Meaning: The road, a spiritual or physical journey.
Berwald's POV
The train was disgusting. Nothing could be positively said about it; it was dingy, cramped; and smelled like sweat. Although the apprehension formed in Berwald's mind, he knew that it was the only way to escape that hell The train gave him even more of a reason to run away. College, however, might be the thing that he needed to actually escape.
It was an international college in the middle of England-well, roughly- and it provides classes for people who aren't as confident in English as they could be. Berwald didn't need them but he felt that it might be a more welcoming environment for him- and especially his thick accent. He thought that it could be possible to meet other Swedish students to speak to. If not, he could settle with almost anyone. For someone who hates speaking to strangers, or anyone for that matter, he certainly knows a lot of languages.
God, this train stinks...
Berwald looked around the train, mentally complaining about all of the people present. Many, he assumed, we're going to the college campus.
The first was an uptight looking man. He had flat, tawny hair that was slicked back- apart from one rediculous strand that stood about 2 inches from the man's head. He wore a pair of wire rimmed glasses- they were perched haphazardly on the end of his long nose. His clothes were the main point of confusion though. The lilac suit was the least of his worries- the main one was a large white cravat. A cravat?! The man noticed Berwald staring and flared at him, reopening the book that lay on his lap. It seemed to be an advanced music theory textbook but surely it couldn't be. Who reads a textbook for leisure?
The second was sat next to him- a white haired man on his phone. Obnoxiously loud music played from his headphones- some metal band by the sound of it. He was dressed in all black and mostly grime. The clothes themselves looked as though they hadn't been washed in a month. Not to mention the half ripped Rammstein t-shirt- either a new trend, or a disgusting example that he cannot dress himself. The man had his arm wrapped around the first man's waist, the other was scrolling through his phone. Every now and then, he would look at the first man and grin.
Another was a woman, she was sat next to Berwald. She had thigh-length blonde hair and piercing blue eyes- to which the gaze was focussed on a text message. An almost unnoticeable smile plagued her lips.
Hey Nat, see you later. I'll be waiting in college for you already- Vash lent me a lift. I love you xxx
I'll be there in a short while. Trying to not keep you waiting but this train is taking forever. Also, this wierd man is reading my texts so I'm going to go. love you Erzsi xxx
She shot an aimed gaze at Berwald and then continued to scroll through her phone. He immediately moved his eyes, in an almost fear, to the floor below.
"Hey, can I, like, sit here? Your bag's in my way." a grating but familiar voice came from his right. He turned to see a long haired man dressed in grey jeans, a shirt and an ultramarine coloured blazer.
"Feliks?" Berwald mumbled "I haven't seen you in years" Truth be told, he didn't like Feliks. He was whiney and petulant- as though he was still a child- but Berwald had to tolerate him. He was good friends with Feliks' boyfriend.
"Ber! Hey, how are you? You going to that college?" Feliks questioned before sitting next to a rather disgruntled Berwald. Throughout this statement, Feliks simply looked at his nails.
"Yes, I, er thought it was for th' best. And you? How's Toris?"
"Yeah, I'm going there but, I'm like so tired." He began, putting too much emphasis upon the "so". "And Toris is going too, it was his idea to take us actually. I, like, admire his talent for sporting places" Every time Feliks used the word 'like' incorrectly, Berwald grimaced further. Talking to this man is like talking to a teenage girl.
"What do you think of Birmingham then?" Feliks questioned, snapping Berwald from his thoughts.
"Oh, er, I moved directly from home to here- I do not know anything about the city, apart from a coffeeshop." he spoke, meaning his family home in Jokkmok.
"Wow, what a change! That's crazy. But like, yeah. I could show you round if you want." Feliks spoke with a brief smile. Berwald could have kicked himself- he knew he shouldn't have told that to the irritating Pole. Then again, it did beat being alone.
"Fine, I'll buy you a coffee to make up for it some time. There's a Starbucks near the place we need to go."
"Yeah, it's by that shopping centre thingy?"
The train finally ground to a halt; their stop being a huge station. Well, it's a huge station compared to the one near his home in Sweden. The contents of all of the carriages poured out of the small, glass doors and onto the platforms. One of which stopped at the door, staring at Berwald.
He was a small man, who was fairly tanned and had auburn hair. His face showed an example of pure terror and loss. "Excuse me sirs?" he began, tapping Feliks on the arm "I heard you talking about the college and I am hopelessly lost and I don't have my boyfriend with me and-" He shook his head "What I mean is, can I come with you two to the college?" His thick accent became even stronger with every tangent to his ramble.
"Course, follow me!" Feliks chirped, nodding to the man.
They stepped off the platform and into the main centre of the train station. It was made of glass and complete white walls. The automatic doors were in reach now, and so was the new city.
"So, what's your name kid?" Feliks spoke- always as though the listener is younger than him. This was after an awkward silence.
"Feliciano Vargas" he spoke, jumping slightly. This was at either the sudden cold air or the obnoxious Polish man's question.
"Well, I'm Feliks and this is Berwald." Feliks simply didn't let anyone else speak before him. Much to Berwald's annoyance and gratitude.
"W...What do you do in college?" Feliciano asked, nervously trying to start a conversation whilst they were walking through the densely packed streets.
"I'm going to be doing Media, English language and Psy-"
"Fashion BTEC? I think that's what it's called" Feliks interrupted, leaving Berwald to glare into the back of his head.
"Psychology" Berwald finished with a snarl.
Feliciano motioned to Berwald- this was for him to walk slowly. Feliks, of course, didn't notice and he carried on walking and talking to a non-existent audience.
"Let's leave him. My Ludwig and his brother will be along in a moment, see? A text!" The man was practically jumping out of his skin as he showed Berwald the text message.
Feli, i will be there shortly with Gilbert and Roderich. Wait for me outside the train station. Love you xx
"How are you anyway?" Berwald asked as he watched the Pole walk away, still somehow talking to himself.
"I'm good thank you. Better now I know Ludwig is on his way!" Feliciano beamed at Berwald. "And you?"
"I'm ok"
"Good, I'm glad"
The conversation died until an incredibly tall, blond male walked up to them. He had the two men from the train in tow. Feliciano, upon seeing the tall man, actually let out a squeak of delight and ran to him.
"Luddy, you're here!" Feliciano exclaimed hugging the man tightly. The man, now known as 'Luddy', kissed Feliciano's hair and tried to escape the grasp of the tiny Italian.
"Fer Christ's sake Feli, you've been away from him for 40 minutes- not a year." the white haired man howled with laughter- literally.
."Who is your friend?" the blond man asked, once Feliciano had stopped hugging him. A thick German accent lined his monotonous voice.
"Oh, this is Berwald! He was so kind, he offered to help me get to the college. And he was patient and not too talkative, unlike the other man "
"Please to meet you." the man shook Berwald's hand firmly "My name is Ludwig Bielschmidt and anyone who keeps Feli out of trouble is a friend of mine"
"Alright, the name's Gilbert Bielschmidt but you can call me Gil- only Roddy here calls me my other nickname" the white haired man winked at Berwald. The other rolled his eyes and extended his hand out to Berwald.
"Roderich Edelstien" he smiled politely. "Please forgive my boyfriend, he simply has no tact"
"Not that you complain that much baby" Gilbert grinned, clapping Roderich's back.
"I complain about your lack of tact daily. Especially around new people. Remember- vulgarity isn't a replacement for wit"
"So, where are we all going." Ludwig's statement was clearly directed to Berwald.
"I'm going to the boarding homes, which I'm guessing you are too"
"Well, we're heading in the correct direction."
"Now, we don't have enough rooms for everyone this year- there has been a much bigger turnout than previous years. Short of renting out the broom cupboard, we didn't really know what to do. So some of you may be 4 or 5 to a room."
The entire room errupted into nervous conversation.
"Why'd they let so many in if they knew they couldn't house us?" Berwald heard from in front of him. It was the woman from the train. She was talking and holding hands with the woman next to her- presumably 'Erzsi' from the text.
"You will be split into groups with similar lessons. I hope you know who you are" he announced, the room descending into silence once again. "First group- Alfred Jones and Ivan Braginski. Second- Amelia Jones and Alice Kirkland. Third- Ludwig Bielschmidt, Antonio Carriedo, and Kiku Honda"
"How long is this shit gonna take. Should've brought that flat when we could Roddy" Gilbert sighed, watching his brother walk off with his new group. Feliciano looked lost without Ludwig, even if it was only for the first hour.
"Fourth- Anastasia Braginskaya, Annalise Zwiker, and Julchen Schröpfer-Hartleben. Fifth- Berwald Oxenstierna, Timo Väinämöinen, Matthais Køhler, Lukas Bondevik, and Emil Sielsson"
Berwald nodded, to no one in particular and walked down the hallway- that now had many people walking down it. How the hell are they going to fit 5 people in a 2 people, at best, room? They must have the largest room, surely? Before Berwald's mind ran away with itself again; another tall, blond man ran up to him.
The man's hair was sticking up in all directions but still managed to have a vague style to it. He was grinning wildly at Berwald but his eyes held mischief. His clothes were just as messy and unwashed as his hair. He was wearing a yellow t-shirt with bright red tracksuit bottoms. A Hiedivolk hoodie was thrown over his one shoulder also.
"So I'm guessing you're one of my roommates. God, you're tall." he spoke, continuing with an unnerving grin.
"My name's Berwald" he mumbled, mainly in the hopes that the man will leave.
"For God's sake Matt, you'll talk to anyone who will listen." an annoyed and mildly disinterested voice came from behind.
"You know that I have to speak to all my roommates." he chuckled, wrapping his arm around the smaller man's waist.
"I'm Lukas, this is Matthias. Emil is my little brother and this is Timo"
Berwald turned to see a small man, who was smiling and waving slightly. He was dressed in something completely unusual for college- they closely resembled Pyjamas. Tartan trousers and a Christmas themed hoodie- despite it being the end of August. Berwald couldn't help but smile at this- but every time he looks into the man's violet eyes or thought about him, his heart raced. All he wanted to do now was talk to the strangely beautiful man named Timo.
"Hello, how are you? It must be scary not knowing anyone here- I mean. I'm in a similar position- I have friends in the college but not here- but I can control it. Not that you can't, it's just... Hello, my name is Timo Väinämöinen. Pleased to meet you" Timo burst out, not looking Berwald in the eyes.
"Yes it is, I'm sorry. And hello Timo- my name is Berwald." he mumbled, being so used to apologising. He didn't even know if he did apologise or not at this point.
"Why did you say sorry?" These words punched Berwald in the chest. Why did I say sorry exactly? For not being able to talk to you Timo, for not talking as much as you. For not being as beautiful as you. For not fitting in as well as you, in your perfectly confusing way.
"I don't really know, sorry- I'm just tired" he laughed, tensing up in the wake of his laughter. He had not done that in a while..
They reached the room only a moment after the conversation faded. It was a large enough room to move in- with a double bed, a single bed, and a set of bunk beds. A desk lay in the car corner, it was next to the door that led to the only bathroom. A TV and a table with a kettle on it sat infront of the beds and by the main door. In between these lay a huge wardrobe.
"Right- Timo, Berwald. You will get the bunks. Emil, you get the single bed. And Lukas and I get the double bed." Matthias ordered with an eyebrow waggle towards his boyfriend. Lukas simply rolled his eyes and dragged his suitcase up onto the double bed in the centre of the room. "Pick areas of the wardrobe that you can remember are yours and we should be fine."
They all began unpacking items on their beds and then into the wardrobe. Timo, from the corner of Berwald's eye, took out a large stuffed dog from his bag. It was an obnoxiously red dog, who was battered beyond belief.
"Aw, the Finn has a teddy bear" Matthias cooed. "If you ask nice enough, the Swede could take the role of your teddy bear, eh? Can't deny the way he looked at you." Berwald shifted uncomfortably on the spot as he unpacked the items into the left side of the wardrobe. "What do you say Ber? Wouldn't mind that job"
"Let's go." Timo mumbled, tapping Berwald's arm.
"See? It's happening already!" Matthias continued, not noticing that he was making them uncomfortable- and that Emil and Lukas couldn't care about his games. Emil was sat on his phone and Lukas had just pried out a copy of The Antichrist from his suitcase and sprawled out across the bed, reading.
The two made their way down the hallway before speaking again- Berwald's face was a brilliant shade of red by this point.
"I'm sorry..." Berwald spoke, just above a whisper, as he looked to the ground.
"But it isn't your fault Berwald" Tino began, his reassuring voice actually made Berwald believe this- for the first time in his life " You can't control what comes out of that wierdo's mouth- come to think of it, I don't think even he can control what comes out of his mouth." Hearing his name come from Timo's mouth made Berwald's heart jump. It sounded like a curse from the lips of an angel. Like the very pyres of hell were being softened by the breath of a god.
"Ah. Er, yes, you are correct." He pushed his glasses up and walked with Timo once more.
Before long, they found themselves in the Starbucks near the Mailbox. The coffee here isn't the best, in Berwald's opinion, but it'll do. Mainly because of the company he is keeping...
"What would you like? I'll pay. And order cause you look terrified." Timo smiled brightly, tapping Berwald's arm.
"I'll have a small mocha, keep it cheap for you. The prices here are insane." he nodded "I'll get us a table too"