Feverishly, a young woman shuffled letter after letter in her hands, one cold winter morning. Tears visibly hung from her lashes when she lifted her head towards Toris, a faithful servant and big brother figure ever since his Russian master adopted this (h/c) lady as a ten year old child, going by the name of (Name) now (Name) Braginsky.

"H-how…why…"

"Fortunately, I saved some before Mr. Braginsky burned them yesterday. I just learned that he kept those letters hidden for years." whispered the meek man though no one was in the locked bedroom, other than the two of them. Based from experience, Toris was cautiously aware that his master had this strange habit of terrifying anyone at unexpected moments even at 4am in the morning.

"B-but Папа told me that Toni didn't c-care anymore." She shakily sobbed, her nimble fingers trembling with the unsent letters from a dear old friend. Smiling, the brunette servant shook his head. A crystal flow of tears stained her cheeks while she opened a letter, the lamp casting a dim glow.

Dear (Name),

How are you? Im fine. Yestrday, a German soldier adopted Feliciano instead of Lovi because he screamed a lot and called him names something about patata potato? But he seemed nice.

I wish I can meet Toris, Eduard, and Raivis. You said they're very nice.

I miss you chica. I hope we can see each other soon. Ten cuidado! Take care!

Antonio

Wet drops stained the yellowed paper containing a scrawny, childish penmanship. A small bitter tug appeared on the girl's lips, he still had yet to learn how to spell that time. It must have been written seven years ago, the same year she stopped receiving letters from her Spanish friend. Carefully she opened another,

Dear (Name),

Are you alright? I'm worried about you. You haven't wrote written back to my letters. I hope you reply soon. I got spanked today by Mrs. Kirkland because i tried to sneak out and find you and rescue you if you are in trouble. But I'm okay, I only got one whip while Francis got four ..I don't know what he did wrong, he was just worried if the girls in the bathroom ran out of tissue so he checked.

Please write back chica.

Antonio

A painful wrench was felt at (Name)'s heart. He was that worried? He got one of Mrs. Kirkland's hard spankings for her? It's bad enough that Toni was being fed 'scones. She moved on to the next letter which was dated a year later than the last one.

Dear (Name),

Have you forgotten me? Have you found a new best friend? It's alright I think. But even so, please write to me. I miss you so much, chica. If only someone would adopt me, than then maybe they will help me find you.

Please write to me (Name).

Antonio

No, (Name) never forgot him. Not ever. All those years she sent letters with similar contents. How she missed him. Why wasn't he replying? Did he forget her after all? But neither forgot the other.

Dear (Name),

It has been five years already. I haven't forgotten you and I don't know how you are doing. Do you receive my letters? I'm sorry if I send one each week, but I really miss you (Name). Please, por favor, reply to me.

Sincerely,

Antonio

The boy's penmanship and grammar had improved and the (h/c) girl wondered how many letters she had received if her over-protective father hasn't taken them.

The next letter was a (f/c) card with glitters chipping off and colored pen ink faded due to its age. A new wave of tears washed the broken girl's face. It was dated (Birth date)—her sixteenth birthday which was last year.

Dear (Name),

Feliz cumpleaño! Happy birthday, mi amiga!

Remember as orphans, we don't have a birthday? We read "Max's birthday" one night. You said you wanted a birthday so the next day, (Birth date), we made it your birthday and we made a mud cake!

I'm seventeen now and I want to see you again. I've never forgotten your birthday and I still celebrate it. I wish you have more blessed years to come!

Sincerely,

Antonio

The final letter was quite recent, dated three months before. The white edges had a burned singe, an evidence that Toris had snatched it up from the fire. Despite that, (Name)'s (e/c) irises could make out wet drops which had dried, smearing some blank inked words. The boy's penmanship was quite contorted as though his hand was shaking the entire time he wrote.

Dear (Name),

I'm not alright.

The receiver of the letter sucked in sharply before carrying on.

Most of our friends have been adopted, even Lovi and Francis. I'm happy for them but a lot have already come to adopt a child. Gilbert and I have not been adopted. Gilbert seems fine with it but I'm not.

This is why I'm sent to this orphanage, right? I was just left to wander the streets. Why don't they like me?

I need you, chica. I need my best friend. All of them are gone now and I miss you. Please, please write to me.

Am I annoying you? I just need one letter from you. (Name), if you do receive my letters, I want you to know that t-

The next lines were burned. (S/c) digits clenched the paper, (Name) ground her teeth and squeezed her eyes tightly and the tears streamed without any restraint. She sat on her plush bed, sobbing hysterically. Never once had she thought that Antonio, the highly exultant Spaniard, could be this internally broken. Indeed, why hasn't anyone adopted him? He was sweet and cheery though he was quite mischievous at times. Burnt sienna wisps framing his tanned round cheeks, radiant jade spheres, and a grin with a missing front tooth, his image many years ago were engraved in her memory and heart. He must have felt alone at that time—and she wasn't there when he needed her.

He was the one of the best reasons why she felt loved and important, even with no parent during those days in the orphanage of Normandy, France. Before he came, she agonizingly longed to be like the children on the story books. There was always a kind mother who would sweetly tuck in her child or a father who would come home with delightful presents, and then on every last page, the child would have a sweet grin on his face. Those grins taunted (Name), she never grinned nor seen any of the orphans smile that way. Until he came to the orphanage and his grin was extremely contagious.

The cushion dipped at additional weight and a warm hand rubbed soothing circles on (Name)'s shaking back. She began to wish she hadn't been adopted if so she could have been there for Antonio during those years. Hatred welled up in her heavy chest. She thought that Папа was kind even if he could be daunting. It was understood that her father didn't like Antonio since he claimed that, "You're my little girl not his, da?" But (Name) and Antonio kept writing each other letters until one cold Christmas season, his letters stopped all together. She was miserable for months and her last ray of hope had been crushed when her father said, "He doesn't care anymore, my little sunflower."

It was his scheme all along. Oh, how she wanted t-

The girl rebuked herself, Папа was nice enough to take her in and treat her like a princess. He was calm and smiled in a soft childish way. But this king, her father, was still wrong to keep his princess away from her friend for selfish, possessive reasons. That possessiveness runs in the family though, she observed her aunt Natalia and how she'd growl at anyone who dared neared (Name)'s parent.

"Please stop crying Miss (Name); it's not nice to cry. Master Ivan might hear you and-"

"Toris," the girl dried her tears, her sobbing slowly decreasing. The Lithuanian quirked his eyebrow in surprise at the sudden strength,

"Yes, Miss (Name)?"

"What time will Папа leave for his meeting tonight?"

"Erm..well, by seven I suppose.

(Name) arose to her feet, thoughtfully pacing to her frosted window. Pure flakes softly drifted through the cold, dark of the morning before joining the white mounds below.

Toris warily knew she was constructing a plan his master would not like. And a mad boss was not what the brunette wanted at all.

"Toris," the name left the girl's pink lips, she turned from where she stood to face the apprehensive Lithuanian, "I'm going to back to France."

As she expected, the servant began to sputter ambiguous words.

"B-but, Mr. Bragi-"

"Don't worry about him."

"Th-the trip-"

"I'll take the sleeper train."

"But, it would take two nights!"

"I'll be fine, Toris."

"How do you even know if your friend is still there?"

She shrugged, looking back to the snow outside. The man behind her hesitated, weighing the matters in his hands. What would happen when they came back? What about the girl? What will her father do? He examined the (h/c). She was no longer that timid girl who trembled at the sight of her father. In fact, (Name) was no longer afraid of her parent, and Toris observed how the Russian man loved his daughter as though she was born of the family. Finally, he sighed,

" Miss (Name)…it's too dangerous to go on your own and Mr. Braginski would be…" he paused shuddering at the thought of his Russian master's fury pouring sadistically on the three Baltic men if anything would happen to his spoiled daughter. "I'm coming with you."

Grateful, the girl smiled, knowing that her life's blizzard shall end.

This requested from another site but I decided to post it here too ^^ I hope you like it and if you're not satisfied, please do tell in constructive criticism ;3