soft like a snowflake

The Balcony

Ivan was feeling lonely again. The guys at the meetings were polite to him, but he didn't consider them friends. He was almost positive they were only nice to him because they were scared of him. They have no reason to be afraid of me. Sure my sense of humor is a little dark, but I don't mean any harm.
The meeting had gotten rowdy as usual, France and England at each other's throats, America egging them on and Germany trying to tear them apart.
He suddenly felt eyes on him, and he looked up. Across the table sat Canada, who was looking at him and smiling warmly. Ivan smiled back. Canada jumped, but a huge grin spread across his face.
"You noticed me?!"
"Da, of course. You were staring."
"O-oh. I'm sorry. It's just- they kinda ignore you too. I thought if anyone needed a friend- well, it would be you."
Ivan paused. Canada wanted to be his friend? He wasn't scared?
"You do not think I'm... scary?
"You don't think I'm invisible." He replied flatly, as if Ivan were asking a stupid question.
"Fair enough."
"Look, being invisible is a blessing and a curse. I've observed everyone in this room for as long as I've been here. I know you keep a flask in your coat pocket that's full of vodka, and you drink from it when someone mentions that you're scary. I know you linger behind after every meeting because the 'main guys' don't trust you to walk with them."
"You notice all that? And you still want to be my friend?"
"Well... yeah. Everyone needs someone who's nice to them. And living in my brother's shadow doesn't exactly make me any friends."
"Alright then."
"Wanna get out of here? They won't notice if I'm gone, and they won't try and stop you."
"Da."
Ivan wasn't sure why shy little Canada would want to be friends with him, but maybe being an outcast himself, he saw Russia as more than what everyone else did. Regardless, he was happy to have company.

The spring air on the balcony felt good to Ivan, warmer than what he was used to back home. America had that going for him. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and offered one to Canada.
"Oh no thanks. Alfred says I shouldn't smoke."
"Do you always live by your big brother's rules?"
"No, but sometimes he says something that's not utter nonsense."
Ivan laughed. He had a hearty chuckle, a sound unlike any other Matthew had ever heard.
"What's your name, Russia?"
"Ivan. Ivan Braginski."
"I'm Matthew."
Francis had come looking for Matthew. He always noticed him. He had raised him and Matthew thought of him as his papa.
"What are you doing to mon petit Matthieu!?" He shrieked, stepping between them.
"Francis, I invited him out here. He looked like he could use a friend."
Matthew spoke through gritted teeth, as if telling Francis now was not the time to play the overprotective parent.
"Fine. But I'm watching you, Braginski." The bite of disapproval in Francis's voice didn't bother him. He knew Francis was harmless unless Matthew got hurt, and Ivan had no such intentions.
With that made clear, he exited as quickly as he arrived, his cloak fluttering behind him.
"Is your whole family this protective of you, little maple-leaf?"
"I'd like to say no, but you've met them. I'm grateful they care, even if they can be a tiny bit overbearing." He let out a soft sigh.
"It's easy to get upset when they baby me sometimes, but I know I'd miss it if they ever stopped. It just means they love me in their own special way."
Ivan smiled, thinking fondly of times with Katyusha coddling him after Gilbert and those Nordic bullies used to chase him. He missed her warmth now that they've grown distant, and he understands why Matthew is grateful for his family, even if they are not always perfect.
"Do you see the good in everything?"
"I try to."
Ivan nodded. Matthew was genuinely kind. He had no ulterior motives, it seemed. He couldn't help but admire that despite being forgotten and ignored, Matthew always stayed positive and saw the good in people.
"Ivan, can I tell you something?"
"Da, go ahead."
"I don't think you're a monster."
"Of course you don't. You're observant. And you are the glass half full type, nyet?"
Matthew smiled. He assumed that was a compliment in Russia's own way.
Ivan checked his watch, and gave a sad half smile.
"Meetings over, little maple-leaf. Time to go."
"Can I walk out with you? So you don't have to go alone?"
"I would like that Matthew."

A week later, at the next meeting, Matthew arrived extra early. He smiled politely when Yao let him in. Yao was always first to arrive, and Matthew suspected he spent the night there just to beat everyone. Ludwig was already there as well, Arthur was sipping tea and reading a newspaper, and Francis was brushing his hair and making kissy faces at his reflection in a gilded hand mirror.
Ivan was there. Matthew felt his breath hitch when he saw him. He looked up from his book and saw Matthew, and offered him a warm smile. Matthew's cheeks grew pink. Ivan laughed, that deep, hearty laugh, and motioned him to sit next to him.
"Allo, Matt. You look nice today, is that a new shirt?"
"Yeah, it is! Thank you... you look nice too."
He smiled. Matthew noticed it was different than the polite grin he wore when the others spoke to him, it was more soft, more genuine.
Ivan was actually happy to be going to the meeting today. His chest no longer felt empty. Matthew was his first real friend, aside from the Baltics, but he didn't really count that. Matthew was kind, and although soft-spoken, he was an excellent conversationalist when he warmed up to someone.
Monday morning came too slowly for Ivan. He dressed as quickly as possible, shaking his ash blonde hair until it settled into its regular style. He carefully wrapped his ivory scarf around his neck to cover the faded, yet ever-present scars on his neck. Matthew didn't need to know- not yet. He'd arrived before Yao, pacing the corridor until he appeared.
"Aiyah! Ivan?"
"I could not sleep." He offered with a shrug, and Yao gave a suspicious nod. He didn't have any reason to pry. Ivan had always been odd, anyhow.
He pulled a novel from his coat and started reading, letting Yao know conversation wouldn't be necessary.
He felt his heart jump every time the door opened after that. He was cautious to pretend to read, and glance up as if the noise disturbed him, just in case it wasn't Matthew. He found his method to be successful. Every time he thought of Matthew, he felt himself smile.

The rest of the guys arrived, along with Miss Hungary, dragging a winded Austria behind her.
The meeting started with Alfred going on about how if they brought back the dinosaurs they could train them as military vehicles and weapons in one, and Arthur was yelling at him for wasting precious time with his nonsense. Ivan gripped Matthew's knee firmly and nodded his head to the door. Matthew nodded, relief flooding his wide eyes.
They found themselves on the balcony again, a cigarette hanging from Ivan's mouth. Ivan didn't smoke often, but any excuse to leave the meeting with Matthew was fine by him.
Matthew still politely declined. It was breezy today, Matthew's golden curls fluttering against his pale face. Ivan couldn't help but notice Matthew's soft features, those big sad eyes especially. He no longer looked innocent to Ivan, though. He knew him better. He might've looked soft, but he was no baby. He was a young man now, and it showed.
He reached a large gloved hand out to brush against Matthew's jaw, Matthew jumping like he'd been shot at.
"Ah, Mattvey, I'm sorry- you looked so beautiful."
"O-oh. It's okay, it just startled me is all. Wait- me? Beautiful? Are those cigarettes getting to you?"
Ivan laughed, before turning to cup Matthew's cheek.
"Why do you deny that you are beautiful? You do not think you are, not even a little bit?"
"I think Alfred is. He got the better parts of our genetics. The smooth hair, tan skin, those energetic blue eyes. I'm like his sad shadow."
"You aren't his shadow, Matthew. You are your own person, and just because you cannot see that you also are beautiful does not mean that you are not. You may not look like Alfred, but that is what makes you so special, da? You are like the angelic version, with a kind, sweet, soul."
Matthew felt his face grow hot, a catch in his throat. He had always been Alfred's shadow, always hearing 'You look so much like him, why are you so shy? Alfred's not shy! Be more like Alfred!' And everything else about how he was like the diet version of Al.
Ivan was sincere, though. He threw himself into Ivan's chest, tears dampening the bottom of Ivan's scarf. Ivan held him closely, and let the boy cry. He meant every word too, he really saw Matthew like an angel. He was so kind and hopeful. Matthew was a much stronger man than he was, and his open crying was not a weakness in Ivan's eyes. It was strength.