Well it's been forever since I wrote something. Actually had this idea in my head for awhile now but never wrote it down (till yesterday in class when I forgot my textbook…). Forgive me if it may sound cheesy, I pondered over how to make it not (and failed….).
A flower with many petals is a man that can take many lovers.- Chinese proverb
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"Sunflowers have numerous petals-aru"
Yao was musing one day, back when he was still living with Ivan. At the time the Russian simple nodded happily in agreement and continued to work on his little garden. He remembers the way Yao held up the freshly cut flowers, cradling in one arm and fingering them in another. Firm but soft, as if he was supporting a newborn. It was a pretty picture he thought, still is.
"They're your favorite." Yao stated as Ivan clipped another flower.
He wonders now if he had turned around, would he have noticed there was something wrong that day.
"Da, they're very beautiful."
Most likely not.
"Yes, but they all look the same."
He knew Yao wasn't trying to make a point, the oriental rambled from time to time. It was nothing to consider really.
"And together they're wonderful." and he had handed Yao the fresh clipped sunflower to put with the rest.
"It's amazing." Spoke Yao to himself, but he had nodded anyways, not exactly sure what he was agreeing with. He recalled Yao leaning down to pick up the plant but had instead stroked the petals, plucking one off. He had looked up at Yao, and asked what the man was doing. Yao smiled back, he didn't like that smile.
"It's alright, you'll never notice it gone-aru." And that was the truth, it didn't look any different. Yao had laughed, saying that his face looked funny when he gasped at the revelation.
"They're so bunched up that you'd never know Ivan." explained the Chinese man. Then he remembered clapping, exclaiming how he had never noticed and how observant Yao was.
"Sir Russia," called an arriving messenger, "another section of Yugoslavia has recaptured, on your command."
"Very good, we shall make our way to the negotiations then, da?" He had gotten up and walked back inside. Only when he had made his way halfway had he noticed his companion wasn't following him in.
"Are you not coming comrade?" he had questioned. The shorter man stayed still for only for a split second, a split second too long, before making his way in the building.
"Yes yes, hold on to your damn scarf-aru." The door closed, and he chose to ignore the crushed petals where Yao previously stood.
Negotiations came; year after year he gained more territory, land, nations. Soon all would become one with Russia, and everyone would be happy, finally happy. Yes he was happy as well, not completely satisfied, but happy that he was making so much progress.
One day when he woke up, Yao wasn't there next to him.
Nor was he in his own room.
Or anywhere, he would know, he had searched the entire property.
The Sino-Soviet split the very next day.
He stopped being happy.
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Now he found himself in front of Yao's house, decades later since that oddly warm day, furiously knocking the door. It opened, and the Chinese man leaned on the doorway, one eyebrow raised.
"They're hideous-aru."
Ivan only held out the plucked bouquet further, each stem with only one petal.
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Reviews will be much appreciated.
8goes off to hide under a rock