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Toris stood nervously outside of Natalia's door. The Belorussian was certainly taking her time getting ready. He knew in his heart she wasn't really into him, but still, she had agreed on a second date, right? The snow that had been falling softly for the last few hours now began to blow, directly into his face. Great.

Toris turned from the wind, and began blowing the snow off of the delicate red roses he had purchased for his crush on the suggestion of Francis. Toris had thought maybe something softer, maybe less...pushy than roses for their second date, but Francis had insisted. "Main non, mon ami, the rose is perfect to tell Natalia how you truly feel, et les fleurs sont parfait pour la fille. Les épines!" The Frenchman shuddered, then clapped Toris firmly on the back. Toris wasn't sure exactly what Francis said in french, but figured it was just emphasizing how great a choice roses were. They were beautiful, he thought, as he clutched the bouquet in his undamaged hand. The bandages still weren't off of the one hand Natalia crushed on their last date, but oh well...

His friends didn't understand why Toris was going out with Natalia again. He knew that he beautiful Belorussian had frightened away most of the other nations with her rather...bloodthirsty nature. Even Ivan didn't enjoy her company and found her personality unappealing. Toris didn't care. She was the most beautiful nation he had ever seen, and probably just wasn't the greatest at playing with others. Maybe it was because of Ivan's constant rejections, maybe it was because of internal issues, but she was hurting, and needed someone to save her. And little Lithuania was just that person, he was certain. In time she would see how much he cared for her and then they could live happily ever after. No matter how many broken fingers or scratched arms or kicks to the shin it would take, he would get through to her.

Sighing, Toris lifted the heavy brass knocker again, rapping as gently as possible on the ornate wooden door. He saw a flash of blonde disappear behind a curtain, and knew she was watching him. No matter. If she didn't want to come to the door and honour their date, he would simply wait out here until she had to leave. He cleared a patch of snow with his bare hand, and sat on her elaborate front stoop. He could outwait her. She may be stubborn, but he could be stubborn when it came to love, too. He gripped the bouquet tighter, not feeling the thorns cut into his frozen hand.

An hour later, Natalia peered out from her heavy velvet curtains. Thank goodness, that irritating Toris had left. Hadn't she made it clear before? As long as Ivan was in the picture, no one could have her heart. No one was as kind, or ruthless as her big brother. Her thoughts wandered to the large country and various romantic and disturbing scenarios. Soon, she had forgotten about her blown-off date, and gathered her warm outerwear to pay an impromptu visit to her beloved hero. Surely he won't be as angry as last time, she thought. I know he's always happy to see me.

Thoroughly excited now, Natalia grabbed her ermine muff and threw open her large front door. To her surprise, a nearly frozen Toris lay on her stoop, still clutching the now wilted roses he had bought her. Natalia was disgusted. She went to step over the frozen, probably unconscious Lithuanian. As she raised her dainty boot, Toris' eyes flickered open. "Na-Natalia," his blue lips stuttered. "Y-you finally came out." He attempted to sit up, failed, and simply waved his hand at her, the bouquet losing petals as he did so. "These are f-for you, my l-love."

Natalia, frustrated at the scene on her doorstep, yanked the roses out of his hand, eager to get the poor country out of her way. As she took the flowers, a trail of blood spilt onto the snow from where the thorns had cut into Toris' skin. Natalia stopped to stare at the crimson against the snow. What caused this? She studied the strange flower. There appeared to be sharp protrusions all around the stem of the flower. She could see where the bloom had once been beautiful and red, but was now damp and a dark burgundy. The thorns, however, fascinated her most. "What do you call this?" she demanded brusquely to the Lithuanian.

"They-they are roses." She studied the plant. It was beautiful, in an odd way. The thorns on something so beautiful called to her and reminded her of herself in a sad, strange way. She smiled and bent down to kiss the Lithuanian lightly on the cheek.

"Come on, get up. I'll get you some tea, then we can go out. On our...date." She almost spat the word. Toris smiled, feeling warmer already.