He never liked to be in the focus, so he was happy that his neighbours and fellow countries didn't pay attention to him.
It was the evening after a long and stressful conference and Ludwig felt, like he wanted to cry, so tired was he. It was well after midnight and the bigger part if the partying countries as drunk. He'd probably have gone to bed hours ago, if France didn't stop him.
It was a bit embarrassing and he was happy that not many nations knew about it, but He still sometimes felt it difficult to say no to the Frenchman. He had admired and hated him far to long, he was like a parent to him, back at the beginning of the 19th century...it was difficult to say no when the Francis actually tried to be nice to him after such a long time.
And he sat there in his chair, nipping at the tumbler with Calvados in his hands form time to time, that Francis had shoved in his hands before going back to partying.
With every drop he seemed to get more tired.
England was naked and so was Denmark. Dancing and and chanting Pirate songs in their respecting language, while trying to get Spain to join...who was busy flirting with Belgium.
America was already asleep after half a beer and a a little bit of Vodka given to him by Russian who looked still very sober, grinning creepily friendly ad the dancing people around him.
Germany yawned sleepily and nestled down in his chair trying to keep his eyes open. He wasn't drunk...just tired.
So tired.
"Seriously kid, You've gotta learn how to say no." muttered a voice in sloppy letzebergisch causing him to look up startled.
Luxembourg was a bit more pinkish than usually, but he still sat pretty stable on the armrest of Ludwig's chair.
"Yeah, probably..." muttered Ludwig and yawned again. "But it's nice, when France cares for me." the man next to laughed and ruffled his hair. "You're awfully honest!" Ludwig grumbled, he didn't like people messing with his hair, but is seems every older brother of his, Even the ones that didn't live with him anymore, like to make him looks like a scarecrow.
"too tired to lie." he muttered and leaned against the older mans chest.
"hey. I like how your dialect sounds...sounds like dad." he whispered putting down his glass on the coffee table before him.
"It's a language not a dialect." mumbled Luxembourg slightly disgruntled, but he didn't shove him away. "And being called similar to the Holy Roman Empire isn't exactly a compliment. He was an arsehole."
Germany chuckled sleepily.
"Well, it runs in the family."
An acknowledging quiet laugh then they got quiet again.
Germany could hear the steady heartbeat of the smaller country, he didn't pay attention to the other countries anymore. Not a minute late he drifted off to pleasant dream about cake.
A sudden flashlight made him jump a few hours later.
Confused he looked around blinking in the light of the early morning sun. There was Hungary and Japan, both a camera in their hand, while fervently shooting photos of him and his older, smaller western brother, that somehow managed to squeeze himself next him in the chair was still craddling Ludwig's head in his small arms.
He cursed silently and tried to sit up.
"Hey, brother...would you mind letting me go?" he grumbled quietly and tried to shove Luxembourg away.
"Quiet, kid. I'm trying to sleep."