queenoflogs | Failed domesticity

The water hadn't gotten any warmer since the change of the season, and Prussia acknowledged that with a yelp. Perhaps she was fortunate that most of her dry clothes were already on the bank, but it left her with the white shirt, completely soaked once she spluttered out of the water.

"You're vicious," she gasped out.

"Vicious?" England question. Wasn't that a bit harsh? "You've fought in wars and you can't stand a little cold water?" She scooted a bit closer to Prussia, thinking if they stayed closer they would get warmer.

"That was a compliment," Prussia explained, defensively. And water was definitely different. Being wet was never pleasant. She could feel her hair clinging to her back, and she reached back instinctively to wring the water out.

England watched Prussia with interest, smiling softly and tilting her head. She loved the water, even though she couldn't swim in it. She'd always be a pirate at heart. Though she would have to remember not everyone was as fond of it as her.

She finally got to her feet, water dropping from her skirt down her bare legs, and held out her hand to help Prussia up. "C'mon. Perhaps I can conjure up a hair dryer."

"A what?" Incredulous tone aside, she took the hand with no complaints. This particular shirt was a lost cause, and everything else (save for the jacket snatched by the wind) was still drying. She was long due for a bath, anyway, Prussia thought ruefully.

"I should have expected to get wet, what with washing clothes and everything," she grumbled to herself. Conjuring garments out of dirt was never her strong point.

On the other hand, thanks to Ukraine, England had practically mastered the art of making clothes. And, as soon as the nations were on land, she crouched into the dirt and formed two large, soft bathrobes for them (Prussia's blue, and England's olive green) as well as a few towels so that they could dry their cold bodies. The use of magic anywhere did not frighten her as it most likely did Prussia.

"A hair dryer," she said in response, forgetting that Prussia would not know what that was. She handed the towels and bathrobe to her companion. "It's a piece of equipment used to dry hair. Technology, you know? It blows out warm air. I think you will like it." At least she hoped so.

Wrapping herself in the luxurious comfort of the robe, Prussia plopped onto her front over the towel, sighing with happiness at the coveted dryness. Her eyes were closed as she listened to England's explanation, as it did sound like heaven to her. Austria had seemed antiquated as ever, and there was little aside from the Vine to expose Prussia to modern pleasures.

"You must all think I'm very old, having to ask questions like that," she murmured, relishing the thought of hot air blowing through her locks.

Once England had removed some of her clothes, dried off, and put on the robe, she began to draw something else in the ground. "I don't think you're old," England replied. "Especially considering I'm older than you, and now I'm even older since I'm from the future." After a bit of magical light, another object formed from the dirt. It was a retro hair dryer, cordless, with batteries so England wouldn't have to plug it in. She didn't even know if there was a place around her to plug it in. Another object that popped up, just a simple brush.

"Just sit down... On the towel, or something. make yourself comfortable."

"I am comfortable like this," with her forehead cushioned on her linked arms, Prussia could have been sunbathing in the cool autumn sun had she an inkling of the concept of sunbathing. Her damp hair stuck to her bare back, and she bent a leg at the knee, swinging it back and forth as she tried to listen to nothing but the faint chirping of birds overhead.

"It's nice and peaceful, isn't it?" she mused aloud, her tone tilted just so in a question to England. Peace was a luxury, but wouldn't it nice to have that just for an afternoon in this place? And she didn't have to worry about alliances or enmities for once, enjoying someone's company for it was. Perhaps Canada was right, after all.

England smiled a bit, almost melancholy, and took a seat at Prussia's side. "Yeah, I suppose it is..." She turned on the hair dryer and warm air hit Prussia's back as England began to dry and comb it. She would stop if it made the other uncomfortable. But Prussia would not have to worry about getting warm fast if she allowed England to continue.

She gave a start upon hearing the whirring noise at first, before forcing herself to relax to both the noise and the fingers combing through her hair. The warm air felt entirely all too pleasant, and she tilted her head this way and that along with England's gentle tugs.

For a moment, she got a glimpse of much younger fingers playing clumsily with her hair, and she waited for the noise to abate before speaking, "Do you ever miss it? Miss being back? You've been here quite a while, already."

"Of course I do," replied England without hesitation, speaking just a little bit louder over the noise. "My goal is always to return home." As much fun as the magic was here, she still felt... trapped. This was not her home, and she hadn't even had been here as long as most of the other people. Prussia must have been even more frustrated.

...Oh. Prussia. England's eyes glazed over for a brief moment. She lowered her voice. "But. There are some things I like about being here... I suppose."

"I hate it here," Prussia retorted, without missing a beat. Her freshly dried fringe hid the dark look in her eyes as she shifted to rest her head on her arms, "Any more of this and I'll be inclined to think I could be human..."

The thought made her sit up to brush her hair off her shoulders with satisfaction. For some reason, it was easier to talk to England about what ran through her mind. The others, though...

"I've had enough of things I know I can't possess," she explained, finally.

They had a history together, so perhaps that was why it was a little easier to communicate. Plus they had a lot in common. At least, England liked to think that they did. She moved back a little, turning off the hair dryer and making a few more swipes through the long silver hair with the brush.

"You've possessed many things already," England teased. Though she agreed wholeheartedly. She had had countless losses in her life, which was part of the reason she preferred to hide alone on her island. But when it came to Prussia, England realized early on how difficult it was to stay away from her. Sometimes she feared that she seemed to clingy. But it was wonderful to be around her again, just the two of them. England worried about pushing her away, so it was best that they talked about things they agreed upon.

"But it's always what I can't have that I want the most," she confessed, shifting so her hair would be within England's reach. It was comfortable. She'd only allowed Germany that before, but young Germany had been the only one to reach out to her so naturally before.

The robe had slid off her shoulders in her movement, but her neck was still fairly warm from all the air blown against it for her to notice the growing chill. "It's about wanting more. Isn't that what keeps us alive?" she looked over a bare shoulder at England, the distance between them having been shortened with the change in Prussia's position.

For a moment, England couldn't speak. She had to close her eyes and take in a deep breath to keep herself from admitting her feelings by doing something stupid like blushing.

"I suppose you are right. And I guess that's what makes it fun."

"The moment we stop wanting, we die. Perhaps it's not so different from fighting," this logic of hers skipped the expanse of history other had had through neutrality or indifference, but Prussia had never been a fan of either. She reached forward for England's pale, long hair, taking one damp lock between her fingers, "And I bet you've wanted something desperately, before."

"You don't know how badly," she replied without meaning to. But England could not help herself, especially when Prussia was looking at her like that. She loved America, she loved France (much to her disgust), but even more, she loved Prussia. It was a different kind of love, a burning want, the want that Prussia was talking about. And the other nation had always seemed so impossible to catch, always doing her own thing, sometimes within an arm's reach, and sometimes miles away. She drove England crazy in so many ways.

That reply was unexpected, but Prussia had never been one to read in advance into one's reactions. She knew she was shallow like that, and she had never given it much thought before. The earnest, sharp response took her by surprise.

She blinked once, noting how the damp end of England's hair was still wrapped about her fingers. What had she been getting at before? Quietly, she stroked a thumb across the sleek texture. England's eyes were still close, fine, delicate lines touched her pale lids.

"I suppose I was right, after all."

England quickly averted her eyes, embarrassed, and knowing her blush gave her away. Don't tease me, she thought, just waiting for Prussia to laugh the whole awkward tension off. This was serious to her, had been for centuries. And now it was so close, England could almost taste it.

She should have pulled away right then and there, like she always did. It was a defense mechanism, a way to keep herself from getting hurt again. Did she dare risk chasing Prussia away? By admitting her feelings, would she ruin what friendship they already had? It scared England how easily she would give in to the other country.

"So..." she finally managed to squeak out, still keeping her gaze down. "What else do you want that you can't have?"

"Lovers," Prussia admitted all too easily. The comfortable display of shallowness came to her with ease, so naturally, "power, land, fame. Whatever isn't in my hands currently. We're never satisfied for long, but it's a start, and it sates something."

She looked away, however, her fingers relaxing around England's hair. It was really lovers that she couldn't have.

And England had to keep herself from blurting out anything that might give her away, lest Prussia consider her weak. Instead, she teased, another defense mechanism.

"Lovers? Someone like you is concerned with such a trivial thing as that?" She grinned, lifting her head again. "I didn't think you had the capacity to care for someone other than yourself."

"And why should I?" she made a show of adjusting her new robe over her shoulders once more. "The amount of work, really! Being adored, on the other hand, I would never refuse that. It's trivial, but I can be greedy like that," she continued, undisturbed by this stream of honesty. Now, to specify the source of affection would have been another, tongue tying matter entirely.

A typical Prussia example. England brought her knuckles to her lips, chuckling slightly. "So, just the sex without the commitment." Blunt.

"I'm not Austria," she sighed theatrically, "I wasn't made for wedding rings, but I do have my needs."

Failed domesticity

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lol that icon is so appropriate

It's just too cute ;;

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