"Austria!" Roderich turned at the sound of his name, pulled himself up straight when he realized who it was following him. Elizaveta smiled. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He gave the barest of nods. "Of course. Do you need something?"

"No," she murmured, her smile softening. "I just want to talk."

He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Sometimes it felt like she could see inside his soul. "Really, Elizaveta, I'm very busy–"

Hungary reached across and took her estranged husband's hand, twining their fingers together gently. Austria didn't try to pull away. "You know, you haven't looked at me once since the conference started."

"Some of us were paying due respect to the speakers." She laughed, and he winced at the sound. "Despite what other countries may believe, these meetings are very important; we are not here solely for romantic excursions."

"You just want to know if anyone's planning on invading you any time soon," Elizaveta teased, "now that you don't have my frying pan to protect you."

Roderich stiffened. "I never–"

She laughed again and tightened her grip. "I'm only joking. Haven't we been together long enough that I can do that?"

"We're not together anymore," he reminded her.

Hungary paused, that same soft look in her green eyes. "I still love you, you know."

Roderich nodded slowly, glancing away. "...Yes."

"Oh, come now," she chided, "you aren't even going to answer me back?"

He pulled off his glasses with his free hand and set about pretending to inspect whatever dust had settled on them. "You know how I feel, Elizaveta."

"I wish I did."

He looked up at her, her tomboy face blurred around the edges, and quickly went back to the half-moon frames in his hands. "I don't know what you mean."

She sighed, the sound turning into a sort of breathy laugh halfway through. "You're never going to change."

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, frowning. "I beg your pardon?"

"How long were we together?"

"Uh..." Roderich hesitated, taken off guard by the sudden question. "Officially? I believe it was a little over fifty one years."

She chuckled. "But who's counting, right?" He nodded uncertainly and she went on, almost to herself, "Fifty one years and you haven't changed a bit. You wear the same clothes–"

"There is no point in throwing out perfectly good clothing!"

"You eat the same foods, you just barely learned English even though it's been the dominant language for years..." She looked down at their joined hands and then back up at Austria, her smile sad and beautiful. "Fifty one years later, I still don't know what's going through that aristocratic head of yours. I still don't know if you care about me."

Austria opened his mouth and closed it again uncertainly. "Oh?" Hungary asked, still smiling. "I've made the great Republik Österreich speechless? That doesn't happen often."

"I... of course I care about you." He sniffed, trying to fake indifference, and straightened his shoulders. "Don't be ridiculous."

At that she laughed and squeezed his hand, but her voice was almost a whisper: "Do you love me?"

Roderich didn't have an answer; he didn't know himself. He enjoyed her company, of course. He was happy to be talking to her. He missed having her around the house, the way her shadow would fall across the keyboard of his piano when she came to hear him play. He found himself sometimes wishing to hear her laughter, or taste her cooking, and he was glad to see how well she was doing without him. But... love?

"Elizaveta–"

She moved backwards to lean against the wall, tugging Austria with her. "You know, you could live to be a hundred thousand years old and you'd still be the same; and I'd still love you; and it still would never work out."

The words stung more than he liked to admit, and so instead he averted his attention to the ceiling. How it had gotten so dirty was beyond him. "Even countries can change, you know."

She glanced sideways, something there in the upturn of her lips that he couldn't quite name. "Don't ever change, Roderich." She squeezed his hand one more time and let go, straightening up. "I love you just the way you are." And with one last, sideways grin she started off down the hall, her steps measured with a patient grace that goaded the whisper of calloused skin that still lingered on his palm.

First Hetalia fanfic. ^^; Austria and Hungary have been on good terms throughout most of history, but the Austro-Hungarian Compromise of 1867 for fifty one years. It was dissolved on October 31, 1918, before a military defeat on the Italian front of the First World War. The realm was geographically the second largest country in Europe after the Russian Empire, covering 239,977 square miles in 1905.