Stay. [Male!Belarus.]

“Goddamn it!” You shrilled, his hand gripping at yours in a rough manner as he tugged you along a snowy street in Minsk. “Nikolai! Where are you taking me?!”

He bit his bottom lip before looking down at you through clear near blue eyes. That’s something you figured out just recently. His eye color had the tendency to change colors, depending solely on his mood, though this time around, you couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling for he kept a steady face. Turing suddenly, he began walking down stairs, to the subway you figured for you remember him tell you that his city did have a subway system.

“I won’t tell you.” He said in a stern way, “This is what I like best about you being a tourist. You don’t know where I’m taking you. I could be taking you to death, and you don’t even know.”

You stared at him through wide eyes, before smiling softly at your naturally rough, loud spoken lover. “You wouldn’t kill me. You would die yourself if you did that.”

He looked around, taking small peeks at the signs in Belorussian that you figured told him which train took you to whatever destination before stopping on a platform, his fingers still laced with yours as the two of you stood together. “You’re right. I can’t kill you. But I can do something else that may end up killing you in the long run.”

“What is it?” You asked curiously, ignoring the several glares from women you seemed to be getting. Like that was new. You got daggers every day, for every Belorussian woman you’ve met seemed to know, and like Nikolai in that more than a friend way.

“I told you I can’t tell you,” He grumbled under his breath, “It’s meant to be a surprise.”
“Aw.” You pouted cutely as your boyfriend began tugging you onto the subway. Taking your body, he suddenly moved it around so you were in front of him, and he was spooning you in a standing position. You figured it was because of the tightly spaced train. “That isn’t fair~! If it involves me, I should know.”

He pretended to think as he placed his chin on the crown of your head. “I still won’t tell you exactly what we’re doing. But, I can tell you that it’s something really important. Like,” He smirked widely, “Life changing important.”

“Oh,” You groaned softly, in distress, “You’re such a tease…”

“Oh,” He mocked, “It’s a good thing. Therefore all this teasing before hand is perfect.”

“Okay!” You said quickly, “Now that we’re off the train, where are we going?!”

Nikolai chuckled under his breath as his fingers gripped yours. “I’m still not saying.” His feet began walking up the stairs as you followed next to him. “But it will be obvious as to where we are when we get up these stairs…”

You shut up out of nervousness as your eyes adjusted to the growing light of the upper level. It may have just snowed in Minsk yesterday, but it was sunny now, and because the snow gleamed brightly in the sun, brighter than any other light you knew, it took your eyes a minute to adjust, and when they did, you were met with a familiar town square.

“We’re at Victory Square.” You said, “What?”

He nodded sheepishly, seemingly out of his mind state before walking towards the direct center. Looking at the large stature that stood there, for this was actually your first time being here, the only reason you recognized it was because of the pictures you’d been, you smiled gently, thinking that was your destination. You were wrong though. When you were a few feet from the statue, you were suddenly tugged to the left, and being directed somewhere else.

“What?” You whispered to yourself, looking up at your lover with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not letting me stop and look at all the monuments?! Where the hell are we going!?” You shouted angrily.

“Here.” He said simply, looking up at a building.

You rolled your eyes at his short sentence, before looking up at the building. Glancing at the name plate, it didn’t surprise you that it was all in Belorussian, your knowledge of that only minimal due to your slight knowledge of Russian. “What is this place?” Your eyes studied the Russian styled building, it reminding you of your time at the Kremlin with Ivan only a few years ago.

“City house of Marriages.”

“Wh---.”

“You’re going to marry me.”

“Wh--.”

“It’s the only way I can make sure you stay.”

“Why---.”

“Because,” He smiled small, saying for the first time in English to you. “I love you and I want you to live here with me, and not be a weird tourist who ogles over my monuments like a freak.”