Sorry guys, crap once again, haha. I love these two though, they're my otp 3 (and nearly impossible to write)
Most couples have a beautiful love song full of meaning and heartfelt lyrics. Unfortunately, that would just be too easy. Their song was a jumble of whispers in the night and gunshots in the day. The majority of nations agreed that it was a relationship doomed to fail. The aristocrat and the soldier? Sure, in cheap romance novels, such a love could exist, yet in reality, it was at most a one night stand. Their relationship even followed the trashy books. The two were in love, the soldier left for battle, and the aristocrat found love in another. The soldier returns to find that his lover has ditched him for another, then twenty years later (and still looking like gorgeous models, because love can't be ugly) they meet up and jump each other and they both live happily ever after... Alright, it wasn't exactly like that, but hey, it's a love story... kind of. So the world watched and waited for the relationship to blow up, or Roderich.
To those who knew the couple well, it was a bittersweet romance. Tender, but hesitant. Roderich treated Vash like a princess (because he was a gentleman), and Switzerland hadn't shot him yet, which was as close as he could get to being romantic. These select few knew that deep down, the two held a raw and desperate love that could shatter at the slightest mar or touch. They both had open wounds from the other, and both were too proud to admit that said injuries existed, just to prolong their happiness and avoid conflict.
What no other nation knew was that when Austria whispered into his ear, his little lover (they were both far too old to be calling each other their boyfriend) would turn a spectacular shade of pink. Or that Vash was secretly making legible copies of Roderich's smudged music sheets. That they would spend an evening having an icing fight (like adults, because they were mature) because of an elaborate cake gone wrong. The two had problems, like every couple, but they were determined to stay together this time.
So every night, Roderich would slide onto his bench, and call to Switzerland with their song. It had no words, for they needed none. It was fast, it was slow. It was them. Slowly, Vash would stop hiding in the hall, and sit on the floor with his back resting on his Roderich, and they would sit and remember their past together. Every night, the song would end differently, because they were the present, and that was how they intended to stay. So when Roderich stood up and dusted himself off, he would offer a hand to the man he loved, and they would walk to their room, without looking back.