Snow drifted down around her, melting from her body heat. Out here was freedom, life, happiness. Inside was enslavement, death, sadness and her brother who didn't care about her anymore. She felt like she was going to soar over the treetops. As she spun, a fire raged behind he. It was a torch in the middle of this bright darkness. No one came, no one saw her, no one bothered. She was supposed to be dead anyway. The snow wrapped her in a freezing blanket with no warmth. She looked up to the stars that were promising freedom, more then she could image. A smile seemed to cut through her face, almost cutting it in half. A storm of snow came and leaving quickly as it entered.
She was gone.
He stumbled, his frozen bloodied feet leaving red marks in this supposed winter wonder land. The house was just a pile of cinders, reminder of the past life and warmth. Everyone he had known was gone but there was a chance that his sister wasn't. He had found her favorite scarf lying in the snow, not covered in ashes or burns. He grasped it in his hands, ash falling around him making the world gray. Small laughter was heard near him and he ran toward it. Two little foot marks were all that was left of his sister in the snow and that won't last long either. Neither would he. Finally, giving in, he collapsed onto the ground.
Nothing ever last long out here. Nothing.
I don't own Hetalia. Just the idea for this one shot.
The first one was Belarus and the boy was of course Russia. No, its not a pairing but just sibling love. Or maybe just something… I don't know…
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