A Game of Chess

Marseilles, France

September 30th 1950

2:48 PM

"The hell do you want Braginski?" His voice asked, quivering in malice. 'He really had the audacity to confront me, and knowing him, he probably listened in on the conversation.' His head was still facing the floor, a good decision really. He couldn't afford getting into another physical fight with Ivan, though he can only imagine the immense satisfaction he'd get beating the man until he spewed blood. He hated how his heart grew louder, with every proceeding step the Russian took towards him. The fact that he knew why, made him hate it even more.

As Alfred sat there, his right leg bouncing violently out of annoyance, Ivan couldn't help but smile. Unlike the other smiles he wore in front of the others, this was genuine. The sight of the American's world starts to fall apart, how a simple twist of trust caused the man who was by far one of the most powerful nations in the world, crumble beneath his feet. This.. this was the purest form of entertainment he has witnessed so far.

"Fedya, I wanted to check-" He began only to be immediately cut off by a loud clack of a shoe. If he was to be honest, the sound threw him off a bit.

Alfred slowly rose his head, eyes immediately locking in with Ivan's. A burning intensity grew aflame just behind the American's electric blue irises. He had a menacing stare, no Hollywood smile, no jokes or gags, no more laughter. His lips ran as a thin line, although a slight amusement laid in his face. The grin on the Russian's face only thickened. He could tell that he was so close to cracking . The Red Scare had already gotten to him, now it was left up to Ivan to finish it off. And then? Well then he could finally puppeteer the young nation, driving all of his family away until he was all alone. 'Just like me.' a sadistic thought commented. 'He'll have no one else but me.'

"Call me 'Fedya' one more time and I'll wipe that smile off your face, this time for good." he yelled out. "We are nothing more than delegates that go to the same meeting now, how many times do I need to repeat that before you get it through that thick skull of yours?"

Ivan clenched his jaw but stayed silent, for now of course. "I see that you finally received my letter hmm?"

Alfred sighed, all this anger pent up inside him was just going to make him stress more and with the Russian around, it would only add to the problem. Ivan was just trying to push his buttons, make him all antsy and nervous. As if he would ever let that pass. He pushed himself off the bench, stretching a couple of sore muscles.

"Alright let's cut to the chase okay? Why are you here?"

Ivan grinned sadistically, his hands crossed behind his back. His eyes had a dark purple maroonish tint to it that seemed to dull into a deep bloody red when in the light but glowed in the dark. Finally, the climax he was hoping for.

"You want to know why?" He asked, the smile still glued to his face. An uneasy feeling sat at the bottom of the American's stomach when he saw that strange expression of his. His feet stumbled backwards, but Ivan moved much faster than that.

He leaned into a crook of Alfred's neck, his pale peach scarf softly making contact with his skin. Although he could feel the rough fabric of his uniform make contact with his suit, the temperature dropped around his body went cold immediately. Alfred shuddered at his touch. Ivan opened his mouth and whispered into his ear, "It's because I know what you're trying to do."

"Huh?"

Instead of pulling away from him, Ivan pushed him along backwards, slamming him into the wall. "You're not as dumb as you act my dear." he continued. Alfred cringed as he felt the hard cold marble rammed into his back. "I know all about your trip to France darling, even about the large bouquet Francis gave you at the airport." He whispered, one gloved hand securing around the American's throat. "Of course he included yellow roses, astilbes, white tulips, any fancy little flowers except the one you actually like right?" he snarled as the American started to fight against him.