Denmark sat stretched out on the window seat, staring out the window at the piles of snow gathering. He sighed, grabbed a bottle of bitters, and drank, pulling his knee up and clutching it to himself. He growled as tears started to leak down his face, swiping at his eyes roughly. "Damn it, you said you'd never leave me..."
Denmark tried to stop himself from thinking about the other nation, but everywhere he turned there were reminders of the other male. He didn't want to deal with it anymore. He just wanted Norway to come back, and say it was okay and he forgave him for being such a dick, but Norway wasn't coming back. Not this time. Too many chances had been used up, and not enough changing had been done. He wondered if there was anything that could possibly dull the pain he was currently in. He was a country, it's not like he could just up and die, he'd tried in his less lucid moment, when he realized Norway really wasn't coming back. He was so in love with him, and it hurt.
Norway had said he'd never leave him no matter what, he'd always be there, the one person he'd count on. That was back when they were first all together, when his world was so small and it was just him and Norway and Sweden. Then they realized there was a whole world out there, and everything got violent and painful, and he learned that he couldn't be so open and trusting or wear his heart on his sleeve. But then there was Norway, who just smiled and told him that no matter what he'd protect him. Because despite his size and looks, Norway was much stronger than Denmark could ever even dream to be.
And he'd believed him, because if there was one thing Norway would ever do, it was lie. But then he walked out the door, saying he was fed up with his bullshit, and that this wasn't healthy for either of them. Sure, he was a bit of an alcoholic, and he did stupid shit every day, and he was irresponsible, and he was a huge asshole, but he was trying not to. He just...needed a little time was all. But really he needed Norway. How was he supposed to change if there was no one to change for? How was he supposed to be something so much better without Norway to light up the dark. How was he supposed to live with himself after all shit he'd done throughout his long life when the one person that said he loved him no matter what just walked out and went away?
He glared as he realized that the bottle was empty and he tossed it onto the floor, not really caring where it went. He wiped his eyes again as he thought more about the blond boy and everything they'd been through. How could he just leave him like that? He needed him so badly and- Wasn't that what he had been saying in the first place? That Denmark was too dependent on him and that he needed to stop because he was much too stressful? That he needed to grow up and face reality instead of hiding behind him? That all this was hurting him?
His eyes widened as the words sunk in. He hurt Norway. So many times too, not just once. No wonder he wasn't around anymore, just look at him. Denmark eyed his surroundings in disgust. Bottles of various alcoholic beverages littered the floor, blood mixed with booze stained the carpets, dirty articles of clothing were strewn about. He got up, head spinning with the sudden realization and alcohol. He leaned against the wall, and stared at the picture of the other boy on the mantle. "Norway...I'm so sorry."
Denmark fell to his knees, resolving to clean up his house and his act before passing out.
A/N: May or may not make more of this. I haven't quite decided yet. Hope everyone enjoyed.