The Baltic Knight has returned.
Everything seems so foreign and strange, and yet, it's the same apartment he was taken from years ago, when Ivan came. It's not as dusty as it should have been; Mingxia must have come to take care of the flat in his absence.
He examines each piece of art, each stick of furniture cautiously, as though becoming reacquainted with a friend whose name he had just forgotten. As he shuffles through the apartment and grows accustomed to it once more, a wave of nothingness washes over him:
Lithuania is home, back in the place that he once called his own, before being forced to live with the rest of the Soviet Union.
Now, with Braginski's hold on the satellite states broken, Toris feels... nothing. The lifted weight of the Iron Curtain leaves him free, calm... numb.
He makes his way to his bed, legs moving on their own. Giving a waiting Taiwan a tiny nod of acknowledgment, he collapses into the sheets before the decades of oppression let themselves out. He doesn't feel the sting of exhausted, relieved tears being muffled by his pillow, or the slight weight pressing into the edge of the mattress as Mingxia sits beside him and her tiny hands stroke his back soothingly.
He can feel none of it, and never has nothing felt so blissful or pure.
 xo indigold · Thu Jun 17, 2010 @ 09:37am · 0 Comments |
