Sobs
She was sobbing in her room. There was only a wall between them. Yet it hurt.
Her sobs where different from those of others. Hers sounded hollow, impure to the bone. Distant, like her voice. But through the emptiness in sound, he heard her emotions play their lullaby to ease her insecurity. He heard how her heart ached from neglect, suffer from the pain her own tears brought her. To see her castle walls, in ruins surrounding her. She only cried when she lost all hope.
"Belarus." He whispered faintly into the darkness of his bedroom. Cursing himself for listening, for caring about his little sister more than bearable.
Hearing the springs in his mattress creak, when his back left the warm sheets. His pillow laid already abandoned on the floor, next to his jacket and shirt. He had been close to sleeping, before the heartbreaking sobs of his little flower filled his ears. Their walls proven to be too thin.
Her sobs grew in audio, the less steps away he was from her room. The notes created by her tears and breathing, they not only hurt her. They hurt him as well. Belarus, his Belarus was hurt. And was crying louder, with pain unknown to his ears, than he had ever experienced.
"Belarus, please don't cry." He whispered, knowing he wouldn't be hurt. It relieved him.
She was inches away, they were separated by thin wood with an handle made of bronze. The wood was scratched, damaged by the fight this household held. They seemed inches apart. But he knew, she was in her own world. Drowning in her own tears, with only her voice and thought as a comfort.
Wishing he could help her, to ease the heartbreak she faced. He had known why she cried, from the first sound of her sobs in the night. Russia had hurt her more than any person could do.
They all suffered from heartbreak. Belarus the most.
He touched the handle shining in the vague moonlight stretching through a large window, swallowing. Doubting whether to enter or not. It hurt him, hearing Belarus in this state. Yet he knew, she wouldn't accept him. Not as a friend, not as a brother. She had never done. Because he wasn't there for her, he had chosen father's side of their torn-up family.
Pressing the handle slightly, the door slid open softly. Increasing his heartbreak, caused by his sister's heartbreak. Biting his lip.
She sat on her floor, her long hair covering her face and her eyes. She was in her nightdress, her favorite shade of blue. Matching her eyes so well. Embracing her knees, cradling herself. Sobbing, tears stretched over her face, tracing her mascara along their fall from her perfect cheeks.
"Belarus." He said, hearing the caring in his voice. It revealed little of his true feelings. She looked over her shoulder, taking her silk hair on her way. Her eyes were red, puffy and showed cracks of self-confidence in its depths. They begged for help, for comfort.
"Leave me alone!" Her voice creaked, her confidence slipped away underneath a waterfall of tears. She took a pillow and threw it towards the reflection of Russia. "I hate you! Both of you! You've hurt me enough!" She cried encouraging his guilt to take over.
He bowed his head, peeking through the bangs hanging in front of his eyes to see her. She sat, on her knees. Her long delicate fingers covering her face, preventing the tears from being seen. Her hair stick to her cheeks, begging to be stroked away or simply touched by his fingers.
"Кролик. Please. Don't shut me out." Letting go of the handle, mixing himself with more drama, he took a step in her direction. Fearing her to flinch, by the use of her nickname when they were younger. He cursed himself for letting the word slip away so easily.
"I told you to go away! Listen to me and stay out!" She didn't throw, but her voice was her weapon in her attempt to keep distance. That's all she had as a shield preventing her from being hurt. The distance their family tragedy had created.
"No."
He wasn't tough, not intimidating as Russia. But he cared. He cared for her more than he did for other girls. More than he did for Germany, who he had pledged love for.
He was torn as well, torn between the blonde and the intense love for his sister. It was unhealthy, the way she roamed around in his mind and inhabited his heart. The way she kept him busy.
He build his actions on love and for the first time since their separation as children, the memories that stung whenever he looked into her eyes, he embraced his younger sister. His arms locked around her, holding her close. Inhaling the scent of her shampoo, closing his eyes. Fearing the pain to come, loving the moment and touch they shared.
He had fallen onto his knees as well, his head bowed to watch over his sister. Her hands had left her face and had flowed around his bare torso. Hearing his heartbeat, warming the cold inside her.
There was no shirt to bury her head in, to keep away the tears from sticking. So they stuck to his chest and they warmth his body. Her emotions were put in those tears, whose she kept shedding. Because she hated him for looking like the one she loved and because he cared, instead of Russia.
His hair fell over his face, when he pressed a kiss on her forehead. He found himself lucky, Belarus stayed safely in his arms when his nose brushed her hair. When his lips touched her skin and muttered the sentence "I love you," she stopped shedding useless tears.
Robbed by three little words, she once had desperately begged for, said so easily by him. Losing herself in those three little words, she moved her head. Staring into his blue eyes, which revealed to be different when the depths embraced her. Air struck, the love she felt.
Allowing herself to be kissed, by her brother's reflection.