Protector

Ansel huffed as he raised his hands to his mouth and nose, attempting to warm himself up. He closed his green eyes which were misty from the intense chill. Why was it so cold in Connecticut? He shook his head, blonde hair held in place by his navy blue beanie. The Belgian had to try to convince himself to keep walking through the snow in the streets. All he truly wanted to do was run back to the airport and get a one way trip back to his country, Belgium. The man refused to do so though. He had to go visit her.

Yes, that poor, poor woman who he called a best friend. Her heart was broken and he'd be damned if she didn't have a few scars from the recent tragedy. It hurt the blonde man to even think about it. Those poor families and the horrified children. Ansel was determined to go visit Maryse, the personification of Connecticut, to make sure she was doing alright. He knew that the blonde woman was soft and kind, someone who could easily be broken by such a disaster.

The Belgian man shifted the weight on his feet as he raised his hand to knock on the door. He paused. Would she really enjoy visitors? Would he make it worse? No. He couldn't worry about that now. He was here and there was no going back now. So he knocked harshly on the door, trying to make sure she would hear it. There was no answer. He tried again. Once more, there was no answer.

Ansel became worried and turned to door knob. It was unlocked. This didn't make him feel any better. He cautiously opened the door and walked in, closing it behind him. It was dark inside.

"Maryse? Maryse, are you in here?"

He felt around for a light switch. After a minute of groping the wall, he found one, flicking it on. The room which he was in was an utter mess. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls, couch cushions everywhere, plates littered across the room, dirty clothes piled on the floor, and then TV was hanging off the edge of its stand. Now the man was truly worried.

Ansel hurried up the stairs, three at a time. He swung open the door to the state's bedroom. She wasn't there. Then he heard it. Running water. He kicked the bathroom door down, hearing a small squeak as he did so. He threw open the shower currents to reveal the small state.

Maryse was trying to cover herself with her arms and hands, clearly embarrassed. The male country wasn't worried about this though. What worried him was the tear stained face and the cuts on her arms. As he saw this, tears filled his own eyes. He took the naked and shivering girl into his arms, surrounding her in warmth.

"I'm so sorry Maryse. I'm so sorry about what happened – about those children and those families. I'm so sorry I didn't get here fast enough. I'm so sorry you're hurting. I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm so sorry for everything," he mumbled into her shoulder.

That was enough to make the blonde woman start crying into Ansel's chest. Her hands clutched at his back as she howled loudly. It hurt so bad. There were no words to even describe what she felt. Why had this happened to her? What was happening to her dad's country? To his children's states?

Ansel pulled back a little, tilting Maryse's chin so she could look at him. Tears were flooding down her face and onto her breasts. With one hand he brushed the hair out of her face and with the other, he had onto her tightly.

"Why?"

This was all the little state could muster. Why?

Ansel shook his head.

"I don't know."

Maryse sniffled, tears still coming down her face. The Belgian man's heart wrenched at this sight. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips.

"I promise to protect you from now on. I won't let anything like this happen again. I promise."