The sun was already up that early morning and so was he. Roderich Edelstein, a fine gentleman in his own right, brushed his fingers lightly over the smooth texture of the grand piano. He was not really used to playing the piano at this time of the day. He would prefer to take his mornings slowly with a cup of coffee in one hand, perhaps, and an Italian-leather bound book in the other. A pair of emerald eyes would usually study his every move as their owner finish her serving of Austrian pastries. Roderich and his guest, no, dearest one were supposed to mouth witty remarks at each other while exchanging meaningful glances between each other.
Today, however, was different. Roderich found himself wandering around the lightly decorated chamber instead of sitting together with Belgium. Instead of touching the smooth skin of his beloved, his fingertips were just drifting aimlessly over a few ebony and ivory keys before gently settling down on some random ones. Instead of listening to her hearty laugh, he was simply hearing a monotonous sound vibrating out of the tightly stretched strings of his musical instrument.
Belgium was gone. It was painfully similar to the changing of seasons. One moment the flowers were in bloom and the scent of spring wafted into the clear blue sky as she graced his halls with a precious jewel that is her smile. Then, before he knew it, she left the cobblestone manor; taking all the laughter and amusement along with her just like how the cold winter wind swept away the vibrant colors of the earth.
Perhaps it was because of his dull personality. No, that was not it. Maybe it was because of his obsession with her; the absurd solutions he would resort to just so that he could keep her all to himself. It was all because of his tight grip on what he thought was rightfully his. But, don't the most tightly stretched strings of the piano produce the strongest and most beautiful sounds? Roderich slammed his hand on the wooden piano keys; creating several off-key noises whose echoes reminded him of how wrong his actions had become. Some people could not be treated like pianos; some people like Belgium.
The Austrian gazed upon his faint reflection on the polished surface of the keys; studying the deep creases paved on his pale face. All he wanted was for her to stay by his side forever. That was all, really…
Author's Note:
This fanfiction is written for a friend's contest. Basically it's a summary of the relationship between Austria and Belgium based on their history. It's a brief character study about Austria, too~ I'm sorry for the quality. I haven't written in a long, long time.