Contest Entry: Drabble: Music of the Soul
Title: Music of the Soul
Rating:PG
Genre: Romance?
Prompt(s)/Theme(s): Youth, Hands, Cultural Exchange
Characters/Pairings: Austria/Hungary
Summary: They are not people; they are so much more and so much less.
Words: 296
Notes: I'm sorry about any typos, this was a quick entry. I hope this makes sense to other people, sometimes I'm like that.
Hungary smiles and she isn't simply herself. It's a melting overlap of age and wisdom and youth. The cries of a nation ring in her laugh. Austria holds his hand out to her and she steps forward with hoof-beats and war-cries. Austria's nod rings of music and culture and years of creativity.
And they do not love as humans, any more than they will die as them. She can love him and hate him and want him all at once. She can feel a multitude of emotions without a single contradiction. She isn't just in a ballroom. She is in Austria's heart, even as she is holding his hand.
The music of Austria's piano is nothing compared to that of his footsteps. They come together and he whispers, “One, two, three,” and she hears it in his voice and movements-- she hears it in his people. She holds him to her and she can hear his heart beating perfectly in time. It isn't a single beat, but millions of hearts pounding together. She feels her own people respond.
His hands are beautiful where they touch her. She feels their cultures molding together for that brief moment and savors the sensation. She can be herself, even as she is him. Small knuckles, daintier than her own callused palms and so very soft. He is an artist. She can feel the art and literature, and oh God she can hear the music in her very soul.
She wonders if her people even notice, as Austria dips her and her hair flutters around her blushing face. She hopes they do. Her people deserve to feel these moments of happiness. She isn't sure who she's speaking to, perhaps it is everyone, when she murmurs, “Love you so much.”
Rating:PG
Genre: Romance?
Prompt(s)/Theme(s): Youth, Hands, Cultural Exchange
Characters/Pairings: Austria/Hungary
Summary: They are not people; they are so much more and so much less.
Words: 296
Notes: I'm sorry about any typos, this was a quick entry. I hope this makes sense to other people, sometimes I'm like that.
Hungary smiles and she isn't simply herself. It's a melting overlap of age and wisdom and youth. The cries of a nation ring in her laugh. Austria holds his hand out to her and she steps forward with hoof-beats and war-cries. Austria's nod rings of music and culture and years of creativity.
And they do not love as humans, any more than they will die as them. She can love him and hate him and want him all at once. She can feel a multitude of emotions without a single contradiction. She isn't just in a ballroom. She is in Austria's heart, even as she is holding his hand.
The music of Austria's piano is nothing compared to that of his footsteps. They come together and he whispers, “One, two, three,” and she hears it in his voice and movements-- she hears it in his people. She holds him to her and she can hear his heart beating perfectly in time. It isn't a single beat, but millions of hearts pounding together. She feels her own people respond.
His hands are beautiful where they touch her. She feels their cultures molding together for that brief moment and savors the sensation. She can be herself, even as she is him. Small knuckles, daintier than her own callused palms and so very soft. He is an artist. She can feel the art and literature, and oh God she can hear the music in her very soul.
She wonders if her people even notice, as Austria dips her and her hair flutters around her blushing face. She hopes they do. Her people deserve to feel these moments of happiness. She isn't sure who she's speaking to, perhaps it is everyone, when she murmurs, “Love you so much.”