yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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metamorphosis2010-03-17 04:00 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-03-17 04:00 pm
Entry tags:
48;
Title: It's Nice To Dream, Isn't It?
Characters: Spain, England
Rating: G
30smiles' prompt 'Camelot'.
They both know what it’s like to lose their Camelot.
England regards the other with near curiosity; Spain smiles and chats on, reminiscing on imperialistic days gone past. They sip their tea at the same time and he continues, animatedly using his hands to gesture his meanings. England can feel his eyes brimming with tears – days of the Empire, how fond he was of them – and looks down to conceal it. Spain pauses, then reaches over the table and gives him a pat on the shoulder.
“Maybe we’ll have our empires back one day.”
“Do you honestly believe so?”
“No. But it’s nice to dream, isn’t it?”
“Not when dreams as crushed as easily as Camelot.”
Spain presses his lips together in a thin, happy line, and shrugs nonchalantly.
“Maybe. I still dreamed you would be mine even when you crushed them.”
“Must you always feel nostalgia over those years?”
“I was under the impression you liked them, Inglaterra! After all, what could be better for you than pillaging innocent merchant ships?”
“Don’t get smart with me. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“What wasn’t? My dreams, or your piracy?”
“Never you mind.”
They exchange hard, stubborn looks; Spain shakes his head, muttering ‘Never mind’ and looking moody over his cup. England purses his lips, angry, and refills his cup.
“Don’t be in a sulk the rest of the day, Antonio. It doesn’t look good on you.”
Characters: Spain, England
Rating: G
30smiles' prompt 'Camelot'.
They both know what it’s like to lose their Camelot.
England regards the other with near curiosity; Spain smiles and chats on, reminiscing on imperialistic days gone past. They sip their tea at the same time and he continues, animatedly using his hands to gesture his meanings. England can feel his eyes brimming with tears – days of the Empire, how fond he was of them – and looks down to conceal it. Spain pauses, then reaches over the table and gives him a pat on the shoulder.
“Maybe we’ll have our empires back one day.”
“Do you honestly believe so?”
“No. But it’s nice to dream, isn’t it?”
“Not when dreams as crushed as easily as Camelot.”
Spain presses his lips together in a thin, happy line, and shrugs nonchalantly.
“Maybe. I still dreamed you would be mine even when you crushed them.”
“Must you always feel nostalgia over those years?”
“I was under the impression you liked them, Inglaterra! After all, what could be better for you than pillaging innocent merchant ships?”
“Don’t get smart with me. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“What wasn’t? My dreams, or your piracy?”
“Never you mind.”
They exchange hard, stubborn looks; Spain shakes his head, muttering ‘Never mind’ and looking moody over his cup. England purses his lips, angry, and refills his cup.
“Don’t be in a sulk the rest of the day, Antonio. It doesn’t look good on you.”