FULL summary:

"Yao Yao, do you love me?" The bright, cheerful face asked. The sunflower petals had scattered on the dark brown hair.

The slender Chinese's body was curled into a ball, his amber cat like eyes shining proudly with tears. The bed sheets were stained with blood, and his golden palace had long since been abandoned. He slowly got up from the bed, ignoring the throbbing pain from his hips.

The man with silvery hair and violet eyes noticed a painful looking scar marring the creamy, soft skin. Glaring at the large Russian for looking, Yao pulled the silk soft robe with imperial threads meticulously sewn into it over his shoulders.

"No, I don't." He replied with hate burning evidently.

Warnings: YAOI. A RoChu fan fiction. RussiaxChina. Contains mature content.

A/N - So really quick, just a reminder. I AM StarlightandSnow from Wattpad, which is why the stories are exactly the same. I like to post my fanfictions on both websites. Except I have a couple of Wattpad not on here, because those aren't fanfics. But anyway, I digress. Enjoy this series!

PROLOGUE

The frigid atmosphere caused him to shift uncomfortably. His pale skin was heavenly, it would melt to Ivan's forceful yet restrained touches. He seemed like a porcelain doll, with a soft set mouth that would light up the world when he smiled. The golden, large cat like eyes were anxiously staring at the ticking clock.

Tick. Tick. Tick. If filled the silence of the space.

There are some villans in this world, that do not brashly and obviously display their horrid intentions. It's not simple to tell others this, even though the way they speak, and their demeanor tells you, "He's a bad one," yet you have no substantial proof. It's frustrating. Extremely.

Yao's hands tightened into the luxurious red Chinese dress, that he saw as gaudy. The mascara that coated his long lashes, felt heavy and burdensome. The rogue that lightly coated his soft lips seemed cheap to him. However, to any passer by, it was obvious he was beautiful. Yet, he could not see it. After all, he was a man!

He clung onto his pride desperately, he would retain his dignity. He didn't want to loose his composure, it was childish for such an old nation to loose his cool over a young brat.

The door opened to the open, empty penthouse where Yao waited nervously in the dark shadows. The Russian man wasn't really one for decorating. So it was cold, unbearably so. Everything was hard cut and modern sleek shapes.

Yao despised the reflection of himself he saw in the window, the city lights twinkling like sparkles scattering the sky. The rain drops were clear, the night was restless.

The door opened, and there was the sound of footsteps against the floor. Worn out, Ivan seated himself on the rectangular plush couch, still regaining his posture. He rested one knee on the couch, with the other leg exteneded. He was simply, the figure of sexiness.

Ivan had returned from a meeting, and was donned in his sleek suit. His silvery hair was tousled, and he ran his fingers through it, the watch glinting in the lowlight. His eyes were closed currently, and he sighed.

The intense violet eyes met the frightened golden, honey ones. Ivan wondered if his proud kitten would scratch him tonight. Wouldn't be too bad, Ivan smirked slightly to himself.

He suddenly pulled Yao close to him, holding the smaller frame to closer to his body. Yao's hand lay limply against the broad, strong chest. He felt angry that Ivan was so much bigger than him.

He took Yao's hand and pressed his lips to the palm.

"Yao Yao," He whispered affectionately.

"Don't call me that." Yao snatched his hand away.

His Yao was in a bad mood, and he hated it. Why did he never laugh or smile around him? Ivan had tried everything. He tried being gentlemanly like that British man he despised so much. He showered Yao in gifts every day, he gave him everything he could afford. That didn't work either, which was strange since his "range" is limitless. If Yao demanded the world, he'd buy it. However, he could never give him freedom.

He titled Yao's chin up.

"What is wrong?" He demaneded.

"Nothing. I just want to go home, not that you'd let me." Yao grimaced. He did not like this persistent sort of affection. Ivan was over doting, which he hated.

"Do you hate me that much?" Ivan inquired.

"Yes, I do." Yao replied swiftly without missing a beat. Ivan laughed lightly in response.

"As blunt as ever." Ivan said, his cheerful expression hiding the heavy, depressing feelings buiding inside.


He was shocked, when the Russian smiled sadly. "Just take your makeup off and go to bed tonight." He stood back up, and lingered as if he wanted to say something but something seemed to hold him back. Shaking his head, Ivan leaned down, and felt his heart wince with hurt when he saw Yao cower in fear. He pressed a simple kiss to Yao's forehead and left.

That was it.

Yao was relieved that he wouldn't have to serve Ivan in bed. Pushing away the worry he held for Ivan, he immediately headed to the bathroom to take his horrible makeup off, but paused when he saw orchids in the vase in the hallway.

Yao was always the strong one.

The one they had always relied on. He never showed others his tears, and learned to rely on himself. He did not even utter a whimper when he had been stabbed by Kiku. He gritted his teeth, buried the sorrow, and moved on. What had happened, it would not change. He understood it very clearly.

He had always swore to himself ever since that day, "I will live, no matter what." He would survive. He wouldn't fade like the nations. He would last for eternity, he promised.

So with all this steely determination, he wondered, why was he so easily shaken up with a few simple words? He had remembered a previous time when Ivan had held him when Ivan was drunk.

"I love you," he whispered gently in that heady, deep Russian accent. It was so heart breaking to hear the Russian man on the verge of tears. He sounded so utterly miserable that Yao would never love him back.

Yao swallowed a lump in his throat and rubbed his eyes, his large sleeves hiding most of his hands. His eyes were tinged pink, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

It was strange.

The kinder that Ivan was, the more Yao wanted to cry.

"Why are you stuck on me? I'm a guy, wouldn't a woman be better?"

"It can't be anyone but you."

"What an irresponsible thing to say aru."

"If I relied on just your free will, you'd never stay with me. Therefore, I have to forcefully bind you to me. I just can't afford to let you go."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? For such a wise nation, you're awfully dense." Ivan had a slightly bitter expression, he felt dejected. When Yao only blinked in confusion at him, it only made him feel worse.

A painful feeling constricted inside his chest. No he didn't want to remember anymore. It was too troublesome, it was so long ago. He quickly walked towards the kitchen area, rummaging through the sparse cabinets desperately. The anxiousness and unease crowded in his mind, causing him to panic a little. He found the box of tablets and going on his tip toes, he took it from the shelf.

Yao opened the refrigerator to find a bottle of tea and a bottle of water. He grabbed the bottle of water and took the tablets gingerly out from the box. He popped it in his mouth, unscrewed the cap on the bottle and gulped down the frosty water. He swallowed water and tossed the empty bottle across the room.

He slumped to the floor, pulling his knees close to him. The uneasy feelings faded away, a fluffy feeling wrapped around his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Everything is normal. I can keep breathing and living.

"I'll be fine." Yao said shakily aloud to himself, the sound echoing throughout the large empty builidng.