Denmark was on the war path.
After learning about Sweden and Finland's mutiny, he had gone berserk. In his rage and frustration, he had begun tearing his own house apart, using his battle axe to it's fullest extent. Everyone who feared for their lives had fled, all exept for Norway. He now stood in the doorway of Denmark's bedroom, watching the latter as he hacked apart an armchair. In a way he felt sorry for him. Norway had no idea what it was like to be a belligerent, power hungry nation, who's attitude could turn faster than the drop of a hat. He was sure Denmark was aware that no one truly trusted him. Maybe that's what caused his paranoia.
"FUCK!!" Denmark swore loudly, bashing out one of the glass windows with the head of his axe. "HOW COULD THEY?! HOW COULD THEY LEAVE ME LIKE THAT?! WHEN I FIND THOSE BACKSTABBING CUNTS, I SWEAR I'M GONNA GUT THEM ALIVE!! JUST WAIT AND SEE!!" Denmark howled as he chopped the coffee table apart in one fluid motion, spitting out profanities as his rampage continued. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!" Norway merely looked on. He knew the other nation couldn't keep this up forever; he would get tired and stop sooner or later. That moment came sooner rather than later, as the axe became embedded in a wall, and it's owner dropped to his knees, taking in deep, heavy breaths through his clenched teeth.
A heavy silence fell over the room, and Norway wanted to say something, but soon remembered that it probably wasn't the greatest idea. It was in his best interest to leave Denmark alone. He turned to leave, but stopped as the other spoke, finally breaking the silence. His voice had become hoarse, and all of that confidence had disappeared.
"How... How could they do this to me? I'm fucking Denmark! I'm not supposed to be abandoned like this!" Norway's feet moved on their own- before he knew it he was at his friends side, speaking in his most soothing voice. "You didn't do anything wrong." The smaller nation's hand wandered to the others cheek, where it began rubbing circles in his skin.
"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!!" Denmark turned, striking Norway across the face. He completely lost his balance and toppled over part of the splintered bed frame, crying out as his head connected with the brick wall behind it. For a moment Norway's vision became blurred, and in his mind he wondered what had just happened to him, why he was lying on his side with blood running from his mouth. One side of his face felt raw, and he tried to bring his hand up to touch it, but his limbs had become lead, and a distressed whine escaped his lips. Then in the corner of his eye, Norway saw Denmark. He looked confused and scared, like he was unsure about something. It was rare to see him like this. Very rare indeed.
"N...Norway?" He tried to respond, but all that came out was a warped coughing sound. Then, very suddenly, Denmark was by his side, spitting out hurried apologies, easing the smaller nation into his arms.
"Norway! Oh god, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Norway! Please don't leave me! Please don't go! Don't abandon me, Norway! I need you, please don't go! I'm so sorry!" So, he was scared after all. Scared of being alone. Norway smiled up at the larger nation, and grasped one of his hands, gently massaging the palm with his fingers. When he spoke, it came out as a shuddering breath.
"I would never abandon you Denmark. I promise... I'll never leave you." Denmark managed to crack a smile, and gently nuzzled the top of Norway's head. "Thank you. Thank you. I love you, Norway. I love you."
"I love you too, Denmark." The smaller nation closed his eyes and accepted the kiss that was pressed against his lips. Denmark stood up very slowly, careful not to drop his precious cargo, and went in search of something to clean his beloved's face with, something that wasn't hacked to pieces. Norway nestled his head in the crook of Demark's elbow, and though about what he had said.
I'll never leave you.
Sadly, he wondered how much truth was actually behind those words.