"Oww…"
Jasper woke suddenly up, feeling an intense nausea. He smoothly opened up his eyes, holding his left temple with the corresponding hand. As soon as he remarked he was about to throw up, he tried to sit up and get a recipient of any sort; but, his condition being considerably deplorable, he couldn't control his stomach any longer and, before even noticing it, he had inclined his trunk and vomited on the floor.
"…holy shit…"
Netherlands brought his right hand to his tummy and swallowed several times in the attempt of eliminating the sour aftertaste in his throat. His breathing turning gradually back to normal, he reclined his head back and closed his eyes for attenuating the disturbances he was sensing. After a couple of minutes he intended to stretch his limbs, but, since the very first moves, he wasn't properly able to, because every single muscle of his was terribly hurting. He sighed, still exhausted. By turning his neck aside, he saw his clothes and Brazil's randomly distributed on the furniture.
"…what the…?"
The young man couldn't remember exactly what had been going on in the latest hours; he knew he had been invited by Portugal's sister and he knew he had consumed her special drink… but, apart from this, nothing at all. He moved his eyes downwards and started wondering about the bedspread he had slept on. How richly bizarre, he thought, as far as he recalled, Portugal had set bluish blankets for him, and no yellow ones… Skimming the bed surface with his fingers, he met, all of a sudden, something warm. Astonished, he realized it was human flesh. Sloping upwards his look, he found out that he was lying next to the Brazilian maid.
"NO WAY!", he exclaimed, in spite of his being sick.
His co-sleeper was obviously frightened during her rest by his unexpected scream: she immediately flashed up and gazed at him interrogatively; by doing this, her cover slipped down and unveiled her both breasts, nevertheless she didn't seem to care about it. She dragged herself closer to Holland, hugged him tight and hid her face under his neck.
"Oh, Jasper… that was wonderful… I've never felt livelier before…"
He smashed her away, still traumatized. "What are you saying?"
"Don't tell me you've already forgotten everything!", she smirked. "We spent such an agreeable night together, Jasper…", she continued, caressing his chest. "I became yours, and you became mine…"
These memories floated back into his mind via tormenting splinters. She was right: he had been gotten drunk, he had been provoked and he had fallen into the trap, like a rookie!, by possessing her wildly. He glommed. He had even had pleasure while subduing that schoolgirl! He had liked the idea of seizing such a young virgin and had felt turned on by her unripe body!
"Sex with you is fabulous…", Brazil went on talking, staring indecently at his pelvis. "You're a real stallion… I don't get why my sist—"
"JOANA!", he yelled, opening his eyes wide and smacking Brazil back.
He stood up as fast as he could, grabbing his pants and his trousers. He was shivering: the image of Portugal standing in front of the door, weeping, swaying whilst running away, had just popped up in his brain. He ignored his shirt lying on the floor and put his shoes on. He had no time to waste. He needed to apologize, to explain, he didn't want to lose her, the first woman he had ever fallen in love with! He slammed the door open and ran off to Portugal's bedroom. Wheezing, he relived the whole scene, the whole words he had pronounced hardheartedly. Precisely like his cousin Germany, once boozed his rationality vanished and his bestial side prevailed.
"Jo!", he called, entering her room.
Still panting, he stepped in. Nobody was in there, but everything was screwed up: the dress she had worn the precedent night was torn off, lying on the ground, whereas make-up bottles and pots were abandoned, in pieces, on the desk. His eyes wandered here and there, commiserating their owner. Something shiny stroke him and he bowed down to pick it up; it was her golden bracelet, the one she had inherited from her grandfather, Rome. He stunned as soon as he saw blood traces on it.
"Jo, where are you?", he asked, worried, after posing the adornment on her desk.
The Dutchman left the room and, assuming his beloved one could be snacking, moved downstairs in order to reach the dinner hall. The entire building was still obscure, in spite of the fact it was eight o' clock, because no light was on. He didn't like such an atmosphere in her house, which was usually bright and cheerful, gloom fitting more North European countries like his. He pulled the narrow door of the refectory and butted in: both windows were utterly open and he couldn't but frisson since he was wearing nothing on his torso.
"Here comes the grand playboy."
Netherlands turned his head to the source of the voice, which was doubtlessly hers. He slid nearer, but couldn't see her, as she was sitting in the dark.
"Jo! Finally! I—"
"No need to talk, Netherlands. I got it myself.", she sounded cynical. "Have breakfast. You must be surely dog-tired after such a heavy working night."
He gasped, remarking immediately she wasn't addressing him as 'Jasper' anymore and her tune was incredibly compassionless.
"Jo, I need to explain you, I—"
"Don't even think on it. I need no elucidations. The situation is rather clear."
Holland walked forward. "That's insane! Please, listen to me!"
She laughed sarcastically, crossing her legs. "Okay, let's have party-time. Come on, shoot it off."
"Brazil… she… she got me drunk and…"
"Oh, my, oh, my!", Portugal giggled. "That's the oldest excuse I've heard of. Seems like every man uses it after betraying his woman."
"That's no excuse!", Jasper shouted. "I'm not lying! Your sister wanted me to taste her Brazilian distillate till the very last glass and I—"
"And, let me guess…", she said, moving her right index in front of her mouth, in a thoughtful pose. "She began acting sexy before your eyes, stripping, flirting, whatever, and you couldn't resist, am I wrong?"
"Brazil flamed me up! She stated I wouldn't be able to show her what sexual intercourse is and…"
"…and you evidently couldn't accept such an insult to your manliness, right, Netherlands?"
He looked down and didn't reply at all.
"You see? That's how the world goes.", the Portuguese stood up, turning him the back and gesticulating. "A woman falls in love with a man, she thinks he's the one, she'd be prepared to anything for him, she'd even renounce to her own freedom… and the man chases after her, courts her, pushes her into bed, has orgasm and disappears, hunting a new babe."
"Jo, that's not true! Plea—"
"Don't even talk back, Netherlands. And don't you dare call me 'Jo' any minute more.", she interrupted him, stomping on the floor. "My sis was appetizing, wasn't she? Such a delicate flower as she was. Such a juvenile mare as she was. Your cock guided you correctly, by selecting her instead of me."
"Joana!", Jasper cried out. "I know I mistook, I know I was a prick, but—"
"I'm so glad I belong to the feminine gender! We don't reason with our boobs, at least."
"Portugal!", he grasped her left arm and pulled her to himself, under the sunlight. By this, his attention was caught by the long cut disfiguring her left eye. "W-What is that?", he stuttered.
She tore her arm off his grab and grinned evilly. "Nothing you should worry about. It's just the permanent token I was about to concede myself to a man… about to throw my independence off just out of a stupid sentiment called love.", she chortled. "That's a great score, you know. With such a scar, I am going to have no hesitations, no uncertainties. And no other man is ever going to desire me. I'm going to be protected forever."
Jasper held her right hand and brought it onto his heart. "Joana… I don't wanna lose you!"
She glanced cruelly at him, directly into his eyes. "Oh… I'm so sorry…", she murmured. "But I'm afraid that's just the case, dear.", she jostled him back so violently that he risked to fall down. "You should have been wiser. I'm no doll you can play with and toss some seconds later."
His eyes were scorching with rage. "You cannot reject me like that! We're destined to—"
"Destined? Destiny doesn't exist.", she laughed. "And, concerning our contract…", she took the papers out of her right trousers pocket. "I decided.", she smiled and began ripping the document in little spots. "You'd better get ready, you're fighting alone."
Jasper snatched her from behind and embraced her tight. "I don't care about the battle! I don't care if I'm going to turn deaf, blind, mute, mutilated, paralyzed! As long as you stay beside me, I'd accept any future! Because ik hou van jou!"
Joana closed her eyes for an instant and breathed deep. She had been waiting for those words, she had expected him to hold her in his strong arms during the night, to conduce her until the seventh heaven, to share everything with her and to tell her how much she was important for him, how much he was loving her. Now, it was too late.
"Die, bastard!", she screamed, pushing him apart. "Fuck all the women you want, but you won't have me, not any longer! You won't hex me with sugary words!", she stepped towards the entrance door.
"Joana, don't!", the Dutch boy exhorted her. "Even if I'll probably look pathetic, I do love you, I do, and I cannot imagine my life without you!", he tried to run after Portugal for stopping her.
"You'd rather expose your virility again, Netherlands. It's full of women outside; you might be lucky and find some hot ones. Who knows, perhaps they will help you combating after being ridden."
"Jo—"
"There's no way back. Leave this house. I don't wanna see your face around anymore.", she stated, slamming the door.
Holland sat down on the closest chair, holding his forehead with his right hand. He desperately understood he had burnt up his first, true love.
