All around, beauty was forming. The snowflakes falling from the sky told their stories to the children and danced with them until they touched the ground. From there, the busy little snowflakes began to work on creating a wonderful, mysterious sight. It was the beginning of winter, and the first snow had just began to fall when Iceland's heart broke.
He walked through the freezing park slowly, giving a sad little smile at the sight of two brother playing in the snow together. He couldn't stand looking at the cheerful scene for more than a second and turned his attention away, looking up to the icy branches of the trees. It was truly a beautiful time of year, so why wasn't he enjoying it? Why couldn't he be happy for his brother and Denmark? Why couldn't he give them a real smile and face them without his heart aching?
A sigh fell off his dry lips, and he stopped at the edge of the frozen river. For a moment, he could've sworn he saw fish under the ice, but he dismissed it as a simple illusion of the light and walked to the old bridge. Though certainly aged, it was a nice, sturdy bridge, and it was in many of Iceland's memories, a majority of which were painful to recall.
As he stepped up onto the bridge, he could almost see the fireworks in the sky from one of said memories, he could almost smell the sweet scent of the flowers blooming all around, and he could practically feel his brother's hand holding his own. Now, however, as he walked up to the spot where they had stood that night, it was all gone. The fireworks weren't there, the flowers had died, and his brother was gone.
His heart throbbed as he stood in the middle of the bridge, glancing up at the sky. This was where they had their first kiss, too, wasn't it? On that same night, too. The throbbing turned to a sharp pain, and he grabbed at his chest, turning his gaze down to his feet.
"W-Why did he leave me...?"