ARTBOOK

My best friend: Palestine! (ONESHOT)

TW: CANNIBALISM

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Love is the ache of absence in the quietest hour, the weight of someone's laughter lingering long after they've gone. It's the beauty of a touch that leaves a bruise only you can feel, the way their name can taste bittersweet in your mouth. Love teaches you how to bloom, but it also reminds you that even the most beautiful flowers wither. It's the light that leads you through the dark, but sometimes, it flickers—just enough to remind you how fragile it all is. Yet still, we hold on. Because even in its fleeting nature, love is worth every ounce of pain it brings.

But what are the different types of Love?

Love comes in so many forms, each touching us in different ways. There's Eros, the intense, passionate love that sweeps you off your feet, full of desire and attraction, but often fleeting like a spark. Then there's Philia, the deep bond of friendship, built on trust and shared memories, a love that grows steadily and remains long after excitement fades.

Storge is the natural, unconditional love we feel for family, the kind that withstands conflicts and misunderstandings, always bringing us back together. Agape is the purest, most selfless love, where we give without expecting anything in return, offering compassion and kindness even in the hardest moments.

Sometimes love is light, playful, and flirtatious—that's Ludus, full of laughter and the joy of being in the moment, not worrying about the future. Then there's Pragma, a practical, enduring love that matures over time, built on shared goals and mutual respect, where love becomes a steady choice made every day.

And lastly, there's Philautia, self-love, which is the foundation for all the others. It's the quiet understanding that we must care for ourselves before we can fully love anyone else. In all its forms, love shapes us—sometimes it lifts us, sometimes it breaks us, but it's always a part of who we are.

Iraq felt all forms of love at some point in his immortal, painful life, but he felt it all at once right now when he held his best friends hand in his, the moonlight over the palmtrees flashing onto them. Iraq had always thought that Palestine looked so beautiful, his fluffy curly hair and shiny green eyes looked downright ethereal to Iraq. He loves admiring everything since he saw beauty in everything and everyone, especially his friend, Palestine.

Palestine had more darker skin than Iraq, shorter, curlier hair and light green eyes. He always put kohl on his top and bottom lash line to make his already long eyelashes appear more thicker and longer. He radiates a beauty that stirs the soul, as if the world itself should pause and admire his adoring facial harmony.

Iraq held a hand up to his best friend's cheek, giggling like a little boy. "I wan' put your hair up in a ponytail!"

Palestine smiled at his best friend, the way his full lips curled up into a loveable little smile made Iraq wanna pick his friend up with his muscular hands and never let go of him. Their bond went so much deeper, way deeper than any of those traitorous gulf countries who get a hard-on over America and money. It felt more real with Palestine, more truth. Palestine's big doe eyes looked up at Iraq's thin almond eyes, and all he could see was a loving gaze directed at him.

Iraq's steady fingers glide over Palestine's hair, like flower roots in the soil, collecting all of his strands and wrapping it up in a small ponytail, using a ripped off part of his red and white keffiyeh to wrap around as a hair-tie. They both had matching keffiyehs (Iraq always insisted that it was called a Shemagh!) on, it's a part of their identities. The red and white one is a symbol of the Iraqi people, the black and white one is a symbol of the Palestinian people. Each sharing the same keffiyeh, same pattern, and same fabric, just with one color apart. Iraq always wore his shemagh wrapped around his head, Palestine wore his keffiyeh wrapped around his neck.

Iraq admired his stylish work as he played around with Palestine's curls with a big stupid smile on his face, he brushed his friends keffiyeh aside and leaned into his shoulder, planting a little kiss filled with devotion and fondness than laying his head on his shoulder, snuggling his cheek onto his friend.

They are both connected like a red string wrapped around their pinky fingers, Palestine would follow him into the darkest of forests, for he knows his friend's light will guide him to the radiant of blossoms. Iraq would let his best friend feast on his dying flesh if it meant he would be well fed. There was no business, they genuinely loved each other. Love is all-consuming, and their love was a step away from them consuming each other lovingly. They want to devour each other's muscles, blood, each sinew that connected their individual bodies.

They want to split each other open and pry open each other's ribs, they want to pick at each other's bones and suck the marrow out. This was their deep devotion to each other, the urge to consume and be consumed. For each other, their organs are ripped apart to reveal their more sensitive parts. For each other, they will always crawl with their bones sticking out and intenstines dragging on the floor after the pain of their realities just to hold one another.

They are both angry and aggressive in response to the circumstances they are suffering in, but for each other, they are gentle. Palestine intertwined his fingers with Iraq yet again as Iraq shifted to sit next to him and raise his head up from his shoulder. They stared silently at the stars and the moon in a comfortable silence, Iraq focused more on the two stars who were more closer than each little shiny dot in the night.

No matter how many terrible things they go through, they will always long to sit together outside in the moonlight and peel each other's angelic skin piece by piece and eating the pieces of flesh with their foreheads pressed together as they enjoy the other's existence.

This is truly Iraq's friend, Palestine, and he felt all forms of love with him.

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guys read fic again bu listen 2 "the red means i love you" cz dats wut i listened 2 while writin dis it fits >_<