In times of war, one often takes pleasure in mundane things. Canada and Ukraine do so.
|Peace was over, and instead of crickets chirping during the night and in the woods, gunfire echoed, indicating some distant battle. Gone were the days of peace, when people could walk in the streets without having to worry about snipers, damaged buildings, or enemy tanks.
Canada sighed as she gazed out over the ruined city, collapsed buildings, destroyed vehicles (hostile and friendly alike), and bodies making it harder for her. She felt a soft, cream like hand run through her red hair. "Anything wrong?" Ukraine asked, sitting down beside the other woman.
"No," Canada answered softly.
"Mm," Ukraine murmured as she and the other female lay down. It was a fairly untouched part of the city, so evacuees and refugees alike were being treated for injuries, broken bones, and PTSD alike. Gently, Ukraine lifted up the Canadian woman, carrying her to a bed, and lay her down in it.
Without much thinking, she lay down beside Canada, and kissed her, their tongues intertwining as they passionately kissed, letting their hands roam over the other's body. They smiled at each other, and fell asleep, smiles on their faces as they spent the night together.