Work Text:
Hetalia (c) Hidekazu Himaruya
When the lift was parted itself, finding that she was waiting next to his room’s door, Jett smirked a bit. He stepped out trying not to be so-impatiently, just like how Lien waited for him. He expected the knacks of her heels as how usually women did whenever they were waiting for so long, though he didn’t find it and was greeted by her low-spirited gaze instead.
“You have the spare, right?” he pulled the card from his coat’s hidden pocket, placing onto the censor next to the doorknob, “why not making yourself at home?”
“Because this is not my home,” Lien followed him, stopped doing not-so-important thing on her smartphone and suddenly the gadget was forgotten by the time he turned on the light and she found the couch. “And not my room, too.”
He stifled his laughter but failed miserably, voicing it uncontrollably and the effect was her wrinkling nose. Was not the funny thing, he knew, but, yes, she was Lien (—his). The Asian. Sometimes reminded him of Kiku’s manner, but not that he put it as something negative, though.
“Drink?” he offered, standing in front of the fridge.
“Anything.”
Jett took two cans of soda. They only had five days here, including the meeting and the tours Alfred had offered as a part of ‘special vacation bonus package’, but sticky notes were spreading anywhere on the fridge’s door, merely just scribbles on them but they were to messy to read, as if he had been here for weeks.
“No tea here. Sorry. Got no time to heat the water,” he took the empty seat beside her, gaze shot to the mentioned heater opposite to them, on a small counter full by empty cans.
Thankfully the woman was not mind to have him this close with only two steps of index finger for their fingertips to touch each other.
Lien sipped only a bit after the bubbles disappeared much than she hoped for. “This is okay.” Another sip. Then her gaze fell to his tight white shirt, how his torso shaped was visible—not to mention his coat that he had never bother himself to button since the start of the meeting. And that loose wine-red tie. She was not aware her gulping was heard, but be thankful to God Jett was not a type who would pay much attention to small things he considered as common.
(After all, she was a nation in a normal woman body, hormones was included.)
“And, so?” Jett shook his can, almost half of the contain had lost.
“Your decision?”
“I’m open since first,” he shrugged. His free hand seized the chance of playing with her bangs, pretending to comb it but actually he was just wanted to feel her, at least on forehead part. Last time doing so? He couldn’t exactly date it. Four-five weeks ago, it might be? When he accompanied her exercising her archery skill in the downtown area of Vietnam.
Still, a doubt was tangible, mostly in her eyes.
“Actually you can ask Alfred, too, if you doubt me.”
Suddenly she shook her head, “No.”
“Traumatic?” he smiled, in a way she didn’t think he could do. Gentle yet assuring. Iggy’s gene that had always been hiding, probably.
“Not like that,” she raised her eyebrows. Lien was stable, not losing any composure, proving that the subject didn’t weigh her enough yet she was seen so averse to talk more. “He is not a person I could not work together more than a week. He is good, I admit it. However, still, there is a spot in him, probably influenced by his boss and certain people, where I couldn’t fit myself in.”
“Hard to explain, huh?” Jett placed his can and shifted closer, she didn’t reluctant to accept his hand playing with her tips of hair, “you know something? Arthie often grunts that Alfred and I are the same person split in two bodies and continent. The way we raise our voice, he said one time. Not that I accept it wholefully, however.”
“I can sense it, but I can’t ... tell, perhaps?”
“It’s not the thing we should spend our time talking about, Lien, and now, when is the time? Have your government decided the date?”
“Near the spring in your place. If yours couldn’t make it, let’s discuss it now, my people, especially those in the military department trust me to make a private agreement with you today.”
He took her hand in his, “’Private’ sounds so fishy,” Jett giggled. “You sure that you pick the correct term?” and the foolish grin turned into a smirk, skew enough to show his real intention.
“... Shut up,” only a snort and face that was turned away to make him think that she was cute in her tsundere way, firstly, but when he spotted red hue on her cheeks, made his evil laugh to raise.
“Uhm, well, this winter I have been busy with joint practice with Alfred and Kiku’s people so ... I think spring is fine. No big plan has been decided to do near the spring, for your info. Nothing should be changed. Tell them I’m ready—uh, I mean, my people are.”
Her eyes easily found their way to his. He swore that she was smiling in seconds he hoped he could freeze. Not the way girls usually did, not like Mei’s smile, Kiku said in one occassion, that when she did it was likely to bring sunshine all over the world. Or Yekaterina’s which would give you an aura of a mature woman you could trust your distant future to. Or even anyone’s. There was Lien’s real identity there; with only small, almost invisible curve she could show her sincerity and wisdom of a part of Eastern’s honorable culture. Slight of mystery was found as a hint, but when she offered that little respecting manner, he thought that he had found the thing she had been hiding behind the curtain: her endearing side she was only willing to give to her important acquaintances, which were less than ten—he believed so.
He breathed in, and she was still staring at him. Breath out; still. Fatigue and boredness he had been bearing after previous (full-of-useless-bickering) meeting was burnt by her gaze. He was not fond of poesy and he knew he was exaggerating but, hey, who could deny the happiness a person you love gave? And most likely that almost people in love could write a love song even though they were previously a tone deaf and a user of harsh language in daily basis.
He cleared his throat. She broke the gaze, and hummed a short ‘humm’, led to him tightening the hold of their hands. But she took a deep breath, and slowly got rid of his grip—reluctantly he made it loose.
“I ... should go back to my room ...,” she smoothed her skirt (only her who had her knees covered, but he was proud of it, somehow. Southeast Asian. Yes. His.), and stood up.
“... Now?”
“Hmm.”
“Ah,” he scratched his back of head, reluctantly brought himself to his feet too, finally, and lazily threw a slightly disappointed smile, “too short—I mean ... tomorrow is going to be our last day in this hotel, so ....”
“We didn’t have any schedule tonight, right?”
“But who knows what’s in Alfred’s head? He may take us to Liberty Statue tour for the umpteenth time, though,” he tried to laugh in usual way but his voice resulted a rather hoarse one.
“Then we shouldn’t follow him. Just choode any place for a private dinner.”
Another eyes-to-eyes talk. He smiled in the best way he could do. She nodded, and started to take paces leaving.
“Ah, Lien, wait!”
The woman had reached the doorknob. Turned her head, he found his back facing her, digging into his jumbo travel bag. She waited, leaning on the brown door, thankfully it didn’t take so long.
“For you.” He stopped only circa two inches before her. His hands encircled her neck. “Found this when I skipped the last session of the first meeting in a jewel shop. Shattuckite.”
It was a silver pendant with turquoise-ish jewel, with amber-like tint and black also silvery with dark blue shine mixed with the main color, hanging on her green blazer after he clasped the chain on the back of her neck skillfully.
“... What is the name?”
“Shattuckite, is named after the place it was unearthed, in Bisbee, Arizona. People are usually looking for the jewels matched with eyes, but, no, you are nice with every color.”
Lien fumbled with the pendant, looking at the Shattuckite with gleaming eyes, only God knew how much Jett was infatuated with how it seemed.
“Oh—thanks,” she looked nervous, but forced herself to smile like before. “This is ...” her voice was so low, “... pretty.”
“You’re prettier,” he chuckled. Then closed the gap only by kissing her forehead, he knew the boundary, as she was not a type who would willingly accept skinship, moreover jump to him first; and he was patient for that.
“Thank you,” she smiled under his touch, unfortunately Jett closed his eyes when let his lips linger on her skin, failed to notice the treasure.
And before she opened the door, Lien pulled Jett’s arm, drew him closer than he would have expected from her, to plant her lips on his, chaste and mild. “See you tonight,” and she left the man in awe with her stoic facade as her mask.
Shattuckite was swinging, she didn’t care that it was so showy. This was more than she had obliged, and she was more than happy.