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HAPPY VALENTINES DAY ZORKKKK ~~~ ♥
063. Mischievous
Stolen kisses;
in the heat of the afternoon and the butterbright peace of laying in the hammock during siesta, he turns over and sneaks one on the other's smooth cool cheek, because he's fast asleep and will never know the difference;
cooking dinner, aromas rich and warm, like cats curling around their legs, Lovino is surrounded by what he knows and what comforts him, food; Spain dances up and laughs in his sunny way, sneaks another (like stealing candy before dinner, ruining his appetite), behind his ear, on his shoulder, any smooth canvas free for painting beautiful, with love;
when Lovino was little and liked to climb and settle himself in between Spain's shoulderblades (sharp, like wings trying to grow straight from the tanned skin, an angel from the scars), grab his curls with his tiny chubby fingers, pull hard, and kick him; Spain would roll over and catch him, laughing, kiss his forehead and ask what he wanted for lunch;
even when Lovino is reading, hair drifting over his forehead and into his eyes; when he is doing paperwork, on the rare occasions he does, or painting, drawing, what-have-him; Spain might sneak up and admire, then go in for his prize;
and of course in those pockets of passion, bent over Lovino, he is free to take as he pleases, but there is no cheerful innocent thief's laugh here; he is all heavy breathing, tongue lit with love, doing what he does (more or less) best, they are heartbeat to heartbeat;
Spain isn't smart enough to be a thief, but he's got stealing kisses nailed down to an art.
047. Grumpy
Once upon a time, there was a disgruntled half-nation named Nico. Now, because he lived in a world in which most were named things like Italy or Australia or Yemen, he felt very out of place. He would have been a good, kind, cheerful person, had it not been for his terrible misnomer, but his parents were also wise old people; they made him go by Nico, so Nico he went by. It made him terribly out-of-sorts to be named such a strange thing, though, so whenever someone talked to him he was very snappy, and not in a good or funny or entertaining way.
One day the disgruntled half-nation named Nico was walking, when someone, not looking where they were going, bumped into him. It was raining and the person was carrying an umbrella, in the impact moving it so that the icy water spilled on him.
"Why are people so stupid?" he muttered, disgruntled (as a disgruntled half-nation named Nico should be).
The person looked up; a woman, tiny with very dark brown hair, all high eyebrows and olive skin and stone-dark eyes. She apologized quickly, bowing, but caught his arm just as he was about to storm away, whole day ruined.
"Why are you so grumpy?" she asked, knowing that people with eyes like his could not be so bad in their hearts, that they are merely conditioned to be.
He frowned, thoughtful. "My name is Nico." he answered, frown still on his lips. Because people around there had names like Portugal and Seychelles and Guam, he knew he was going to be laughed at. She just smiled, making no sound.
"My name is Yasu!" she nodded, a little bob of the head. Before he could get another word in; "do you need something to cheer you up, Nico?"
She then reached into her pocket and produced two red-and-yellow lollipops, offering them to him happily. Chupa Chups; Nico took one with one hand, her hand in the other, and decided that maybe being a half-nation named Nico didn't have to disgruntle him after all.
 men getting pregnant · Sun Feb 14, 2010 @ 03:56am · 0 Comments |
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