it's a violet way we have

[handelaar]

CHARACTERS: Russia, Netherlands
LOCATION: 002 » 183
WARNINGS: D U M B
SUMMARY: Insomnia's a bitch.



Something like three in the morning finds Netherlands softy rapping against Russia's door, clad all in black - generic ship t-shirt, generic ship underwear, generic ship crew socks - too rumpled and exhausted to bother with bringing Lodewijk along. He'd showered hours ago, picked through a few items in the kitchen before giving up on food, finally tucked into bed with his rabbit and ended up keeping the poor fuzzball awake as he tried to shift into a position that didn't remind him of being watched.

He was hoping that a few weeks of sleeping elsewhere would be enough. Apparently not.

Comments

[za_rodina]

There's something of a relieved little noise and Russia is instantly pressing as close as he can, nosing at the line of scars at Netherlands' jaw as he wraps his arms around him and shifts to get comfortable. This close he can feel the steady beat of his heart, relaxes in that little pitter-patter of a tune.

"'s why you sleep in the gardens." It's not a question, because he understands, but Russia likes confirmation anyway. His hand settles across shoulder blade, offers up some of his skant warmth in a silent way of saying 'I'm here', as if Netherlands didn't know. There's not much he can say to that, not much that wouldn't push it, so in the end maybe he's just a bit blunt too and that's all Netherlands' influence right there.

"How long's it been like that?"

[handelaar]

A grunt for confirmation, but that's as far as sleeping in the gardens goes. At least what he'll say; it's nice in some ways, because he spends more time there than anywhere else on the ship, but there's a question and he's content enough to let conversation slip in and out and go where it will. He doesn't think anything he says will drive the feeling away - will drive Russia away - not when they're like this. So he answers without any hesitation, a low, sleepy murmur.

"Used to talk to... used to fall asleep with it on."

The mask, of course, and sure he knows that Russia's more than dabbled with his own after that conversation over the sinks, but that's not really what's on his mind. He's telling a story before bed, and they're both used to the darker versions of those. It's easier to talk about it like that, anyway, keeps them both distant from it even if the story might be about themselves in more ways than one.

[za_rodina]

He doesn't need anything else really, because it was more of a rhetoric question, something to fill the silence as he pressed close. Netherlands is really warm though (not that that's difficult, because Russia always was colder) and so there's a soft little murmur of understanding against his neck and little else.

There's something of curiosity though, because Russia wants to know how the mask affects someone other than him.

"Did it help?" He assumes not, because well, Netherlands is in his room after all, but still. A story is a story, in the end, and Russia had always held darker tales close to his chest. It's part of the reason he's still somewhat wary of his mask, even if he uses it increasingly.

[handelaar]

"Good for sleeping. Mornings sucked." And now, of course, it sucks. One long drawn out perpetual hangover of a morning after a fever dream haze of drugs and addictive escapism. He should probably clarify that, too, but as he starts a yawn comes to the forefront and all he ends up doing is pulling Russia closer. Or at least attempts to.

"Fuckin' cold, asshole."

It comes out like a goodnight.

[za_rodina]

"Mm, sucks." Yeah, understatement of the year right there, Russia. But Netherlands doesn't have to elaborate, can keep some measure of secret close to his chest even if anybody on 002 could have spelled the weed. The yawn has a smirk tugging at his lips and he easily yields to the attempt at tugginh him closer.

He still snorts at the cold comment though, "Can't help that."