoke in the room, especially considering America's sensitivity concerning smoking.
Canada’s voice seeps through the air, like a honeyed glaze. He tries to make some sort of conversation, but Russia, is his distraction, doesn't quite catch the question.
And America is still too close, saying and asking things that blur in Russia’s mind. He looks up at America to play pretend, like the words are registering. America’s eyes look him up and down, and he feels a shiver pass through his lungs.
In the end, he decides to fasten his gaze to America’s lips, being traced by a wet tongue.
It isn’t until the words sharpen and threaten that his senses return.
“You don’t give a shit about anything I’m saying, do you?” America says, and his knee jerks toward, nudging Russia unkindly. Russia fakes his usual smile (meant for civil intimidation), and makes to respond, to explain that he isn’t feeling well—and maybe leave out the fact that America surrounding him and giving him little space makes him shiver—but he only gets out a broken syllable, stopping when America slaps him, wide palm like needles against his cheek.
He doesn’t allow the shock to settle. He rises from his seat, hand shaking against the armchair. He manages to say, “I think I should leave,” because that’s nice and better than lashing out, isn’t it? He’s certainly been hurt worse before, and America probably expects a severe reaction, might be trying to trick him into violence.
America’s hand curls around his arm before he moves, and the squeeze he gives is tight and unbelievably strong. He’d forgotten that America is that strong.
“No, you should stay,” America says, voice curling with a disgust that makes Russia flinch back. “Sit down, Russia. Now.”
“It’s all right, Russia,” a soft voice adds, and Russia jerks at the reminder that Canada is there, with him and America. “Sit down, please? There’s no need to cause any trouble.”
Russia looks over, and Canada is biting his lip, brow furrowing in concern. Russia exhales softly, a bit of tension smoothing out in his shoulders. America could be brash and unpredictable at times, but he wouldn't hurt him too badly, not with Canada there.
His limbs soften, and America easily pushes him down, until his body is cushioned against the couch.
~~~
I hope to have much more lengthy updates in the future, ha. Feel free to let me know how the story is looking so far, and how the characterization is working! It's a bit of a challenge for me to make America and Canada so cruel (or in Canada's case, cruelty by deceitfulness), especially since it's something they've obviously thought out together. Although, I suppose having each other's support in it is egging them on. Oh, boys. DDD:
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(1a/5)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-07 07:03 am (UTC)(link)Canada’s voice seeps through the air, like a honeyed glaze. He tries to make some sort of conversation, but Russia, is his distraction, doesn't quite catch the question.
And America is still too close, saying and asking things that blur in Russia’s mind. He looks up at America to play pretend, like the words are registering. America’s eyes look him up and down, and he feels a shiver pass through his lungs.
In the end, he decides to fasten his gaze to America’s lips, being traced by a wet tongue.
It isn’t until the words sharpen and threaten that his senses return.
“You don’t give a shit about anything I’m saying, do you?” America says, and his knee jerks toward, nudging Russia unkindly. Russia fakes his usual smile (meant for civil intimidation), and makes to respond, to explain that he isn’t feeling well—and maybe leave out the fact that America surrounding him and giving him little space makes him shiver—but he only gets out a broken syllable, stopping when America slaps him, wide palm like needles against his cheek.
He doesn’t allow the shock to settle. He rises from his seat, hand shaking against the armchair. He manages to say, “I think I should leave,” because that’s nice and better than lashing out, isn’t it? He’s certainly been hurt worse before, and America probably expects a severe reaction, might be trying to trick him into violence.
America’s hand curls around his arm before he moves, and the squeeze he gives is tight and unbelievably strong. He’d forgotten that America is that strong.
“No, you should stay,” America says, voice curling with a disgust that makes Russia flinch back. “Sit down, Russia. Now.”
“It’s all right, Russia,” a soft voice adds, and Russia jerks at the reminder that Canada is there, with him and America. “Sit down, please? There’s no need to cause any trouble.”
Russia looks over, and Canada is biting his lip, brow furrowing in concern. Russia exhales softly, a bit of tension smoothing out in his shoulders. America could be brash and unpredictable at times, but he wouldn't hurt him too badly, not with Canada there.
His limbs soften, and America easily pushes him down, until his body is cushioned against the couch.
~~~
I hope to have much more lengthy updates in the future, ha. Feel free to let me know how the story is looking so far, and how the characterization is working! It's a bit of a challenge for me to make America and Canada so cruel (or in Canada's case, cruelty by deceitfulness), especially since it's something they've obviously thought out together. Although, I suppose having each other's support in it is egging them on. Oh, boys. DDD:
Re: (1a/5)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-07 08:16 am (UTC)(link)ONWARDS, ANON.
Re: (1a/5)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-07 09:43 am (UTC)(link)Re: (1a/5)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-07 07:12 pm (UTC)(link)Please continue~
Re: (1a/5)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-07 08:54 pm (UTC)(link)Re: (1a/5)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-07 10:55 pm (UTC)(link)OP:
(Anonymous) 2010-09-08 01:57 am (UTC)(link)sThis makes me shiver. So good! Looking forward to the next part!