Never Assume [Czechia/Norway]
Feb. 7th, 2015 04:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: Never Assume
Characters/Pairing: Czech Republic/Norway
Rating: 10+
Length: 450
Summary: Norway thinks she's hinting at something, but he doesn't know how wrong he is.
Other: This was a response to a tumblr request: "Czechia and Norway, noticing mismatched socks". (Original post)
Never Assume
She'd been staring at him all afternoon. Well, more like glances from across the room. Their eyes would meet, she'd smile, and then she'd glance away, pretending to pay attention to whatever was going on up front.
Very distracting. In fact, Norway hadn't found anyone so distracting at a world meeting in years. Not personally, at least.
It had started with the break for coffee. Normally he wouldn't spare anyone from Central Europe a second look, especially not when he had other things on his mind, but as he shrugged on his coat to head to the cafe across the street, he'd caught her sweeping her gaze downward, then back up to his face again.
Norway's insides twisted. Did she mean something by it? Was she hinting at something? There wasn't any other reason for it, he was sure. It wasn't as if he and Czech were close; there was no reason for her to look at him like that unless-
He glanced over at her again. She winked. He could feel his face heating up, and pretended it was nothing.
...Well, Norway thought. She's attractive. And the few times they had talked, she had been nice enough. Maybe he could - hell, it might be nice if -
Through the rest of that damned meeting, he rehearsed the words over in his head. The invitation. Dinner. Yes. A simple enough plan. Nothing too fancy. And the rest - well, he wasn't going to get ahead of himself.
But when he went to Czech after it was over, thankful that she was alone, it didn't go right. The words on the tip of his tongue, but she was the one to speak first.
"Well, mister Norway," she said, her tone light, almost teasing. "Did you get dressed in the dark today?"
"I was thinking -" It took him a moment to catch up with what she said, the carefully-rehearsed invitation going down the drain as he stared at her. "What?"
Czech raised an eyebrow at him, then pointedly looked down. And kept looking down.
This time, Norway wasn't going to flatter himself with assumptions about what she was looking at. He followed her gaze - and looked down at his feet.
...Socks. One was black. The other was bright orange. He cleared his throat.
"Matter've fact," he said slowly, "I did get dressed in the dark, thanks."
"It shows. I could've seen your socks a kilometre away. But - never mind that!" She reached out, and tilted his chin upward, making him look at her. "Yes, dinner sounds lovely."
"Um-"
"It was written all over your face."
The smile she gave him, as far as Norway was concerned, was worth the embarrassment.
Characters/Pairing: Czech Republic/Norway
Rating: 10+
Length: 450
Summary: Norway thinks she's hinting at something, but he doesn't know how wrong he is.
Other: This was a response to a tumblr request: "Czechia and Norway, noticing mismatched socks". (Original post)
Never Assume
She'd been staring at him all afternoon. Well, more like glances from across the room. Their eyes would meet, she'd smile, and then she'd glance away, pretending to pay attention to whatever was going on up front.
Very distracting. In fact, Norway hadn't found anyone so distracting at a world meeting in years. Not personally, at least.
It had started with the break for coffee. Normally he wouldn't spare anyone from Central Europe a second look, especially not when he had other things on his mind, but as he shrugged on his coat to head to the cafe across the street, he'd caught her sweeping her gaze downward, then back up to his face again.
Norway's insides twisted. Did she mean something by it? Was she hinting at something? There wasn't any other reason for it, he was sure. It wasn't as if he and Czech were close; there was no reason for her to look at him like that unless-
He glanced over at her again. She winked. He could feel his face heating up, and pretended it was nothing.
...Well, Norway thought. She's attractive. And the few times they had talked, she had been nice enough. Maybe he could - hell, it might be nice if -
Through the rest of that damned meeting, he rehearsed the words over in his head. The invitation. Dinner. Yes. A simple enough plan. Nothing too fancy. And the rest - well, he wasn't going to get ahead of himself.
But when he went to Czech after it was over, thankful that she was alone, it didn't go right. The words on the tip of his tongue, but she was the one to speak first.
"Well, mister Norway," she said, her tone light, almost teasing. "Did you get dressed in the dark today?"
"I was thinking -" It took him a moment to catch up with what she said, the carefully-rehearsed invitation going down the drain as he stared at her. "What?"
Czech raised an eyebrow at him, then pointedly looked down. And kept looking down.
This time, Norway wasn't going to flatter himself with assumptions about what she was looking at. He followed her gaze - and looked down at his feet.
...Socks. One was black. The other was bright orange. He cleared his throat.
"Matter've fact," he said slowly, "I did get dressed in the dark, thanks."
"It shows. I could've seen your socks a kilometre away. But - never mind that!" She reached out, and tilted his chin upward, making him look at her. "Yes, dinner sounds lovely."
"Um-"
"It was written all over your face."
The smile she gave him, as far as Norway was concerned, was worth the embarrassment.
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