Countryhumans, but it's all Africa

🌙 Oneshot || 🇿🇦 × 🇮🇳

~ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ~

⮕ 🇮🇳 India; Cis Female [she/her] - Main

⮕ 🇿🇦 South Africa; Female [Intersex] [she/her, mainly] - Main

⮕ 🇦🇫 Afghanistan; Cis Female [she/her] - Side

⮕ 🇮🇳 Surat; Cis Female [she/her] - Side

⮕ 🇮🇳 Sanatana Dharma; Cis Female [she/her] - Side

~ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭 ~

⮕ India is preparing for her wedding day, and India goes into a few small flashbacks about how they ended up getting where they are for some more context on their relationship.

⮕ wouldn't really call this historical, though there is a little bit of historical facts and events that occure and/or mentioned.

⮕ Again, I haven't written in a long time so please just bare with me

~ 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐕𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 [𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐚] ~

     India gently draped her saree over her shoulder and tilted her head to watch as it rolled down her back. A piece of fabric hung off her collar–making her roll her eyes and tear it off, twiddling her fingers after to untangle it from her hand. She held her breath as she put both her palms against the counter and leaned forwards to study herself in the mirror. Her box of piercings lay nearly centimeters from her left hand and she knew she needed to put them on soon but she simply couldn't bring herself to look away from how far she'd come so far.

     This was finally it. After years of waiting and closeting herself from the world she was finally about to marry the woman she'd fallen in love with all so many years ago. Since they were children, honestly. She's just always felt something there for South Africa, and found the other to be nice from the moment they met as young 8 year olds. At first, she was just that friend you didn't do anything without and then it turned into the realisation she didn't want to do anything without her.

     It wasn't just because they both overcame the British, she'd explained that many times to people who claim they only like one another for their colonization history. That wasn't the entire case. Yes, it was true India was pushed around and taken from her home to come to South Africa due to the British colonization of her nation, and she spites the British Empire for doing that, but the idea that's why she likes the other isn't true at all.

     South Africa from the moment she'd gotten there began suggesting and even doing things reguarding civil disobedience to make India and her siblings more comfortable there. At first, India was as clueless as to understanding why she was so nice to her. I mean, she clearly didn't belong in South Africa. Her native culture was simply too different and forcing the other to change her ways just to make her feel at home always made her heart drop all the way to her gut. It was nice but it certainly must've been tiring. Sanatana—her sister—seemingly didn't like the idea either, though she was much colder to South Africa than she needed to be.

     When she'd finally returned home after gaining her independence, she'd honoured the other by placing a portrait of the two of them in her living room so she'd always remember her. The fear she'd never see her again kept creeping up on her. Afterall, she'd left her while she was still colonized, who knows what she went through during that time alone with him? Oh how her heart ached at the thought she wouldn't see her ever again. She was too kind. Not a day went by she didn't think of her or try contacting her via writing or even attempting to go back and find her herself but governing a nation wasn't as easy as she thought it would be.

     And still, when they were reunited, her feelings only got stronger to the point she sufficated everytime she was simply in her sight, She remember the day she'd finally told her very vividly, it was almost unreal.... They'd had a meeting one afternoon reguarding her contribute to the African National Congress struggles. That was the only reason she'd ever planned the meeting, she tried telling herself—even going as far as writing it in her notes—but of course, the other was far too gorgeous to not want to grab lunch with after the meeting. She remembers having such a red face when she complimented her, she was glad she'd worn a red veil that day. She'd barely said anything, her mind was else where but her eyes were on South Africa like some pirate looking at gold. Her chewing on her nails and scratching at her throat to try to scrape a word out didn't work as well as she'd hoped.

     India snapped herself back to now, however, by stubbing her toe against the counter below. She could faintly hear Afghanistan in the other room messing around with Surat to keep her entertained, and with a light smile she picked up a thin-circular bridal nath—with golden flowers on the end, may I add—and started to place it by her nose and ear. She adjusted it, humming with satisfaction when it looked evened enough and going back for more.

     One thing she didn't fear showing was her obsession with jewelry. 

     Not even obsession, it was just a huge part of her culture to dose yourself in jewels, and she loved the idea of being able to simply shine. Her tikka was already placed on her head from earlier so all she really needed to finish up with the last of her gems. She picked up the pace a little bit as she thought back to everything. From their first meet, to the meeting, laws, relations, people, everything. Every little thing led up to this.

     She subconsciously smiled to herself while she looked up from her jewlery box and stared at herself once again, fixing a few miss placed earrings on her upper ear and straitened out her tikka so it fit right on the center of her forehead. Now. She was good.

     "Aphagaanistaan!" India called, cupping her mouth a little to make herself louder. She heard a muffled 'what' form the left side, along with somebody sprinting towards the door. Surat giggled, but quickly calmed himself down, as far as she could tell, since no other sound could be heard from the other room. With a sigh, she stepped towards the slider door and placed her hand on the handle. Slowly, yet definetly surely, she opened it, revealing herself to Afghanistan, and a distracted Surat. 

     Afghanistan's jaw dropped, causing her to quickly cover her mouth and place a hand over her heart. Her eyes grew larger every second spent on India to the point where she even forgot to blink.

     She rubber her eyes quickly, leaving a gentle tear on her cheek, before throwing herself off the couch and running towards the other. "Khalab. Absolutely khalab." She said in a hushed whisper, grabbing India's hands and holding them firmly by her cheat. India chuckled, a small blush of embaressment hinting under her blush. 

     "Dhanyavaad." She thanked, nodding her head to justify it. Afghanistan hummed, turning her heard to look towards the door that led to the outside, causing India to do the same out of curiosity. She hadn't even noticed Afghanistan look back at her, but she must've for she bumped her with her hip and swayed her left shoulder forwards.

     "Say, I heard South Africa was waiting~" she teased, leaning in to touch their noses together  as she spoke. "Why don't we go see your bride to be, hmm?" she winked, grabbing her wrist. India took in a breath, holding it for however long she could while closing her eyes and mumbling some inaudible saying. Opening them, she nodded. 

     Now, she was just counting down the moments before she could officially start calling this woman her wife.

~ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 & 𝐏𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 ~

Saree — a women's garment from the Indian subcontinent,

Nath — Nose ring

Tikka — maang tikka is a piece of jewellery typically worn by Indian women on the forehead

Aphagaanistaan — 'Afghanistan' in Hindi [" अफ़ग़ानिस्तान "]

Khalab — 'Gorgeous' in arabi [" خلاب "]

Dhanyavaad — "thank you" formally in Hindi [" धन्यवाद "]