|
Post by KALEVI SIRVIÖ on May 8, 2011 23:54:27 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: #d4d4d4; width: 450px; -moz-border-radius-topright: 30px; border-radius: 0px 30px 0px 0px; border-left: #7E6F8C solid 6px;]
{ still in love with judas, baby,
When he comes to me, I am ready, I'll wash his feet with my hair if he needs. Forgive him when his tongue lies through his brain. Even after three times, he betrays me, I'll bring him down, bring him down, down, a king with no crown, king with no crown . |
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: #d4d4d4; width: 140px; border-left: #7E6F8C solid 6px;]TAGS Ingvar and Kalevi WORDS dunno LYRICS judas by lady gaga. NOTES Bleh. : v | [atrb=style,background-color: #d4d4d4; width: 308px;] |
[/b] There were many reasons for this. For one, it was his natural state. A day without being irritated would be like a day without breathing – it just didn’t happen. However, it usually hung about on a pretty low scale of 2 or 3. Today? Well, today was a blinking neon 10 of annoyances. First of all he’d had to pull himself out of bed early to see his boss who’d dropped papers and terrible news onto his plate in lei of breakfast, second he’d been driving the past 12 hours solid through truly annoying traffic, and third he was heading to his “ex’s” house. The last part was the worst. He hadn’t been back there since just after the ending of the winter war, and part of him doubted that drunkenly showing up, breaking the porch furniture, and screaming “See, I didn’t need you after all Vittupää!” before taking off like a bat out of hell really counted as a visit. Then again, the time before that probably hadn’t counted either… But that was one encounter Finland had staunchly decided to push back into the dark recesses of his mind. Kalevi grimaced when the long driveway to Sweden’s house came into view, and he slowed the car down to a speed that could probably be over taken by an elderly jogger. Ruefully he glanced sideways at the map sitting on his passengers’ seat, unopened. He was a bit unnerved to have not needed it to find the place – he preferred to think that, erm, that part of his life was only a distant memory. Well, determined to think it anyway. His stomach writhed with nerves as he pulled up to the house, the one just like he remembered , and he wiped his sweaty hands on the black suits pants’ legs. The car’s clock read 9:04 PM – it was probably too late to visit now anyway, right? The sun would be setting there in about a half an hour. Yes, he’d just bring his car into reverse and backtrack it to a hotel! That was it! He’d just drop by tomorrow morning. ... No, where was his sissu? He turned off the car and stepped out of the car determinedly. This wasn’t like when he’d had to jam crowbars into the wheels of a tank, after all. It was kinda worse.When he’d made it to the porch stairs Kalevi realized he was shaking. Getting extremely cross with himself, he stomped up the stairs and glanced around before pausing in surprise. The shaky table he’d made for Sweden a long time ago was still sitting there, though he distinctly remembered breaking off it’s too-thin legs the last time he’d 'visited'. And on the other side was the chair they’d rebuilt together after every raiding of their house! Everything was the same. It could have been centuries ago. He could open the door, hang his coat up on the rack, slip his arms around Ingvar, mummer in his ear and- Finland shook his head violently, anger surging up through his sinew. No. Those days were long gone. He knocked on the door, harder than was necessary or polite. “Sverige, are you there?” He yelled in Finnish. [/div][/center] [/td][/tr][/table] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 458px;]
|
[/center]
|
|
|
Post by INGVAR NOBEL on May 11, 2011 21:20:12 GMT -5
[atrb=style,border: 2px solid #000000;][bg=C4C4C4][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=width,20%][atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,3,true][atrb=background, i56.tinypic.com/xbbygm.jpg]
And who do you think you are runnin' round leaving scars Collecting your jar of hearts
words 800 tagged Kalevi, Ingvar music Glee Cast - Rolling in the Deep comments I couldn't think, so I just wrote some crap out. <3 7:56 PM
Sweden’s eyes cast down at the laptop’s clock, and then back up at the blank document in front of him. He’d been working on a proposal for his Boss for several hours, and not a single word had popped into his head. He was getting agitated. Of course, the internet pages he had up probably weren’t helping. Guiltily, the nation clicked out of his web browser and began to stare at the document once again. Why was this so hard? He’d done it so many times before that it should have been easy.
8:01 PM
Ugh, this was getting ridiculous. There was no way this was going to get done tonight. It would just have to be a day late. He closed his laptop decisively with a click and shuffled into the kitchen for a glass of water. Had doing nothing always been so tiring? Probably. The stress was going to kill him, he knew it. A nation putting himself out there after so long was a tough, uphill battle. Not many of his old contacts were willing to renegotiate relations—and the ones that were sometimes asked for way too much. Just because he wasn’t an Empire anymore didn’t mean he would grovel. Sweden wasn’t that desperate for friends. Once the glass of water was empty, he stared down at it in disdain, then at the growing pile of dishes in the sink. He used to be far more tidy. Nothing was ever out of place back then.
Back then.
Chores didn’t seem so much like chores with Finland there, though. When you had someone to idly chat with, the work seemed to fly by. And every time there was work now, he was reminded of what was missing. So really, the slowly growing pile in the sink was sort of a protest against the Finn’s absence. And it would keep growing, at least for another night.
8:47 PM
If only the proposal had been for Finland. It would surely be done by now. But there was no possibility that something like that would happen, since they weren’t exactly on speaking terms anymore. And who could blame his neighbor for that? He’d all but left him for dead. Even if the Boss had said he couldn’t, the Swede should have been there for Suomi, but—no. He had to stop going back to that. The past was the past, and there was nothing he could do to change it.
He shuffled into the hallway, pausing for just a moment to peer into his old bedroom with a rueful smile before he made it to his new sleeping quarters. He hadn’t been able to make himself stay in there by himself when Russia had done what he did. His new bedroom had once been the guest room. It was a little smaller, but it was still big enough for him. The bed fit in too, and it was just as comfortable in one room as it had been in another. So he laid down to try and sleep.
Several minutes ticked passed. Nothing happened. The Swede wasn’t even the least bit tired, and he rolled over in frustration. Was anything about this day going to be easy? His eyes shut tight, brow knitting together. But of course concentration wouldn’t help. He opened them once again to stare at the ceiling blankly. But then, the faint sound of a car pulling up made him sit back up. Really? Who was visiting now, right after he’d made up his mind to sleep? His agitation was even agitating him now, and he flung the blankets off of himself to stalk over to the window and peek out. Then he froze.
It couldn’t possibly be.
That couldn’t be Finland. His fingers were frozen on the window, his eyes wide in confusion. What could he possibly want—to yell some more? Or maybe to piss on the doorway. Sweden’s jaw clenched painfully tight. He couldn’t really yell at the Finn for venting his anger. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell. When the banging on the door started, he jumped. Was that Finnish? No, of course. It wouldn’t be Swedish. It just…made sense that Kalevi would use his own language. His heartbeat quickened with each step he took towards the door, and his breathing was heavy by the time he reached the wooden surface. His hand stayed on the doorknob for several moments before he finally pulled the chain off and opened it.
And there he was. It really was him. Keeping his face straight was the hardest thing Ingvar had ever had to do. Be cordial. Polite. Don’t be over-friendly, or you’ll piss him off.
“Hello, Finland. It’s…good to see you. I-Is there something you need?”
This would be tough.
|
template by synchronicity of OTE
|
|