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#1 OFFLINE   Kyra10987



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Posted 13 October 2011 - 07:55 PM

I drew a picture, and then based this story off the picture... it made me so upset that I was sad for 2 and a half days after... including today! So, read and enjoy (not).
Background info:
This could be considered a fanfiction for Hetalia. It's an anime where countries are personified as people and have all the stereotypes of the country.
Denmark is a heavy drinker.
Sweden is gay and has strong feelings only towards Finland.
Sweden and Finland live together.

Tino- Finland
Berwald- Sweden
Mikkel- Denmark
Emil- Iceland
Lukas- Norway
Tino sighed as he turned onto the expressway. It was a rainy day. Gray. Miserable. He had been out all day, wandering aimlessly from store to store, driving around in circles. He felt empty inside, ashamed of what he had done earlier in the morning. On the drive back to the house, he reflected on what he had done, and decided that apologizing would be the only thing to help the situation.
It was almost 8 at night when the Finn pulled up to the driveway, and the house looked strange. Even though it was 8, which was usually dinner, all the lights were off except for one room.
Tino called out when he opened the door. “Berwald? I’m home… are you okay?” A tinkling of glass was heard, somewhere in the house. “Er… Berwald? You there?” Tino called, wandering further into the house. The lone light was on in the dining room. As he ventured into the dark, turning on lights, he stepped on something, which crunched under his foot. “Eh? What’s this?” He wondered, bending down to examine the item. “Glass. And what’s this liquid?” He stooped down to smell. “It’s… brandy. And it’s all over the floor. Oh no. Oh no.” He ran, following the trail of broken glass and alcohol, which led right into the dining room. When he stopped in the doorway, there was an awful sight.
Earlier in the day
They were in the kitchen, making pancakes.
“Berwald, will you pass the flour? I think the batter needs to be a bit thicker.”
The Swede grunted and handed over the bag.
“So, how was your sleep last night?”
Berwald grunted.
“Good, huh? That’s good.”
Another grunt.
“Ahh… I wish you would talk to me more. It gets kind of lonely just speaking to myself.”
Berwald grunted again.
“You know, Poland and Lithuania talk all the time… I get kind of jealous. Hey, are you listening?”
He said nothing.
“Hey, I’m talking! I’d like it if you responded!” Tino exclaimed, in a rather uncharacteristic way.
Berwald looked up, surprised. “So...”
“So what? You going to say anything else? You know what, I’m tired of this! We’ve spent all the time together and you’ve probably said no more than 3 words strung together the whole time! Say something!” Tino cried. There were dark circles under his eyes, and an angry glint in his eye.
The taller of the two was taken aback. “Uh…”
“Still you don’t say anything! You know what, I hate this! I hate this house and you and I regret this friendship! I wish I’d never see you again!” Tino shouted, angrily, before storming out of the kitchen. A car door slammed, and the screeching of tires was heard before silence.
Berwald slumped into a chair.
Back to the present
There was bottles upon bottles upon bottles everywhere. Broken glass and liquid littered the floor and table, and half-empty flasks and jugs were strewn across the floor. Berwald sat, slouching, in a chair, a nearly drained bottle of beer in one hand and a half full tankard in the other. Upon hearing Tino’s shouts at the doorway, he looked up, trying to focus on the panic-stricken face before him. The Swede struggled up, swaying on the spot, a glazed look in his eyes. He took another gulp from the bottle, sloshing over himself and the floor.
“Berwald! Stop! Stop drinking! Please!” Tino cried, trying not to step on the numerous shards of glass. He tried to take away the bottle, which was let go after a few tugs. Berwald dropped the mug, which exploded in all directions. He stared at Tino for a long time, taking in what was in front of him.
“Berwald… I’m sor- Gack!” Tino had exclaimed, but was cut off by Berwald suddenly reaching forward and grabbing him by the neck. With an surprising strength, he slammed the shorter into the wall, a maniac glint in his eyes. He was still swaying drunkenly, but kept his hold on Finland.
“Ahh… ahh…” The Finn gasped for air, clutching at the hand around his neck. Berwald tightened his grip for a moment before collapsing on the floor, out cold.
It was a few moments before Tino could get his breath back. “Ahh… Berwald! Berwald! Are you okay?” He cried, massaging the bruising spots on his neck and kneeling on the floor. “He’s so drunk… it doesn’t seem like he’ll wake up anytime soon.”
He slowly walked into the kitchen, still occasionally gasping for air. When he got to the phone, he dialed the numbers of the other 3 Nordics, saying that something bad had happened and that he needed their help.
When they arrived, all three were astonished at the mess.
“What? What happened here?”
“This is so unlike him…”
Finland sat down, rubbing his eyes and nose tiredly. “It goes a bit like this…” he said, and explained the story.
“We can’t leave him like this,” said Mikkel. “We should move him to a couch or something. It looks like he’ll be out for a few days. Even I’ve never seen anyone as badly drunk as this.”
At this suggestion they moved the rather tall man to a couch, putting a wet towel on his head and laying a blanket over him. After a few hours of mopping up alcohol and sweeping glass shards it was nearly 1 in the morning.
“Thanks, guys, I could have never cleaned up without you. I’m sorry to have troubled you… I never realized this argument would have turned out so badly,” Tino said. The finger marks were a deep purple by now.
“It was no problem, really… but I never expected this from Berwald. I guess everyone has it in them,” Lukas said, before leaving and closing the door behind the trio.
It was two and a half days before Berwald woke up to a massive headache. When he sat up, he saw Tino sitting across from him, looking worried.
“Look, I’m sorry about what I said… I don’t know what got over me. I really shouldn’t have said those things and look what happened to you after… I’m really, really, sorry…” Tino said, exhaustion in his voice. He had darker circles under his eyes. “I’ve been watching you for the past two days. You’ve been out cold. Are you okay?”
Berwald rubbed his forehead. “M’ head… it hurts…”
“You should drink some water. You’re going to have a massive hangover for the next few days… I’ve been trying to have you drink, but I guess it didn’t help that much.” Tino said hurridly.
When he brought the water, Berwald had collapsed onto the couch again.
“Ah! Drink up, it’ll help a bit… you get hangovers after drinking because your brain gets dehydrated and--” he stopped. Berwald had gone back to sleep again. “Oh… well, I’m going to have you drink some water anyways.”
He sat on the couch, and put Berwald’s head onto his lap. He opened the tall man’s mouth, and poured some water inside.
“Yes, that’s it, drink up. It’ll lessen the headache…”
The day was sunny.

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