AN: This is just a short drabble, Inspired probably by my Sweden roleplayer.
The two nations had always been rather quiet.
Sweden never really liked talking to people, especially people like Denmark.
Norway didn't like talking to people either, it made him feel awkward and out of place.
Sweden always had a glare upon his face.
Norway always had a black expression, no one ever knew what he was thinking.
Sweden only had eyes for a certain nation that owned a small white puppy.
Norway was secretly envious of that nation, that got the affection he so desperately wished to receive.
Sweden would always joke around by calling Finland his wife.
Norway would always get sick thinking about it, and leave the room.
Sweden always fought with Denmark.
Norway always scolded Denmark afterwards.
If there was anything that Norway wished for, it was that Sweden would be happy and would pay attention to him, and only him.
If there was anything that Sweden realized, it was the way Norway felt, and he was worried because, he didn't feel the same way for the smaller nation.
And so the time came. The time Norway would finally have a chance to live with the one he loved.
That time though, although the Swede was the one to want it, never, never once did he try to kiss him, try to say that he loved the small Norwegian.
The time flew by slowly, and all Norway could do was give his love. But it ended all to quickly for him. It ended in 1905.
The short Norwegian with pale blond hair was never the same as his younger brother, Iceland told him.
Though no one could blame him for that. He gradually began masking his emotions, not wanting to show anyone any feelings, not wanting to get hurt, or used again. But in the back of his mind, the old days where Sweden used to be protective of him, in the days before the tallest of the nordics had even met the small Finn, he'd one day run away from Denmark's house with, leaving him all alone with the annoying Dane.
He couldn't help but think all the things he cared most for had been taken away from him. His brother, his other territories, the person he loved the most, once even his own home.
The Norwegian let out a sigh, crossing his arms he muttered under his breath. He knew he couldn't give up on anything, no matter what he felt like doing, wether it was crying, or yelling. He was neutral, he had to keep calm and stay strong. No matter what. He wouldn't let himself be taken advantage of again. He had to keep up his mask, for he didn't want anything to do with war. He didn't want to get in any of the messes that the other nations tended to get him into.