"Blue is the colour for Nordics!"

Iceland had been drawing a picture in the living room. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Iceland was hunched over a piece of paper and he had carefully picked out all the blue colour pencils as he had begun whipping up his masterpiece. Norway was sitting on a sofa, his head buried in a book.

Iceland, who had been working fervently on his picture, had finally completed his work and he held it up in his hands. He grinned. It was at that moment when Denmark came into the room.

"Whatchya got there Ice?" Denmark inquired as he settled next to Iceland, flopping down on his stomach.

Iceland handed his piece of artwork over to Denmark, a triumphant smile on his face. Denmark observed the picture. Simply put, the picture was a disaster. It was a static mess of all shades of blue hurled into one piece of paper; navy blue, sky blue, Prussian blue, aquamarine, cerulean, indigo. You name it. At the top left hand corner of the picture, was a wobbly orb of lemon yellow. It was a sharp contrast to the fixating mass of writhing blue. Across the picture was a shaky horizontal line in black, separating the landscape art into two parts.

"Wow…" Denmark breathed. He was incapable of saying anything more. Whether to compliment or not, Denmark did not know. He never believed in deceiving the young, yet he couldn't put his heart to demoralize little Iceland.

"I like blue," Iceland declared , " the sky and the sea – they're both blue!"

Denmark looked at the picture again. The sky and the sea huh? That must be the sun then…

"Blue has a kind of majestic feel to it, don't you think?" Denmark chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah! Power and strength too! Like the waves and the storms in the picture books Norway reads to me! Waves that go CRASH and WOOSH and storms that go BOOM!" Iceland giggled as he used his hands to enact the motion of vigorous water.

Denmark reached out for the black colour pencil, and on Iceland's art, he carefully draws a black vertical line down the paper, dividing the paper into four quarters. The drawing now has a black cross smack dab in the middle of the picture, the cross resembles the Chinese character for the number ten.

"Blue," Denmark said, " is the colour for Nordics. That's the Nordic cross right there, though it looks a little shabby… Anyway, we're powerful, strong and majestic! There's blue in every flag-"

"Except yours," Iceland interrupted bluntly.

"Yes, yes. I was getting to that. I make up for the blue with my blue eyes!" Denmark smirked. He thought he had just come up with the best logic before Iceland stamps it out.

Iceland frowned. "Both Norway and Sweden have blue eyes and blue flags…"

"Eh… Well… I guess that's what makes them all the more special." Denmark laughed, defeated.

Norway had been watching them from afar from where he sat. But gosh, that laugh. It was like a warm summer sun in the chilly morning, a hearty trumpet sound amidst the trill of a string orchestra, the explosive and lively fireworks to a dying, heartless night.

Norway hid his face further in his book as he caught himself following such an odd train of thoughts. A blush had begun to creep up his neck and spread across his face, turning his face to a lurid shade of rose pink.

Back where Iceland and Denmark were, Iceland looked at his picture again. After a moment of silent speculations, Iceland announced, " I think you've ruined my drawing."

"Eh!"