Title: Melody.
Author: Emily ff
Rating: Green
Genre: Angst , introspective
Alerts:
One-shot Characters: Russia, Lithuania
FOOTNOTES There is no historical background.
Lithuania is aimed at calling Russia "Russia-San" in the anime, I have translated into a simpler "Mr Russia" (I do not like to use "Japanese"). I do not know if it's the exact spelling, in case I apologize, but I liked the effect so that gave him leave (u_u).
The title means in Russian Melody (if it is wrong to blame Google translator).
This is the first story I wrote when I met APH and has no Shonen Ai. Not because I do not like (on the contrary, RussiaLituania is my OTP), but for the simple reason that even I did not have in mind when I wrote it.
's a story that I have prepared for months, this part in italics at the'm listing now, was saved on my computer exactly as you see it.
Ah yes, it is the second person in .
Comments, criticisms and tricks welcome, as always.
Enjoy.
slow walk in the snow trying to keep pace with Russia, a little further ahead, when the cold does not affect the white skin and that you, little Lithuania, seemed volertela rip. For whatever absurd reason you were walking in the middle of a storm, alone, but ask her why the action was a prerogative of Russia, you and the other Baltic countries you could only follow orders mechanically and without demand explanations.
Looking at the ground, your eyes clear they were not able to deal with the snow without protection, and you went crashing into the back of the Russian who had stopped, always without reason (or at least notice).
You did two steps back, looking up to Russia and are unable to see her scarf flying in all directions, driven by the Siberian wind blowing violent on you. The pain was strong and abbastasti head.
"Excuse me, Mr. Russia." You said with his eyes fixed on the ground, his throat burning from too much cold, plugged ears, hands and feet frozen.
He did not answer right away, merely to observe the snow come down more and more violent towards you, now small dots in a white desert. We often wondered what pushed Russia to face the cold and snow so hated: you could not understand why once in a while, usually after a year, called him one of you for advancing the prairie that stretched out of the walls of the large building, then stand still to watch the snow fall, frost sometimes simple, sometimes even devastating storms that froze the blood because they were rushing. Do you remember when was the turn of Latvia came back with eyes wide open and I asked, shivering a bit 'for the cold and a bit' out of fear, if it had not fallen into some strange form of hibernation conscious.
was the first time that Russia asked you to follow him, had not heard explanations when Estonia began to explain that there were many degrees below zero (many, failed to define the number, perhaps not to worry ulteriolmente), had ignored Latvia that was placed in front of you and smiled before opening the great door of the building. You were not a hot country, of course, but the cold confrontation with Russia that you disarmed. It was foolish to even think of going out with a wind like this ... how could he scoffed, smiling quietly?
"Lithuania, you're cold?", I asked a few moments after Russia (or perhaps a few hours later, who knows?), Turning to you, that you could not even lift his head.
you came but you fail to understand exactly what was the distance that separates you and sentisti one hand to press it over your head.
"Eh, Lithuania? Are you cold? "
" Mr R-S-russia, s-mez we nev-ZZO al-lla-ve. ", You said, realizing that the cold had seized even in your mouth, making it tremble and risking you bite your tongue.
pressure grew stronger, but it was not a violent act: it was as if trying to get inside your head and bring in something that could be a feeling, a mood.
He turned to the threatening storm that was unleashed against you, his hand still over your head.
"Oh yes, Lithuania, we are right in the snow." He said, pulling down with a distracted gesture gloved hand on the pink skin of your cheek.
He dropped his arm down the sides and turned the other way, walking backward on the road from where you were coming. Girasti you too, happy to finally go back. After a few
tempo la tempesta diminuì di intensità e tu riuscisti a sollevare il capo, rivolgendo le attenzioni non più alle tue scarpe ma alla schiena di Russia che ti precedeva, muto.
Deglutendo ti si stapparono le orecchie e riuscisti a scorgere il rumore della bufera che ancora vi avvolgeva.
Sentisti un suono provenire dalla tue spalle e ti voltasti verso il luogo in cui vi eravate fermati. In lontananza, come se fosse bisbigliata dal vento gelido del nord, risuonava una melodia malinconica e lenta.
“S-signor Russia, la s-sente la musica?”
“Ma come?”, chiese Russia, fermandosi e voltandosi verso di you, you were already on the defensive, ready to ask forgiveness. "You have heard the melody before?" He smiled.
you wondered what you could refer to, but I just could not understand.
"N-s-I have not heard anything, Mr. Rus-S-ssia."
Russia is watching you making you shudder even more.
"Nothing?"
It was scary, in the eyes and the usual inscrutable smile of false reassurance, and was afraid you'd be so happy to run away, running toward Somewhere behind you, do not 'd turned and probably would have cried with happiness.
Instead abbassasti not look for anything that you think would happen and you awake a calmness cry in front of Russia was not exactly one of many things you could do.
"Lithuania, have not you heard anything?"
Russia was particularly intransigent in terms of rules: if you asked him something, anything, you were doing it quietly and as quickly as possible, trying to do not let your discomfort and leaking, in your case, frequent stomach ache (which were decidedly worse both in intensity and frequency).
That tummy that looked at both ulcer and who had seized you in that moment, when you lie if you asked was the only way out of that situation.
The Russian raised his hand and the approach to your cheek when you abbassasti his head and closed your eyes.
"S-yes, Mr. R-s-russia, I heard the s-m-music."
"Oh. Then I'm not crazy. "
And you you could not help but be surprised by that statement. The Russian had already turned and started walking.
At him, confused, and you called. He did not stop walking but turned his head slightly towards you. Now one step behind him, you asked, with one breath, "Mr. Russia, because they think to be mad?", Strangely without stuttering.
He smiled and closed his eyes and then reopen it and look ahead, the building a few hundred meters away from you.
"Because the music we have heard is the voice of the snow. He calls me often, but I never want to listen to him. I hear it's just me. "
" The c-name? "
Russia smiled and looked at you, holding the eyes. He could be really frightening sometimes.
"Yes, I called, she wants is to hear what he has to say. So when I hear that its requirements are more demanding, and listening to the lowlands. "
Were you puzzled and still voltasti to the fiery storm, only to realize that Russia had increased the stride of his feet and was already far from you. Corresti in his direction, screaming. "Mr. S-Russia, not as snow-sentinel subse-st-Tando"
"Oh no, Lithuania." I interrupted, smiling. " To appreciate the beauty of a snowflake, you have to be out in the cold 1 . "
You never thought that Russia could have thoughts like that.
few more minutes before arriving at the foot of the palace, where you expect the other two Baltic countries. Russia does not tremble more and more I had spoken.
You took a deep breath. "Mr. Russia, what do you say snow?"
The great nation will not answer at once, seemed to hesitate in speaking. It was not a Good idea, right?
"Well, I talk about war and death, more than anything brings news from the eastern borders. It reminds me to be more present in east side. "
you tranquillizzasti ricominciasti to breathe a little and, although not remember when I stopped.
Russia stood with him and you, stomach-ache sentisti increase the intensity.
"Today he told me to stop thinking of the sun. She says that she is the mistress. You know, I think we are destined to live forever in the snow. "
Abbassasti eyes thinking that the plural in the last sentence was just another joke to him.
<B>Autore:</B><SPAN class=Apple-converted-space>&nbsp;</SPAN>Emily ff
<B>Rating:</B><SPAN class=Apple-converted-space>&nbsp;</SPAN>Verde
<B>Genere:</B><SPAN class=Apple-converted-space>&nbsp;</SPAN>Angst, introspettivo
<B>Avvisi:</B><SPAN class = Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> One-shot
\u0026lt;B> Characters: \u0026lt;/ B> \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> Russia, Lithuania
\u0026lt;B> FOOTNOTES \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;/ B> \u0026lt;I> There ' it is no historical background. \u0026lt;/ I> \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN>
Lithuania Russia turns to him as "Russia-San" in the anime, which I have translated into a simpler "Mr Russia" (I do not like to use "Japanese"). I do not know if it's the exact spelling, in case I apologize, but I liked the effect so that gave him leave (u_u). \u0026lt;? Xml: namespace prefix = o /> \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
The title means in Russian Melody (if it is wrong to blame Google translator). \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
\u0026lt;I> This is the first story I wrote when I APH and has no known Shonen Ai. Not because I do not like (on the contrary, RussiaLituania is my OTP), but for the simple reason that even I did not have in mind when I wrote it. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
E 'I have a story ready for months, this part written in cursive I'm entering the time, was saved on my computer exactly as you see it. \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt; o: p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
Ah yes, it is in \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;B> second person \u0026lt;/ B>. \u0026lt; o: p> \u0026lt;/ o: p> \u0026lt;/ I>
Commenti, critiche e accorgimenti ben accetti, come sempre.<o:p></o:p></BIG></BIG></P><P style="TEXT-ALIGN: right; FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt" class=MsoNormal align=right><BIG><BIG><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p>
Enjoy.<o:p></o:p></BIG></BIG></P><P style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt" class=MsoNormal><BIG><BIG><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></BIG></BIG></P><P style="TEXT-ALIGN: right; FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt" class=MsoNormal align=right><BIG><BIG><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p>
\u0026lt;lj-cut text="Melodiya">
\u0026lt;SPAN class=apple-style-span> \u0026lt;SPAN style="MARGIN: 21px; COLOR: black; FONT-SIZE: 14pt"> ; Melodiya (\u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;SPAN class=apple-style-span> \u0026lt;SPAN style="MARGIN: 21px; COLOR: black; FONT-SIZE: 14.5pt"> мелодия) \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;SPAN style="MARGIN: 21px; COLOR: black; FONT-SIZE: 14pt"> \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>. , \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ P> \u0026lt;P style = "FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; margin-bottom: 0pt" class = MsoNormal> & nbsp \u0026lt;big> \u0026lt;big> \u0026lt;o:p> ; \u0026lt;/ o: p> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ P> \u0026lt;P style = "FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; MARGIN -BOTTOM: 0pt "class = MsoNormal> \u0026lt;big> \u0026lt;big> slow walk in the snow trying to keep pace with Russia, a little further ahead, when the cold is not scratched the white skin and that you, little Lithuania, seemed volertela rip. For whatever absurd reason you were walking in the middle of a storm, alone, but ask her why the action was a prerogative of Russia, you and the other Baltic countries \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt; / SPAN> \u0026lt;SPAN> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> you could just follow orders mechanically and without demanding explanations. \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;or : p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
looking at the ground, your eyes clear were not able to deal with the snow without protection, and you went crashing into the back of the Russian who had stopped, always without reason (or at least notice). \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt; ; / SPAN> \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p> You did
two steps back, looking up to Russia and are unable to see her scarf flying in all directions, driven by the Siberian wind that blew up in violent you. The pain was strong and abbastasti head. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
"Excuse me, Mr. Russia." You said with his eyes fixed on the ground, his throat on fire too much cold, plugged ears, hands and feet frozen. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
He did not answer right away, merely to observe the snow off increasingly violent towards you, now small dots in a white desert. We often wondered what pushed Russia to face the cold and snow so hated: you could not understand why once in a while, usually after a year, called him one of you for advancing the prairie that stretched out of the walls of the large building, then stand still to watch the snow fall, frost sometimes simple, sometimes even devastating storms that froze the blood because they were rushing. You remembered well when it was Latvia's turn: he was back with his eyes wide open and I asked, shivering a bit 'for the cold and a bit' out of fear, if it had not fallen into some strange form of hibernation conscious. \u0026lt;SPAN class = Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
was the first time that Russia asked you to follow him, had not heard explanations when Estonia had begun to explain that there were \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;I> many \u0026lt;/ I> \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt; ; / SPAN> degrees below zero (many had not called the number, perhaps not to worry ulteriolmente), had ignored Latvia that was placed in front of you and smiled before opening the great door of the building. You were not a hot country, of course, but the cold confrontation with Russia that you disarmed. It was foolish to even think of going out with a wind like this ... how could he scoffed, smiling quietly? \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
"Lithuania, you're cold?", I asked a few moments after Russia (or perhaps a few hours later, who knows?), turning to you, that you could not even lift his head. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
you came but you fail to understand exactly what was the distance that separates you and sentisti one hand to press it over your head. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
"Eh, Lithuania? Are you cold? "\u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
" Mr R-S-russia, s-mez we nev-ZZO al-lla-ve. ", You said, realizing that the cold was also possession of your mouth, making it tremble and a chance of biting his tongue. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
pressure grew stronger, but it was not a violent act: it was as if trying to get inside your head to bring into something that could be a feeling, a mood. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
He turned to the threatening storm that was unleashed against you, his hand still over your head. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
"Oh yes, Lithuania, we are right in the snow." he said, pulling down with a distracted gesture gloved hand on the pink skin of your cheek. \u0026lt;or : p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
He dropped his arm down the sides and turned the other way, walking backward on the road from where you were coming. Girasti you too, happy to finally be able to return back. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
After some time the storm diminished in intensity and you are unable to lift his head, paying no more attention to your shoes but back to Russia in front of you, dumb . \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p> Swallowing
you uncork your ears and you are unable to discern the noise of the storm that still envelops you. \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt; ; / SPAN> \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
Sentisti a sound coming from behind you and you voltasti to the place where you had stopped. In the distance, as if it were whispered by the icy wind of the North, sounded a melancholy melody and slow. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
"Mr. S-Russia, the s-hear the music?" \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
"What?" asked Russia, stopping and turning to you, you were already on the defensive, ready to ask forgiveness. "You have heard the melody before?" He smiled. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
you wondered what you could refer to, but I just could not understand. \u0026lt;SPAN class = Apple-converted- space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
"N-s-I have not heard anything, Mr. Rus-S-ssia." \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
Russia is watching you making you shudder even more. \u0026lt;SPAN class = Apple-converted -space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
"Nothing?" \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
It was frightening, under those inscrutable eyes and the usual smile of false reassurance, and was afraid you'd be so happy to run away, running toward Somewhere behind you, you would not have turned around and probably would have cried with happiness. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p> Instead look for
abbassasti not think anything would happen and we will conduct a destination: cry in front of Russia was not exactly one of \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt; , I> a lot of things \u0026lt;/ I> \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> you could do. \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt; / SPAN> \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
"Lithuania, have not you heard anything?" \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
Russia was particularly intransigent in terms of rules: if you asked him something, anything, you were doing it quietly and as quickly as possible, trying not to let your discomfort and leaking, in your case, frequent stomach ache (which were both significantly worse in intensity and frequency). \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
That tummy that looked at both ulcer and who had seized you in that moment, you lie when you asked if it was the only way out of that situation. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
The Russian raised his hand and the approach to your cheek, abbassasti his head and when you closed your eyes. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
"S-yes, Mr. R-s-russia, I heard the s-m-music." \u0026lt;o: p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
"Oh. Then I'm not crazy. "\u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
And you you could not help but be surprised by that statement. The Russian had already turned and started walking. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
at him, confused, and you called. He did not stop walking but turned his head slightly towards you. Now one step behind him, you asked, with one breath: "Mr. Russia, that you may be crazy?", Strangely without stuttering. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
He smiled and closed his eyes and then reopen it and look ahead, the building a few hundred meters away from you. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
"Because the music we have heard is the voice of the snow. He calls me often, but I never want to listen to him. I hear it's just me. \u0026lt;I> "\u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p> \u0026lt;/ I>
" The c-name? "\u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p> ; Russia
smiled and looked at you, eyes narrowed. He could be really frightening sometimes. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
"Yes, I called, she wants is to hear what he has to say. So when I hear that its requirements are more demanding, and listening to the lowlands. "\u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
Were you puzzled and still voltasti to the fiery storm, only to realize that Russia had increased the stride of his feet and was already far away from you. Corresti in his direction, screaming. "Mr. S-Russia, not as snow-sentinel subse-st-Tando" \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
"Oh no, Lithuania." I interrupted, smiling. "\u0026lt;I> To appreciate the beauty of a snowflake, you have to be out in the cold \u0026lt;SUP> 1 \u0026lt;/ SUP>." \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p> \u0026lt;/ I>
not you would have thought that Russia could have thoughts like that. \u0026lt;SPAN class=Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
few more minutes before arriving at the foot of the palace, where you expect the other two Baltic countries. Do not tremble more and Russia did not you talk more. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
You took a deep breath. "Mr. Russia, what do you say snow?" \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
The great nation do not answer immediately, he seemed to hesitate in speaking. It was not a good idea, right? \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
"Well, I talk about war and death, more than anything brings news from the eastern borders. It reminds me to be more present in the east. "\u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
you tranquillizzasti ricominciasti to breathe a little and, although he did not remember when had stopped. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
Russia stood with him and you, stomach-ache sentisti increase the intensity. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
" Today he told me to stop thinking of the sun. She says that she is the mistress. You know, I think we are destined to live forever in the snow. "\u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ O: p>
Abbassasti eyes thinking that the plural in the last sentence was just another joke to him . \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ P> \u0026lt;P style = "FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; margin-bottom: 0pt" class = MsoNormal> & nbsp \u0026lt;big> \u0026lt;big> \u0026lt;o:p> ; \u0026lt;/ o: p> All escaped from the snow, only Russia was fighting the head-on. \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ P> \u0026lt; , P style = "FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; margin-bottom: 0pt" class = MsoNormal> \u0026lt;big> \u0026lt;big> \u0026lt;o:p> & ; nbsp; \u0026lt;/ o: p> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ P> \u0026lt;P style = "FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman, Times, serif; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0pt" class = MsoNormal> \u0026lt;BIG> \u0026lt;BIG> \u0026lt;o:p> & nbsp , \u0026lt;/ o: p> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ P> \u0026lt;P style="FONT-SIZE: 0pt" class=MsoNormal> \u0026lt;BIG style = "FONT-FAMILY : 'Times New Roman, Times, serif "> \u0026lt;BIG> \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p>
\u0026lt;SUP> \u0026lt;o:p> \u0026lt;/ o: p> 1 \u0026lt;/ SUP> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;SPAN roman?,? Serif ?;?="" new = "" times ="">\u0026lt; BIG style = "FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif"> \u0026lt;big> \u0026lt;SPAN class = Apple-converted-space> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> A proverb of unknown origin (as far as I know, I can not find where it came from nowhere) that I found documented case on the geography of Russia (which I did not use to my advantage). \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ BIG> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;/ P> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;/ SPAN> \u0026lt;/ lj-cut>
