How long does it take to fall in love? A day? A year? Centuries, even? Tino wasn't sure. He had been aware of Berwald's feelings for as long as he could remember. The Swede was always more open around him, despite the fact that he'd been around Norway and Denmark longer. And Tino did his best to ignore them and act normal. It was undeniable that Berwald was important to him. But, he never thought he and Berwald would be anything more. That he could think of him like that. Love was something that was frighteningly foreign to the Fin. Of course, he loved the other Nordics. They were his family. But things seemed to be different around Berwald. He found himself talking more, even if half of the time it was nonsensical rambling. And he found himself growing more worried. Every scratch or bump the Swede had gotten would send Tino into a panic. He almost went as far as to baby proof the danger filled workshop. And he felt nauseous. Eternally nauseous. Along with the constant nausea, he found his sleeping habits more unhealthy than normal. Some days he overslept, others he was unable to drift off at all. But that wasn't even the beginning of it. He found his eyes wandering, watching the Swede when he knew he wouldn't be caught. He spaced out more, running into walls or tripping over nothing. Yet, that wasn't the worst of it. He could handle being a bit spacy. The thing he couldn't handle, the thing that made him feel disgusted with himself, were the thoughts. Some days he wanted to reach out and touch Berwald so badly he nearly cried. And there were nights he had to fight against the urge to sneak into his room. He was revolting. He had seen centuries of hate directed at lovers of the same sex. Seen people burned or hung. Stones had been tossed at those brave enough to fight against society. And though the world was slowly becoming more accepting, the fear still clung to him. He knew that Berwald fought with himself too. The imagine of Berwald's sorrow filled eyes was burned into Tino's mind from times when the world was less accepting. He had been through worse than Tino could ever possibly think. Tino had no right to be scared. The other Nordics were accepting of Berwald. So why did Finland think it would be different for him? Why would they deem him more of an outsider than he already was? A shaky sigh fell past his lips, his fingers anxiously running through his hair.

"You all right, Fin?" The voice of Denmark pulled him out of this thoughts. He forced a smile.

"Joo*! Of course!" Nausea grew stronger as he spoke the lie. Denmark simply smiled, returning to what he had been previously doing. With the Dane out of the room, Tino found himself chewing his nails. It was a disgusting habit that he found himself with.

"You never bite your nails," The voice made Tino nearly jump out of his skin. Norway. Of course it's Norway. The Norwegian watched him curiously from across the room. Tino laughed nervously. He couldn't think of an excuse, so he simply kept quiet. This only made Norway more curious. "You know, if there's something you need to talk about, we're more than happy to listen." The monotone in which the words were spoken didn't reassure him much. He couldn't even bring his troubles to Estonia, so how would he be able to talk to Norway? Too absorbed in his thoughts, Tino had forgotten to respond.

"You're like family, Tino. Whatever it is, you can say it." Before he could help himself, tears began to blur his vision. He knew Norway wasn't the best when it came to tears, but he couldn't stop it. He felt horrible. And he felt horrible for feeling horrible. If he thought of himself this way, what did that mean for his feelings towards Berwald? Norway had moved from his spot across the room, sitting next to the sobbing Fin.

"Olen niin pahoillani*. Olen niin pahoillani." The Norwegian could barely understand the Fin normally, let alone when he was in tears. He went to rest a hand on his shoulder, instantly thinking better of it. He rose from his seat.

"I'll go get Sví." Without a second thought, Tino launched himself at Lukas. The pair toppled to the ground.

"Ei. Ei*." Over and over again, Finland kept repeating the word. Norway moved from his stop under the Fin.

"Alright. Alright. I won't," He reassured, now genuinely worried. One was more likely to see Iceland cry than they were to see Finland cry. "As long as you tell me what's got you so upset," This request didn't seem to sit well with the Fin. On the contrary, it seemed to cause him to sob harder. It took so much of Tino's strength to keep quiet. To not draw anymore attention. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. Is it Estonia? Or Sweden? Or-" Norway stopped as he caught Finland nodding. He sighed. Well, at least they'd made progress. "Did Sweden hurt you? Did something happen…" Norway felt ridiculous guessing like this. No matter what he said, Finland kept shaking his head in denial. "Do you...do you have feelings for Sweden?" That was all he had left. He couldn't think of anything else. Yet…the idea of Finland crying over his feeling for Sweden seemed almost insane. Apart from the Swede himself, Finland was one of the most accepting of the nations when it came to things like that. But he found out otherwise as Tino's sobs grew when he spoke the question. So he had feelings for the Swede? Norway rested a hand on Finland's shoulder.

"There's nothing wrong with what you're feeling. You're still you. You just... like guys. That's nothing to be ashamed of. It's still love." Tino had began to cry less, but he still found it nearly impossible to form a coherent sentence. He was scared Norway would push him away and start laughing at him. But he didn't. He kept his hand on the Fin's shoulder, neither speaking until Tino had calmed down. Still sniffling, Tino looked at Lukas in a desperate attempt for reassurance.

"Wh-what do I do n-ow?" He managed.

"I s'pose the proper thing to do would talk to Sweden." The idea made him feel sick. But he knew he had to sooner or later. He stumbled to his feet. As he locked eyes with watery turquoise ones, he found the urge to cry once more. Berwald had overheard them. He knew. In a few long strides, Berwald had Tino in a tight hug, his chin resting on the top of Tino's head. Finland knees buckled, and he would have fallen if it weren't for Berwald. He clung desperately to the male, crying into his chest. Berwald kept mumbling in Swedish, occasionally kissing the top of Tino's head. Lukas felt the urge to smile as he caught Berwald's grateful look. Lukas nodded, leaving the two alone. The two stayed like that for awhile, mumbling reassuring words in Swedish back and forth. Tino's hold tightened on Berwald.

"Förlåt mig." Tino managed. Berwald took Tino's chin in his head, watching the Fin intently. His lips pressed against his forehead.

"Jag älskar dig."

Joo- Finnish slang for yes. Yeah.

Olen niin pahoillani- I'm so sorry.

Ei- no

Förlåt mig- I'm sorry

Jag älskar dig-I Love you.

A/N: Thank you to the wonderful Swede that corrected me! As much as I'd like, I'm not fluent in any of the Nordic languages and i happily welcome any corrections!