From elementary school, young children all throughout the world are taught that there are five senses. What they are never told is that this is a lie and that there are, in fact, seven. One of the extra two is easily discovered, though many seem to lack it themselves. The second, however, everyone possesses, though few remain who are in touch with it. It is a rare person indeed that can rediscover what it means to have all of them.
Sight, what appears to be the most popular of all senses, is what first drew the seemingly odd pair together. Antonio was told, of course, of the man from the north whose mere presence would strike such fear in his foes that they dare not meet his gaze. Rumors grew wings and whispered sweet nothings into his ears and the Spaniard's first thought was to fear the northerner. When they finally first came across each other, he was shocked to find that in fact, this man was blue. The crowd of nations had given him a wide berth out of intimidation and cast their glances away, though their conversation resumed as usual. Antonio, however, dare not look away from the man, whose eyes of a starry azure during a midsummer's dusk shone with lonesomeness. He noted that reflected within him, his own spring forest's gaze shone with not fright but curiosity. Ever slow as winter's transition to warmth seems, they approached each other, beginning the first steps towards friendship.
They continued henceforth to meet like this at every conference, though not a word was uttered. Many nations thought the spoken word to be necessary, but it was impossible for such a falsehood to be uttered when in fact it is the action and not the word that would prove true to another's nature. Antonio and his new found friend in Sweden, however, did not go their entire relationship without a single conversation. It lasted two words; a whisper carried through on a breeze, so delicate it was, but rich with langur, with the resonance of patience itself. The weather worn voice with the kindness of honey murmured,
"Thank you." And so passed their first conversation.
Spain could feel nothing but an electric thrill when they first touched in passing. Though a mere brush it had been, the cool surface temperature of Sweden's hand seeped into his own warm and passionate blood, until together they wove like dry ice and blue flame or perhaps two winds stirring together to become a hurricane. And this storm would easily pass through Antonio's open heart, urging it onward.
Their first kiss could be identified as typical. A clumsy meeting of chapped lips was neither unique nor special and perhaps was a daily occurrence. This however, Antonio would cherish forever; for the ever-sweet man before him brought a delightfully unexpected surprise in the form of his tart lips, still bearing the taste of lingonberries, ripened by the summer sun and nourished with the spring rains.
Throughout their first years as a couple, Spain could always detect when his Berwald was near, not by the thrilling sense of his aforementioned gaze, but in truth due to his distinct scent. In these times, Antonio would allow his eyes to gradually close as pine came to him, so alike the wood Sweden carved with. Wet paint was soon to follow, the aroma unique and ever so warm in comparison to his cool skin. The faint metallic undertone of blood from a minuscule cut and his carving blade could be found as the other scents wove their way into the air. And so by smell alone, Antonio knew his love.
The first of the relatively unknown senses is common sense, which many might say Spain lacked, their suspicions confirmed as soon as he made his passionate love for Sweden known. However, Antonio was well aware that he in fact had it. It was logical for the two to be in love, what with their people being so in love with one another that many had relatives living in the north, many Swedes having moved south themselves. They had been close friends throughout history and their relationship was built upon the foundation of mutual respect and affinity.
The second of these senses is the one less known but perhaps more obvious and it is named as follows: instinct. While the fine details of the senses can be appreciated within all humans, it is a strength inexplicable to humankind that forces upon the shoulders of ignorance, responsibility, upon the rational, passion, and upon those prejudiced against, love, whether it comes in a friend or a lover; and ever happily, this love did Berwald and Antonio share.