Прощай моя любовь

chapter 9

Time slithered past. Silently, the two counties, along with their brunette taxi driver, sat in the leather-coated interior of the BMW, watching the winter streets sweep past them.

The smiling Russian man absent-mindlessly glanced at the familiar figure beside him, Canada. Within the first few minutes of arriving in the taxi, Canada's eyelids felt like they where growing heavier, and at around half past ten, fifteen minutes after they had started driving, Canada slipped into an abyssal, dream-ridden sleep. Russia's (almost) ever-present smile grew as he gently petted the Canadian' s bowed head as if he was a cat, threading his fingers in the luxurious blonde hair strands hanging behind his ear.

Russia pulled back when the mysteriously comforting purr of the car halted abruptly along with the car itself, causing Russia to turn his gaze to the brown-haired taxi driver, as if expecting an explanation as to why the car had stopped short of its destination

"Um... I apologise, b-but the road ends here; I can't take you any further, unfortunately." The female's words brought sudden realisation to him, and in response, Russia displayed his adorable closed-eyes smile towards the taxi driver, chirping, "It's ok, thanks for taking us this far, anyway."

The brunette concealed her involuntary smile by swiping the back of her right hand over her lips, before bidding the countrys a sound farewell and wishing them a safe joeny to their estate in 'the middle of nowhere'. Swiftly, the Russian scooped up the sleeping Canadian, careful not to awaken him, and crawled out of the machine, abandoning the caressing warmth that it provided and stepping into the lashing wind and the cold, night air. Closing the glossy black car door with a swipe of his foot, Russia supported the slumbering nation and trudged through the thick carpet of snow that seemed to envelop Russia's whole world.

The taxi driver's emerald eyes followed them untill the darkness completely consumed the lean figure of the Russian and the lithe frame of the Canadian. "Gah," she muttered, "I wish my phone hadn't run out of battery so I could take a picture..." she could now only visualise the cute image of the grinning blonde holding his beloved, bridal-style,

"I'm going to draw that when I get back home..."

Canada shuffled slightly in his new position and environment. The warmth emitted from the leather seats inside the taxi had been torn away and replaced by an even warmer embrace. However, the gusts of wind never tired of blowing delicate snowflakes all over his skin. Thankfully, the conductors of the breeze seemed to have given him mercy, and had restricted the usual violent swipes of wind to a peaceful, swirling spiral of snowflakes that peppered the night sky.

Determined not to disturb Canada's slumber, Russia attempted to hold him slightly closer to his body, intending to keep him warm, but to no avail. Russia continued to trudge into the abyss, until he felt Canada unconsciously maneuver his left, then his right arms around Russia's bulky neck (that was suffering from the absence of his precious scarf).

Like an upside-down waterfall, Russia's blood immediately streamed to his head, staining his cheeks and ears a prominent shade of pink. The hundreds of thoughts that brewed in his heat oppressed mind became misted and blurry, causing his limbs to tremble until-

"R-Russia...? Oh, I must have fallen asleep...sorry about tha-"

Canada glimpsed Russia flustered face, noticing that he had his own arms draped around the blushing man's neck. The pair stared intently, mouths agape. The purple cosmos within both of Russia's eyes where locked onto Canada's face, switching rapidly from his lips to his eyes, until he finally tore away his gaze and continued to waddle through the snow. Following suit, Canada averted his gaze and focused on the delicate, ever-building sheet of snow beneath him.

"I...eh... th-thank you, for... well, e-everything, ru-Ivan..."

When Canada saw the content expression spread across Russia's face, Canada knew that his thanks had been accepted.

"I mean, ever since I-I first saw you... in the snowstorm..."

Russia's eyes lit up with hope once again, finally taking an interval in his trek and staring deep into the Canadian' s eyes, "da?" He murmured.

Canada's eyes dilated as well, but for a different reason, "n-n-never mind! Doesn't m-matter..."

Now it was Canada that was blushing like a Japanese schoolgirl in a shojo anime! After a short, awkward pause, Russia resumed his pilgrimage, hope still twinkling inside his lilac eyes.

Noting the pair's proximity, Canada mused, "I-I'm guessing you want y-your scarf back, then," already draping a handful of the pink material around Russia's neck. When both of their necks where connected with the scarf, Canada prepared to detach himself, until he heard a childish voice chime,

"Нет."

Pulling Canada's body further towards him until their foreheads met, Russia murmured, his breath caressing Canada's chilled face, "your arms are much warmer."

And, by a force stronger than gravity, more momentous than lust, and more productive than hatred, their desolate lips met.

Immediately, the ice around their bodies and hearts seemed to begin to melt as their lips made contact. Russia slid his eyelids down, feeling as if he was elevated to a world of pure bliss. New, unusual sensations where spreading across Russia's body: electrizity was dashing through his veins, newfound heat burned and raged within his skull, and something seemed to tickle his heart relentlessly. But despite the fact he could not control these queer sensations, unlike most of the countries on earth, they all seemed to make the sweet kiss more addictive.

Canada was paralysed. His blood snaked its way through his body and travelled straight to his face, painting it a prominent scarlet hue. But through the white noise that rang in his ears, something whispered,'this is what you wanted!'

For once, he obliged and let his rapidly-beating heart take control over his head.