"Why do you have an Ikea sofa in your living room?" Denmark frowned rather offended as Norway came back to the room.
"It was a present from Sweden" Norway said simply, putting the tray down to the table. "You ruined my couch last time if you don't rem-" he tried to explain but he didn't get the time, he found himself pinned to the wall by Denmark holding his wrists tightly. "Denmark, it hurts…" he said, his voice calm and his face still stoic as ever.
"You have to get rid of that sofa. I don't like it that you think of him every time you look at it. You are mine" Denmark said, his voice angry and definite.
"Yours?" Norway asked back silently, his voice still calm as he was looking at the angry, possessive Dane. He was waiting for Denmark to do something , to give him a shy and quick peck on the lips and turn away embarrassed, to kiss him passionately until they both run out of air, or even to jump on him right there – but none of them came, Denmark was only looking at him pouting. So he freed a hand and gave the other a not too strong but firm slap in the face. "I'm not yours" he said as he stepped away from the shocked Dane, took a mug of hot chocolate from the tray and sat down to the couch, keeping his eyes away from the other. Stupid Denmark.
