Work Text:
Louise rubbed her hands together, shivering. This never happened. She was always prepared. Yet somehow, the thought of bringing a scarf or gloves outside had not crossed her mind. She just didn’t get it. It was winter, in Canada, of course it was going to be cold.
She sighed in frustration, speeding up. Stupid world meeting, stupid cold, and stupid her for not planning properly in advance.
“Hey! Germany, wait!”
She stopped and turned around, seeing a shorter woman running to catch up with her. A shorter, beautiful woman with glasses and an angelic, matter-of-fact voice laced with the thickest British accent you’d ever hear – one Louise found her heart beating just a tad bit faster at each time she heard. Alice bent slightly over, wheezing for air. “I thought that was you I saw,” she panted, “damn! You’re a fast walker.”
“Courtesy of having long legs,” Louise said, tilting her head slightly.
“And your insane work-out routine helps too, no doubt.”
“That too.” Louise observed Alice, amazed at how she always managed to dress so … lady-like. Elegant. Yet still appropriate for the weather, she thought frustratedly, harshly reminded of the biting cold. Alice could be cropped out and pasted into a fashion column and nobody would notice a thing.
They stood for a bit, awkwardly staring before Louise remembered that she could no longer feel her toes. She teared her gaze from Alice’s and started up her steady pace again. The snow crunched beneath their feet as the Brit tried to keep up.
“You know,” Alice remarked, “the meeting starts in 20 minutes. We don’t need to hurry.”
“I know. I just like to be punctual.”
“You always are, and this is way more than punctual.”
Louise hesitated. “And I’m a little cold. I’d like to get inside as quickly as possible.” She wasn’t. She was very cold.
“Oh?” Alice stopped. Grabbed Louise's hand, and gasped. “You’re freezing! Why didn’t you take any gloves with you?”
“I forgot.”
Alice shook her head in exasperation. She took off her green scarf and wrapped it around Louise’s throat, despite her weak protests. Louise may have been taking deep breaths to inhale as much of Alice’s scent as possible, but not even Russia would have been able to torture that information out of her. She thanked the Gods and heaven above that her cheeks were already red from the cold.
Cold, pale hands with long fingers were held tenderly by Alice’s, and Louise could feel her breath hitch. Who would’ve thought that a dream could come true on a random tuesday’s morning? Without any effort? Alice rubbed their hands carefully together to create warmth. But Louise knew that the heat inside her that grew every second she touched Alice was more than enough.
Then the warmth was abruptly cut off. “We need to get you inside, I am not carrying your dead body.”
Ah. “Right.”
Louise mourned the loss of touch as they got going.
Once they were inside, Alice ran off to greet Madeline, not giving Louise a chance to return her scarf. She could not deny the sting of hurt, but it was fine. Besides – the scarf presented an opportunity at starting up a conversation after the meeting, and that must count for something, right?
She fooled nobody. She would not be able to make small talk with anybody, let alone someone who made her anxious as Alice did.
So that’s how she spent the meeting. Trying her very best to add something worthwhile to the discussions (arguments) and prevent (violent) fights, while trying not to overthink about green eyes and scarves and an angelic voice that made her weak at the knees. It did not go well.
Turns out, she did not need to approach Alice.
“Germany, please hold on a second.” A hand touched her shoulder, making her skin tingle. “I don’t want you to walk in the cold without proper winter clothes.”
Louise’s eyes met a green gaze that pinned her in place. “That’s fine, England. The hotel is not too far.”
Alice shook her head. “You can drive with Madeline and I, I own a house here you can stay at.”
“... Are you asking me to stay with you overnight?”
“If you’d like to, that is.” Was Alice blushing?
“No, England, I wouldn’t want to be a bother–”
“You’re not! Please.”
And how could she ever say no to those pleading eyes?
A bright grin widened across Alice’s face. “Great!”
After a slightly awkward car drive with Alice and her former colony, they reached a nice house. Madeline dropped them off, Louise waved stiffly goodbye and Alice told her to drive safely.
So here she was. Maybe not at Alice’s main home in Britain, but still a house she owned. Julchen would never believe Louise when she said she had managed to score. Or, maybe she wouldn’t say anything, the teasing would be endless.
Louise liked the atmosphere of the house. It smelled faintly of pastries and of Alice (and she despised how stalker-ish that sounded).
“Make yourself at home, I’ll light up the fireplace,” Alice's voice echoed against the walls.
Make yourself at home. If you asked Louise, she would feel right at home in Alice’s arms, in her bed, wrapped in a warm and cozy blanket–
She made her way around the house, looking into the kitchen. A large table stood in the dining room. “England?” she yelled. A small noise of confirmation, then she asked “do you often get visitors?”
A pause. “Why?”
“Just wondering why the table is so huge if you’re not here often.”
Alice entered the room with a small, fond smile on her face. “I sometimes eat dinner with Madeline, Amelia and Frances here. We make an effort to do so once every few months.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“Not really. If we try not to argue, we just end up sitting in silence.”
Louise gave a small smile in reply. Alice reddened. “Anyway! The guestroom is down the hall to the left, if you need anything make sure to ask, alright?”
“Right.”
And that was that. Not even dinner together. Not even watching a movie together. She went home with the love of her life, and didn’t even use this golden opportunity. She was such a failure. What a cruel world. Julchen would never let her live this down.
She spent the night tossing around, half-asleep, feeling dizzy and way too hot, mourning her lack of initiative. Why, why, why?
Next time she awoke, she felt a caring hand tenderly touch her forehead, and she sighed contentedly. She could die happy.
“You have a fever.” She did? “Germany, how are you doing?” How was she doing? Would be doing considerably better if she could just be tightly wrapped in this person’s loving arms and sung back to sleep by this angelic voice–
A sigh was heard. “I cannot possibly let you fly back to Germany in this state.”
Oh. Right, she was in Canada. For … world meeting, yes. Ugh.
She furrowed her eyebrows in pain when an enormous headache hit.
“Try to relax, alright? I’ll get you some food and–”
Louise grabbed the wrist of the hand that was just leaving her forehead. “No. Stay.”
“Germany–”
“Please?”
“...How could I ever say no to you, love?”