Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia
Just a small fic about a country who doesn't get mentioned very much~
Austria's fingers graced the ivory keys lovingly as he played his beloved piano.
The moonlight shining in from the gap in the long curtains glinted off the man's glasses as he played, but such small things could never bother him now.
For now he was in the one place where no one could hurt him; he felt nothing but pure bliss.
Nothing could irritate him or make him lose his concentration.
His mind was filled only with the music.
The Austrian closed his eyes, but he still played beautifully, for this was a tune he knew so well that he didn't need to see the keys.
It was the music he played after his marriage to Hungary, and after their divorce.
It was the melody of many sleepless nights and restless worry.
It was the song of bittersweet memories: remembering his closest friend and complete dummkopf, Prussia; being handed that black-iron cross and knowing that he would never see that man again.
A tear slipped down Austria's cheek as he continued to play the music over and over again, never slipping up and never playing a wrong chord.
No matter how much it upset him, it needed to be played for the ears of the ignorant and naïve.
For those who have loved and lost, or for those who have never loved at all.
For those close, and those further away. For those with secrets they must bear alone.
For the young, old, weak, strong, worthy, brave, cowardly…
For those who could never say all the things they wanted to when they got the chance.
For those who never even had that chance.
For those who stared him in the face, screaming at him to help, but all the Austrian could do was stand and watch his friend fade away.
This was a melody for him.
This is a melody for you, Preußen.
Es tut mir leid…
Dummkopf – Idiot.
Preußen – Prussia.
Es tut mir leid – I'm sorry.
Please review~