The cummunist dick-tatorship

Chapter 13: You love me?

AN: SORRY FOR HOW LONG ITS BEEN ILL TRY AND UPDATE MORE OFTEN!!

Lenin's POV:
...I love you."
I can't believe what I've just heard.
I'm low-key high and drunk, but I've sobered up enough in the past half an hour to realise what has just been said to me.
He loves me?
My jaw is practically on the floor.
All I can manage to say is, "you love me?"
I watch as Stalin's face falls with disappointment. He stutters and is less confide when he speaks now.
"Y- yes, I do. I love you." He states again.
"Oh." Is all I can manage at the moment.
Do I love him? Oh god.
That's a loaded question.
I think I do.
I care for him very much. I feel a lot of emotions towards him...but is love one of them?
I can't tell.
Or do I love him and just don't want to admit it to myself?
I play with the blades of grass next to me. Picking bits off then ripping them apart.
"That's not the response I was hoping for," Stalin says quietly, "but, hey, no pressure."
"Stalin, I'm sorry. I just...I don't know if I'm there yet."
"Oh Len, and that's ok, I just wanted to tell you so you knew. You don't have to say it back, I promise."
Stalin reaches out and gently tucks a piece of hair behind my ears. I lean into his hand.
"I hope you know I really do care about you...more than I've ever cared about anyone in my life," I say earnestly.
Stalin smiles sweetly, his cheeks turning crimson.
"You're my favourite person Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov," he whispers softly.
Holy shit.
My real name. My full real name. He knows it.
"You- you," I can't even get my words out.
"Yes I learnt your full name. I want to know all of you."
I kiss him then, it's the only reaction that feels suitable at the moment.
He kisses back, softly at first, then a wave of passion takes over and his lips crash more powerfully into mine.
Things escalate quickly and soon enough I'm straddling him.
I pull away for second, the absence of his lips on mine almost painful, to admire his face.
That complexion.
Those eyes.
That damn smirk.
"What are you looking at?" Stalin giggles, his eyes lighting up in the way I adore.
"You." I simply state.
Stalin grins at me for second, but then his smile fades.
He breaks eye contact, and looks down instead.
I grab his chin and tilt his face up towards mine.
"Babe whats wrong?"
"Lenin...I have to know..."
"Stalin, what's wrong, you're scaring me."
"Is- is this just a fling to you?" He asks, looking up at me with those big blue orbs.
"What? What the fuck would make you say that?"
"I don't know, look, I'm just asking ok?"
"I mean, it's not just a fling, you know you mean way more to me than that, but...we're keeping it casual for now, right?" I say, raising my eyebrows at him.
"Casual?" He scoffs, "nothing about this- us is casual, Lenin."
"Look I don't want to rush into anything ok-"
"Casual my ass." He shakes his head and laughs, but there's no hint of humour in it. "Was it casual, Lenin, when we spend every single day together. Constant makeout sesh's in the janitors closet? Come on! Was it casual when we were valentines? Was it casual when I told you I LOVED YOU!?!?!"
He's stood up now, after moving me off of his lap and onto the cold grass.
"Stalin please calm down-"
"No! No, you do not get to tell me to calm down." He points a finger at me, his tone accusatory, "you never ever mentioned to me that this was casual. I mean holy shit I was beginning to feel like you loved me."
"Stalin, please, hear me out."
He's not listening to me anymore.
"God, I feel so stupid. Why, Lenin? Why? Why does this have to be casual? What are you so afraid of?"
His words strike me hard in the chest, and practically knock the air out of me.
I sit there, mouth open, unsure of what to say to mend this damage.
I look down at my lap, I guess my best option now is to be honest.
"Look, Stalin, the reason why I can't jump into anything is...well...it's not realistic enough."
He finally looks at me again, confusion evident in his expression.
"What? What does that mean?"
"It means that, well, realistically, we could never public with out relationship, we could never live together, couldn't build a life together. I fear the future we wish for is simply a dream. A dream that is out of reach for both of us in this society."
Silence.
"Oh," is all Stalin can manage.
I nod slowly.
"Yep, and...please don't take offence when I say this, but I'm right in believing that the worst thing that could possibly happen to you is the rest of the members and the public finding out you're gay? Right?"
"Bi, actually. And yeah, I guess," he thinks for a second, "but why doesn't that mean that we can't live our lives together in secret."
"Because I don't want that Stalin," I admit. "I want to run away with the person I love and be somewhere where we are free to be ourselves and love each other with no worries or cares. Don't you want that too?"
"In my opinion, that's unrealistic," Stalin says coldly. "Look, Lenin, these are the cards we've been dealt, ok? So let's just accept it. We're never going to be able to be open and vocal about us so...might as well just get what we can."
"I'm sorry,, but that's just not the life I want to lead. I want to live, not just survive." I look him dead in the eyes, "if I can't love loudly, then I don't want to love at all."
With that he storms off into the night, leaving me all alone in the pitch-black field.
And those were the last words I said to Stalin for two whole months.