Hetaverse. Oneshot. Prussia purely existing.
Inspired one day when I stood out in the rain.
The door was pushed open slowly, swinging back to reveal a pale-faced man gazing out with shadowed eyes. Beyond the relative warmth of the house, it was wet and grey and smelled of water-logged concrete. There was one last moment of hesitation, then bare toes were plunged into the icy puddle just in front of the doorstep. The man shivered, but the first foot was soon followed by a second.
Raindrops tugged at his crookedly-cut bangs, tickling the tip of his nose where it protruded beyond the makeshift awning of hair. All around him he could hear the gentle rush of falling moisture, the low pounding of hundreds of thousands of tiny impacts. He tilted his head back, eyes slipping shut as thin lids were kissed with twin droplets. After a minute pause, slim, muscular arms were raised to shoulder height, hanging there as they were steadily soaked with the tears of the swollen storm clouds that lined the sky.
The day was without wind, but frigid air pulsed past dampened flesh, prompting the appearance of goose pimples. Again the man shivered, however, he did not return to the comfort of the house behind him. The rain, the gentle brush of precipitation on his skin, served to confirm his existence. So many times he was forgotten or ignored, but in this moment, his recognition came in the form of this unrelenting physical contact. Each soft collision screamed, "You're still here! You're still here!"
Tears crept from his eyes and mingled with the preexisting moisture on his cheeks.
"That's right." he whispered, lips sweet with rainwater. "I am."