The annual World meeting has come around again.
This time is was being held in the home-country of the tall blond man with a less than expressive face; Sweden.

The country in question was not feeling very well. He has had a ruff couple of years.
He hasn't spoken to any other country since last years meeting, not even Finland.
Not that he hasn't tried! No one seemed to pick up the phone when he called, the e-mails were never returned, and the few times he had tried going to their houses they were never home.

He simply gave up a few months ago.

He knew that most people found him scary and unemotional, even among his own people, but at least the Nordics should know better.
People scurried away when he walked by, avoided him whenever they could, called him "monster", "freak", "abomination". You can only handle so much of that before your confidence goes down the drain.
He could no longer look himself in the mirror without cringing, and has simply stopped doing so unless necessary.

Sweden sat himself in the chair between Finland and Russia, as was his usual seat.
He turned to greet Finland only to be greeted by said nations back as he was having an enthusiastic conversation with Estland, who glanced from his conversation when he turned and flinched as he noticed the swedes attention.
Finland obviously noticed as his back tensed and his arm-movements stopped, but he didn't turn around.

He turned forward again and lowered his gaze to the table to hide the undoubtedly scary frown on his face.
Finland was obviously avoiding him, and when he thought back to the last year he realized that he wasn't the only one. He raised his head slightly to glance around at the other Nordics and saw that all of them where carefully avoiding even looking in his direction.

It hurt. A lot.

He lowered his head again but chanced a glance in Russia's direction.
The childish nation was someone he occasionally talked to when said nation had his brief moments of sanity.
Unfortunately it seemed like this was not one of those moments as said nation was practically radiating ill intent while he was smiling creepily at the chattering America, who seemed unaware, or unbothered, of the attention.

Sweden let loose a silent sigh of sadness before again neutralising his expression.
He got lost in the memories of a time when he didn't feel so lonely, when he lived in Denmark's house with Norway and Finland.
He remembered how divided he felt, when he made the decision to leave that house with Finland. It was one of the times he had to decide between his own happiness or that of his people.
It took a century before either of them could forgive the other, and a few more before they could have the same companionship as they had before.
But he was never alone.
Ever since he met Norway in the cold wilderness of the North all those millennia ago, he has never been as alone as he feels now.

America suddenly stood up, his chair making a loud clatter as is collided with the floor.
Sweden started badly at the noise, caught up as he was in his own thoughts, and he saw Finland glance at him questionably for a second before quickly looking away again. It was the first time during the entire meeting that he had looked in his direction, and he tried to ignore the pain that occurred by that fact, by putting his focus on the wheat blond American man that currently held the attention of the rest of the meeting.

"I'm hungry!" he complained loudly, "Let's take a break for lunch!"

Among the agreeing murmurs you could hear England complain to America that "You are always hungry!" but he clearly didn't disagree since he too stood up and moved towards the door.
As everyone started moving towards the door, Sweden stood up but decided to wait until everyone else had left. He wasn't that hungry yet anyway, so he was in no rush.

The flood of people started thinning out, and he saw that he wasn't the only one that had chosen to wait. The siblings, Switzerland and Lichtenstein, were also still there. Most likely a decision that came from the Swiss' overprotective nature.
Greece was sleeping in his chair and didn't look like he was going to move any time soon.
They were the now the only four people left in the room, and the three people that were awake, were all moving towards the door. Sweden slowed down so that they didn't accidentally crowd the door, and allowed the siblings to exit first.

Just as they passed him, he saw something fall out of Liechtenstein's pocket, and he automatically bended down and picked it up.
As he took it in his hand, he concluded that it was a pair of gloves.

"Ah-" he started as he softly touched her shoulder do get her attention, "Wait, you-"

He couldn't get any further, as when she turned around she gave a short shriek of fright that immediately had the attention of her brother. Before he could even react he found himself facing the barrel of a gun and an enraged Swiss.

How he managed to get a gun into a World meeting, he would never know.

"What were you doing with my sister, huh?!" he bit out, his green eyes blazing with rage and protectiveness. He managed to look very intimidating despite only coming up to Sweden's chin. Giving him no time to answer of defend himself, the Swiss raised his voice a bit and continued, "Don't ever touch my sister! She wants nothing to do with you, you monstrous brute!"

He managed to contain the flinch that wanted to emerge, that was after all not even the worst he had heard today, and carefully made sure that his face had the same emotionless display that it always had. He could do nothing about the pain in his chest, or the weak feeling in his limbs.

He clenched his left hand hard, and slowly lifted his right hand that still held the girl's gloves. Trying to move as non-threatening as possible, he held out his open hand and showed them a pair of black gloves with red flowers on the back of the hand.
Lichtenstein gasped and searched her pockets, while Switzerland stared dumbfound at the outstretched hand.

"You dropped these, Miss", he mumbled, "It's very cold outside this time of the year, so I'm certain that you will need them."

He belatedly realised that his hand was trembling slightly, hopefully not noticeably. He tightened the fist of his other hand further in hope of reeling in the traitorous action of his body.

Switzerland pulled back his gun, and relaxed his aggressive stance, but continued to stare at the swede.
Liechtenstein stepped out from behind her brother, but stayed glued to his side, as she reached out and accepted the gloves from his hand.

"Th-thank you, so much", she managed to get out, "I-I'm really sorry for-"

He shook his head to stop the timid girl from apologising. After all, she had nothing to apologise for.
He told her as much, "It's okay, Miss Lichtenstein. It happens all the time." He hoped that it didn't come out as bitter as he felt.

He quickly excused himself and walked to his room.

Once he made sure he had closed the door behind him, he relaxed his tense muscles and instantly started trembling. He felt a stinging in his left hand, and when he brought it to his face he realised that he had accidentally broken the skin of his palm with how tightly he had clenched his hand.
He crossed the room into the bathroom and put his hand under the water.
Once it stopped bleeding he shut of the water and carefully dried his hand with some paper, making sure that it wouldn't start bleeding again.
Ha accidentally glanced up and caught his reflection looking back at him.
For the first time in months he didn't cringe at what he saw, instead he froze. He stood there, frozen, while everything people say about him came to the forefront of his mind.

"Jikes! What a Freak!"

"Mommy! Is that monster going to eat us?!"

"They should lock up things like that..."

Over and over, the voices repeated themselves, becoming louder and louder with every repeat.

The next thing he knows the stinging in his left hand is back, but worse.
He focuses his eyes and realise that at some point during his breakdown he had punched the mirror with his already injured hand. He was bleeding quite heavily and there was glass stuck in his knuckles, some of which he was sure was broken, but he just couldn't get himself to care right now.
For the first time in his life, he felt like he looked: unemotional, blank.
He staggered out into the room and collapsed against the wall outside the bathroom, and slowly slid down it until he sat on the floor with his legs slightly bent and his head hanging limply.

He barely noticed when the door to his room opened and he didn't react when someone sat down on the floor in front of him.

He just didn't care any more.