A memory of sun [Iceland & Denmark]
Oct. 27th, 2018 09:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: A memory of sun
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters: Iceland and Denmark
Rating: 0+
Length: 250
Summary: The post has come in. Iceland and Denmark have a little talk.
Other: Set some time in the first half of the 19th century. Prompt was "oranges". Written for HWD drabble games.
A memory of sun
Denmark's study smelled like tea and paper and ink and citrus.
"Here," Denmark said, sliding a letter across the desk. "This one's for you."
It had already been opened and read.
Not that Iceland expected anything else.
The letter was just what he expected, too. "Why does Norway always write to me, and not to you?" Iceland asked as he looked it over.
What he actually wanted to ask was 'Why do you read my letters even when they aren't addressed to you', but he didn't think he'd get a real answer to that one.
"Huh! Well, you know him." And that wasn't a real answer, either.
The oranges had come in yesterday. Iceland could smell them from the other side of the desk, sitting bright and tempting on the tea tray next to the fine, pretty cups that always looked so fragile in Denmark's hands.
Denmark had taken one of those oranges up and was fidgeting with it. Peeling it, releasing that sharp scent into the air. Like he didn't want to think about Iceland's question.
Iceland glanced back down at the letter. Norway just wrote about personal things, trivial things, so why...?
A long exhale. "Guess he has his reasons for doing what he does," Denmark said finally. He sectioned the orange and offered half of it. "Never mind. Here, have some of this."
It tasted sweet and sunny, and Iceland knew he would miss that when it faded.
They both missed a lot of things, these days.
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters: Iceland and Denmark
Rating: 0+
Length: 250
Summary: The post has come in. Iceland and Denmark have a little talk.
Other: Set some time in the first half of the 19th century. Prompt was "oranges". Written for HWD drabble games.
A memory of sun
Denmark's study smelled like tea and paper and ink and citrus.
"Here," Denmark said, sliding a letter across the desk. "This one's for you."
It had already been opened and read.
Not that Iceland expected anything else.
The letter was just what he expected, too. "Why does Norway always write to me, and not to you?" Iceland asked as he looked it over.
What he actually wanted to ask was 'Why do you read my letters even when they aren't addressed to you', but he didn't think he'd get a real answer to that one.
"Huh! Well, you know him." And that wasn't a real answer, either.
The oranges had come in yesterday. Iceland could smell them from the other side of the desk, sitting bright and tempting on the tea tray next to the fine, pretty cups that always looked so fragile in Denmark's hands.
Denmark had taken one of those oranges up and was fidgeting with it. Peeling it, releasing that sharp scent into the air. Like he didn't want to think about Iceland's question.
Iceland glanced back down at the letter. Norway just wrote about personal things, trivial things, so why...?
A long exhale. "Guess he has his reasons for doing what he does," Denmark said finally. He sectioned the orange and offered half of it. "Never mind. Here, have some of this."
It tasted sweet and sunny, and Iceland knew he would miss that when it faded.
They both missed a lot of things, these days.
