In light of the olympic games a small drabble

Out on the volleyball court, they meet for the seventh time this year.

Three times had one of them won, three times - the other.

It was the decisive match.

Ludwig's blond hair was slicked back by the sweat that had already gathered there. Clear blue eyes were focused on the grinning brunette only he could see. His breathing was already laboured and the fact that Bulgaria's volleyball players were quite good didn't help at all. Also, that confident smirk on his opponent's face was making strange things happen to his mind and body. As always.

Not that he showed it.

And then Bulgaria was speaking and it was a low murmur from across the court, but he could still hear it. The ball was moving up and down, from the floor to his hands. The other nation's legs were bent, just like they had to be, the stance ready for action, coiled like a spring.

"You ready?"

Ludwig didn't let himself lose concentration. The only thing the Bulgarian got was a barely visible nod and a squint of his eyes.

Bulgaria only smirked wider, threw the ball high, high in the air and beat it into the German's field.