APH - Den/Hun - Unexpected Invitation - Chapter 11

Mathias' words called out to her again, beckoning her to approach him. However, Elizaveta simply stood there, waiting for something to happen rather than initiating it herself. In a matter of seconds, Elizaveta felt her body move unwillingly, her knife robbed from her hand, as Mathias set her in yet another position in which she could not flee from his grasp. Her neck numbed from the cold metal of the knife. That's more like it.

She quickly thought of the possible ways she could get out of this scenario. Many of those ways required her hands, but Mathias' grip on her there had them locked behind her back. Her legs weren't in a proper setting to do anything, either; she would just stumble over herself. A smirk appeared on her face as the Hun thought up of a different approach - her head turned around, in hopes that she wouldn't cut herself (though, deep down, she wanted that knife to make its mark on her - just to see Mathias' reaction), facing Mathias to seal their lips together again in an effort to distract him.

Mathias felt the slight movements that the Hungarian made as she tried to figure out how to escape. However, before he could make a remark she had managed to lock him into a kiss. How devious. The Dane smirked against the Hungarian's lips, but knew she was doing it to distract him. Trying his best not to give in, the arm that was around her waist, holding her to him, only tightened, and the knife blade still kept it's place on her neck, though not cutting her skin, as tempting as the Viking found the action to be. He deepened the kiss, putting more power into it, and pulled the Hun back with him as he brought his back against the wall for support. Nice try.

When Mathias smirked and when the two of them started walking towards the wall, Elizaveta knew that her plan had failed; her neck was aching from the strain she had put on it to kiss Mathias and she attempted to withdraw from it, but the strength the Dane had put into the kiss prevented her from drawing away. Mathias' tightened grip on her arms wasn't doing much for her either. Dammit. However, as much as she cursed, Elizaveta was too pleased with this. Amazingly against her will, the Hungarian bit Mathias' lip, once again as an attempt to escape.

Mathias continued his tight hold on Elizaveta, fully enjoying the kiss they were sharing. When she bit his lip, he let out a light moan. Talk about feisty. However, being in the position they were, he still had full control, and bit her lip back. After keeping the kiss up for a bit longer, Mathias finally stopped, breathing heavily, before moving down to the Hungarian's neck (once more), starting to bite and kiss it again, though more viscously than before. He brought the flat edge of the knife up under the Hun's chin, still forcing her to look upwards as he pleased himself.

Elizaveta's heart skipped a beat as her ears picked up Mathias' moan. That's probably the most wonderful thing I've ever heard in my entire life. Even better than Roderich's piano playing. She let out a high pitched moan, too, her face flushing as Mathias copied her action. Again, her scheme had no success, but was thankful (or was she really?) that the Dane had relinquished her. The Hun panted steadily against Mathias' shoulder, then found herself to be staring into the Viking's eyes. She winced as Mathias' bites became stronger.

"You're taking advantage of this too well, my lovely Viking." Those words alone made her seem higher than him - the feeling of falsely claiming Mathias as hers was just too wonderful. Somehow, her words gave her a burst of power and tore her hands out of his, also knocking the knife out of his possession with a single thrust of her elbow. Quickly afterwards, Elizaveta walked backwards to greatly distance herself from the Dane, also to observe what he was going to do. As usual, she was wearing a smirk.

Mathias shuddered upon hearing Elizaveta's moan, pleasing his ears more than anything ever had before. The heat radiating from her face as she flushed that ever so pleasing shade of pink gave Mathias a high as he continued to feast upon her, her breathing and gaze exciting his blood. He was so lost in his indulgence, and when the Hun uttered those words...Her lovely Viking, am I? Before he could retort, however, she had managed to break away from him, knocked the knife out of his hand, and now stood several feet away, much to his disappointment.

"If the opportunity is present, why not take advantage?" He said, smugly. The Viking craved for her again, for longer, for more. He slowly straightened his back, still against the wall, and shot the Hungarian a mocking look. "I don't see you complaining."

Elizaveta then thought of this like a war - taking advantage whenever possible? That definitely sounded like a strategic plan used in battles. But of course, this was different. "You know, you were right about women being the intelligent side of men. Apparently, you don't know when to stop or how to control yourself." She was dead-on with reading Mathias' eyes correctly, which told her that he was thirsting for her. "And I'm not seeing that in you at all."

Her two fingers dabbed the skin on her neck, checking for any bite marks or even blood. She then put those two fingers in front of her eyes - though there was no blood, the Hun could definitely feel teeth marks temporarily engraved on her neck. "You lustful bastard," she muttered with a grin.

Mathias grinned at the Hungarian. "That's not a sign of no intelligence. Boys will be boys." He pushed himself off the wall, but didn't advance towards Elizaveta, still grinning. And it was true-his hunger for her was at this point insatiable, he couldn't get enough. The way she made his blood rush and skin tingle was too pleasant to resist, and every time the Hun smirked at him or spoke his Viking side, now in absolute control, wanted to grab her and do things to her.

The Dane watched Elizaveta check her neck, smirking. He hadn't been able to make her bleed, but he knew he left some marks on her skin, which pleased him. He snickered at her remark. "Is that a crime?" Mathias only had to take two strides to find himself directly in front of the Hun again. He looked down at her, and traced the line of her neck, up, to bring a finger under her chin and make her look up. He whispered, his voice sadistic yet seducing. "There's more where that came from."

"Some excuse that is," Elizaveta commented, though what he said was true. Her eyes followed Mathias as he moved toward her, though Elizaveta remained where she was. She breathed in his scent which became stronger after each step he took; eventually, the aroma overwhelmed her nose, but it was pleasant. Her brain even responded to the smell by poking at the Hun's thoughts, begging for Mathias once more.

She glanced down to view the Viking's hand. Her head shifted in the flow of the man's finger while her eyes narrowed and her lips spread to smirk. The Hungarian crossed her arms, expecting Mathias to do something mischievous again. "No, it isn't a crime," Elizaveta answered, her voice also lowered into a whisper. "Then why don't you show me?"

Elizaveta heard a voice at the end of the tunnel call out to her, but ignored it.

Mathias smirked. You don't know what you're getting yourself into. The Dane brought his other hand up towards her waist, his hand tracing up her thigh, teasing at the end of her dress. He licked his lips and leaned in, touching nose-to-nose with Elizaveta. "Are you sure you want me to?" His voice sounded deadly, but still contained it's seducing tone. He caressed her cheek, using his thumb to brush the Hun's lips back and forth. He lowered his face, and after his eyes seemed to investigate her face, he slid his tongue across her lips, savoring the taste, breathing in her intoxicating scent that had driven him insane.

Elizaveta's mouth closed on itself as Mathias' tongue contacted her lips - a pleasant chill ran down her spine. Her own tongue licked the same area to taste the layer of saliva he had left there, her eyes watching for any reaction out of Mathias. Her hand, too, reached down to lightly grab the hand that had clung onto her dress while she enjoyed sharing the same air Mathias was. He's at it again, she observed.

Then she had this sudden urge to abuse him, for it was entertaining to see. "Perhaps," Elizaveta answered carefully. Both of her hands gently held Mathias' as Elizaveta circled around him about 180 degrees. She was far enough from the Viking to have their arms straight out in front of them, keeping the two face to face with each other, and then began ambling backwards again, dragging Mathias with her as if a child were taking her father out to play. After a few steps, her hands released him, but she didn't stop moving until she was on the opposite of the room, similar to the positions they were in a moment ago. Elizaveta noticed that her foot stepped on her knife on the floor, yet didn't bend down to pick it up. She continued, "Only if you can catch me."

This game is too amusing, Elizaveta thought. Again, the same voice cried out to her, a tad louder than before, but she didn't respond to it.

Mathias felt his blood rushing, especially when he saw Elizaveta licked her own lips that he had just a second ago had the pleasure of tasting. The feel of her hands on his was pleasing, and he was about to go in for another kiss. What am I doing? Unfortunately, the Hungarian decided to mess with him and the switch of positions, reversing it back to how they were just moments ago, left him distant from her. She's torturing me, again. Mathias glared, thought with amusement, at the Hun. "Catch you if I can..." He snickered. "Playing hard to get, huh?"

Then a sinister grin crept onto Mathias' face. He noticed that now that they had changed positions, Elizaveta's back was facing a table. Something, something in his mind was telling him to stop, whatever he was doing. But he couldn't. He didn't want to, and he ignored that notion. The Viking strode up to the Hun much like he had before, making it look like he was about to do the same thing he had just done-but instead, he grabbed Elizaveta and pushed her back, forcing her down and pinning her to the tabletop. His lower body was pressed against her, his upper torso hovering over the Hun's, and his eyes locked with hers. This is going to be fun.

Elizaveta seemed to experience the same thing she had just minutes ago. But instead of getting pinned against a wall, which she expected to be pushed up against, her back bent down further to lay against a table. Her body didn't resist him, however - the Hun liked how Mathias' body was against hers, transferring heat to wherever they touched each other. "I'm plain hard to get," she confirmed, "but maybe you're just not willing to give up."

Right after she muttered those words, she heard a few light knocks at the door. Her heart stopped pounding for a few seconds as her eyes immediately veered to look at the already opened door, silence overcoming her. From where she was laying, Elizaveta was able to make out a tall body frame - taller than Mathias' - in blue attire and a bucket-like hat, who was holding a rather tall bag of to-go trays. She was able to smell the various kinds of foods within those trays, just barely past Mathias' own scent. Wondering why the door was left open and why there was no answer, Berwald revealed himself, with his usual intimidating face wandering around the house. However, spotting Mathias and Elizaveta down on the table, Berwald sensed that Mathias wasn't being his usual self, and set down the food on a nearby piece of furniture and immediately walked over to the Viking and Hun, his footsteps loud and clear.

"Math'as," Berwald spoke with his deep, heavily accented voice. "What're y'doing?"

"Giving up only shows weakness." He responded back, smugly. He pressed slightly harder against her, enjoying the touch. "And that's the last think a Viking is going to show." Mathias was about to lean down to tease her again, but then he heard the sound of knocking. Though it was a knock on the door, it also seemed to be a knock on his head. Oh fucking hell. He turned to see who it was that had come at such an convenient time and saw...Fuck. Suddenly being knocked into his senses, the Dane shoved away from the table, separating himself from the Hungarian, who herself looked shocked. What did I tell you? The voice mocked him. Mathias' non-Viking side finally regained control, kicking his Viking instincts temporarily out the door.

"Berwald?" He finally managed to get out, his voice turning back to normal. "What are you doing here?" The Dane's eyes wandered to the food that the Swede had brought, which made him curious. How the hell am I supposed to explain this? As it was he had not wanted Berwald to show up at all, but it was just his luck that he was the one who would appear at the door.

Berwald continued to stare at the Viking and the Hun, wondering what he had exactly walked in on. "Jus' br'ght sum food." He nodded over to the the bag. Mathias still hadn't answered his question. "We were gettin' w'rried that y'might starve, bein' 'lone an all." The Swede glanced around the house. It seemed orderly enough, the only thing standing out being the wine stain on the floor, and a faded but still lingering taste of alcohol. Figures. The tall man raised a questioning eyebrow to the Dane, though he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear what it was or just leave it be and pretend he never saw the two of them.

Mathias blinked at the Swede. Worried? Brought me food? And Berwald out of all people? Finally snapping back to real-time, The Dane coughed before making eye-contact with his fellow Nordic. "I know how to cook, y'know." Though he couldn't say he wasn't happy about the food. He was starting to get tired of what he could manage to prepare from what lay around the home.

"And, uh..." Mathias glanced over at Elizaveta. Think, think, think. "Elizaveta had just come over a visit, and we were talking about our days as a Viking and a Hun...and I was just showing her one of the moves that we would use when threatening people! Yeah!" Mathias felt happy that he could come up with something, and hoped it was enough to convince the Swede.

Elizaveta was surprised to see Berwald walk on in without freaking out - and untouched, at that, even with all the traps lying around Mathias' castle. She figured that it was because Berwald had visited Mathias so many times and already knew his way in and out without setting off one of the levers that would fire some sort of weapon at him and what not.

Her heart was warmed by Berwald's kind actions; whether or not he came up with the idea to bring food to Mathias, she didn't know, but it was still generous of them to think about the Dane while they were gone. If I'm not wrong, Berwald doesn't like Mathias so much - or vice versa. I guess Tino sent him over. The voice that had been calling out to her for who knows how long finally reached her ears, and for once she listened: You should thank Berwald - who knows what kind of thing you two could have done next that could be seen as betrayal to Roderich. Her eyes seemed to regain their bright green hue, realizing what she has done. Her sanity returned as she thought, ...Oh my god. I'm sorry, Roderich.

Elizaveta laid on the table for a while longer until Mathias came up with his excuse. She leaned on her elbows to get a better angle of the two Nordic nations, but gave a stare that didn't really confirm Mathias' words nor did they deny them. It took her at least ten seconds to respond with a somewhat lost voice, "Ah, yes."

Berwald stared at the two for a while longer. He could sense the awkwardness behind Mathias' voice-after all, he had known him for years, and rarely did he sound like that. Something was up, but the Swede decided not to press on the issue. "I'know th't y'can cook." He shook his head, letting out a little sigh. "Jus' thoug't y'might wan' some'in diff'rent."

Mathias had to stare at the food for a while longer before fully registering what the Swede had just said, still not believing what had just happened-both between him and the Hungarian, and the fact that the other Nordics actually showed some sign of affection. "Well...thank you." He muttered. "I was sorta gettin' tired of food at home...especially since we haven't really been stocking up on things."

The Viking looked over at the Hun, detecting the tone of her voice. "Yeah...we were just have a little reenactment. Quite fun." He laughed, hoping it sounded genuine.

A rather fake smile came upon the Hungarian's face as she somewhat slumped off the table, her feet now on the ground. Berwald's stare actually somewhat scared her - a good excuse for talking strangely, she found - and fearfully stared back, though more frightened about the Swede finding out about hers and the Dane's...relationship than the man's appearance. "T-That's right," Elizaveta stammered, recovering some of the strength and a lady-like tone in her voice.

Have you remembered the consequences yet? the other voice questioned in her head, again haunting her. Elizaveta was so dazed that she happened to whisper a "yes" that was hardly audible. She had to get out of Mathias' house as soon as she could, before she deteriorated her bond with Roderich or any good reputation she built with other nations - but her heart seemed strangely settled and happy here. Dammit, why...

Berwald's gaze switched between the two. He looked to Elizaveta and nodded his head in greeting. "S'ry, where are m'manners. Nice t'see ya'." He glanced back at Mathias. "I hope he hasn't b'given' y'trobl'." He gave a small smile to Elizaveta. "He's always gettin' hims'lf in trobl'."

Mathias glared at the Swede. Don't get upset with him-if it wasn't for him, who knows, you might have done something that Elizaveta would never forgive you for later. The Dane mentally scowled. Oh, shut up.
"Yeah yeah, come say that to me after I save all of your asses like I always do when somethin' goes down." He shook his head. It was tough having to be the older brother of the "family".

Berwald stared at Mathias for a while. "S'true, I guess." He said grudgingly, not want to admit that indeed the Dane had done a lot for the Nordics in the past. "B't anywa' I gotta get goin' now. I would stay f'tea but..." The Swede saw Mathias' discrete movement to go and get something for Berwald-a guest was a guest, a brother a brother. "I'm fine, r'eally. Got st'uf t'care to." He gave a little salute to both. "Eat up, Math'as, an' make sure El'zavet' doesn't starve either."

With that, the tall man turned around and strode off. Mathias watched after him. He always does this. Berwald closed the door behind him, leaving the delicious smell of the food that he had brought behind. This is going to be awkward.

Elizaveta nearly blushed upon seeing Berwald's smile. Wasn't he...mad and serious just a moment ago? All she could do was return a nod, a little too shocked with the Swede's personality. She watched Mathias head off to get something for the other nation and pondered for a while longer, remaining mute as the scene moved on. Mathias was right...even with the way he treats Berwald here, he supports them anyways...just like a family. Her heart sunk from a realization: her 'family' - Roderich, Feliciano, Lovino - had essentially left her. The Hungarian wished that she had that sort of bond with a group of nations like the Scandinavians did.

She was even more surprised when Berwald had to remind Mathias to take care of her as a host should. However, Elizaveta saw that more as of a way to make Mathias more behaved and well mannered than the welfare of herself. Noticing how awkward the two of them were now, Elizaveta made serious eye contact with the Viking, her eyes narrowing as she did so. The Hun slowly removed her eyes off of Mathias as she wordlessly walked toward the door, implying that she should leave.

Mathias sighed. A surge of warmth went through him at the thought of the other Nordics this time, instead of disdain. It was nice when they could actually act as the family they were.

And then his thoughts went back to the Hun. It seemed the two of them could never get time to themselves without being interrupted-Roderich, Gilbert, and now Berwald. Take it as a sign. The voice nagged at him. You've made a big enough mess out of things already. The Viking combed a hand through his hair. If only it was that easy.

When he and Elizaveta made eye contact, he felt a wave of emotions, not being able to tell one apart from the other. He thought about what happened just moments earlier-neither of them were being their normal selves. Or were we? It was so hard now to see who was the real him, who was the real Elizaveta. Viking and Hun, or simply Dane and Hungarian? It was like they both brought out the worst in each other, unexpectedly inviting their former selves. Mathias watched her move to the door, for the umpteenth time, it seemed. He longed to say something, do something, but he failed to find what that something was. He secretly hoped that she would turn around and say something, just so he wouldn't have to initiate it. What is this feeling that's tugging at my heart?

Elizaveta stopped at the door as her hand curled around the doorknob. The cold metal felt like ice, and she was nearly convinced that it was telling her not to leave. At the same time, the Hungarian's heart gnawed at her, giving her a different opinion by demanding that she go back to Roderich and never come back. But... Her lips pursed as she intently stared at the handle; her emotions couldn't make up their minds. Her hand sat on the doorknob long enough so that it sucked out some of her warmth while she debated what to do.

The Hun let out a sigh as she felt Mathias' eyes settle on her, but kept her gaze on her hand. "This...isn't a joke, is it, Mathias?" Her voice had long lost its hostile tone and questioned the Viking seriously, hoping that the Dane understood what she was speaking about.

Mathias stiffened at her words. He felt a mix of emotions once more, glad that the Hun had said something, but another feeling tugged at him, one he couldn't seem to name. He stared silently at her for a while, as if just taking a step back to observe her as she stood still, hand on the door handle. Mathias felt himself being drawn to her all over again.

"A joke?" He responded in almost a whisper, his voice questioning. A joke? A game? Reality? No, it wasn't a joke. If she was talking about what he thought she was...No, it is not a joke. That much the Dane could confirm from the swarm of feelings he felt.

He noticed that the Hungarian had left her knife laying on the ground. Mathias picked it up and silently walked up behind the Hun, not keeping his eyes off of her. He finally managed to say something, his voice a bit stronger. "No, Eli." As he spoke, he smoothly took the knife and replaced it to it's place on Elizaveta's thigh, his fingers lingering at the feel of her skin before drawing away. "This isn't a joke."

Elizaveta's heart further throbbed once the Dane answered. If what I'm feeling is truly real...what am I supposed to do? Yes, she came upon many problems whenever she was with Roderich - even so, the Hungarian loved him dearly, even if they were divorced. But to have an affair with a Nordic, however, would cause even more problems than what her ex-husband went through. And she found herself to yearn for Mathias more than the Austrian. If any other nation found out that Elizaveta leaned for someone else other than Roderich, then they would know that something's definitely up.

But does Roderich love me from the bottom of his heart, or is he unwillingly taking care of me? That question wandered in her head for quite some time.

Elizaveta exhaled lightly as Mathias brushed the skin on her thigh, her lust for him once again ascending. Her eyes shut as her free hand instinctively grabbed the hand that returned her knife, a sign showing that she couldn't let go of him, even if her other hand was on the doorknob. The Hun's emotions pulled her in both directions - to Roderich and to Mathias - but the indecisive Elizaveta made no move. Realizing that she wouldn't be able to do anything without Mathias' help, she whispered to him, "Take me to where I belong."

Mathias froze when Elizaveta grabbed his hand, preventing him from moving it away. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of the Hungarian, his fingers tingling from touching her soft skin. His blood slowly began to rush again as he longed for the woman standing so close to him. I've never felt like this before. For a moment, Mathias questioned his own sanity. What was he feeling, and what was he getting himself into? He felt like the questions had been asked before, and had been left without answers for good reason. The other Nordics, if they found out any of this...what would they think?

Elizaveta's question pulled on his heart more than anything ever had before. His own selfish desire for her was too great, he couldn't give a damn about anyone else at that moment. He knew she must be thinking of Roderich-hell to him. They're divorced. Mathias was selfish, he knew it, but it couldn't be helped. He stood there for a moment longer, her words still echoing in his mind. The Hun sounded so weak, so vulnerable, so real at that moment, that Mathias ended up gently pulling her away from the door, turning her around, and wrapping her in an embrace.

Elizaveta allowed herself to fall into Mathias' arms, returning the embrace; her fingers rattled as they dug into Mathias' clothes, her eyes on the verge of letting streams of tears roll down her cheeks. She didn't want to cry - she didn't know if she was due to her distress - because then her weak side would be exposed. The Hungarian disapproved of shedding tears, for she was the Hun that almost everyone feared; since when would a Hun cry? And in front of a Viking? If Elizaveta was crying, the water would lightly soak the Dane's shirt anyways, as her face was buried in his chest. His warmth assured her that she was living in heaven, but at the same time, the Hungarian was living in hell.

Mathias felt a surge of warmth through his body when Elizaveta returned the embrace. He tightened his hold on the Hun, leaning to rest his chin on her head, her hair tickling his nose. He felt as if he could stand there forever, like this, filled with the scent of the Hungarian with each breath. As they stood there, he felt something warm soak through his shirt...tears?...She's crying? The Dane felt that tugging at his heart again. He held her even tighter now, burying his face into her hair, eyes closed.
"Eli..." His whisper sounded so desperate, so...fragile. He couldn't believe how weak he sounded. What's wrong with me?

The Hungarian then turned her head, her left ear now pressed against his chest and listened to his rapid heartbeats. "I don't want to let go," Elizaveta murmured, "but I want to at the same time." Her arms straightened out so that she could look at Mathias properly, forming eye contact. Her eyes searched for an answer to a question she didn't seem to have. The Hun seriously had no idea what was going on anymore - with what was happening, with Mathias, and with her life.

"We're ruining each others' lives," Elizaveta uttered unwillingly.

Mathias' heart skipped a beat at her words. He looked down at her, the wave of emotions starting all over again upon making eye contact. He lifted his right hand and brushed away her tears with his thumb, gently stroking her cheek. He remained silent for a few more moments, contemplating. So we feel the same way. He then leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. staring straight into her green eyes.

"But are we really?" He whispered back, not sure of the answer himself.

Elizaveta sighed heavily, her breath wavering as she did so. Mathias' loving touches killed her - she wanted him, so much, but she wanted to tear away from his arms, too. For some other reason aside from Roderich, something prevented her from taking the Dane - the other Scandinavian countries? she thought, then realized that she was right. The way Mathias treated the other Nordic nations was just an amazing sight to see, but for her to barge into their family...it just seemed wrong. She didn't belong with them, and never would.

Mathias' question further pained her. She slowly shook her head, not to say no but to say that she didn't know. Never had in her life did she feel lost as she was now. Elizaveta, feeling herself close up on the inside as she pondered on the things that could happen if separated Mathias from his 'family' or joined it abruptly, took a step back as the Hun's arms slid off of the Dane's body. Her thoughts, which unintentionally came out as audible words in the form of an aching whisper, said, "I can't be with you."

Mathias felt the Hun's uncertainty in her actions. Well, this is wonderful, he thought, we're both indecisive and unknowing as hell. He wondered what thoughts were going through her mind in that instance, who was she thinking about, what was she thinking about?

Her movement away from him, and her words, pained him. His heart nearly went cold as he stared at her, not knowing how to respond. Why? He wanted to ask, but was afraid-afraid?-of the answer. It ached him to think about all of this, about what was going on, about the thoughts that both of them must be having, feelings both must be feeling. Mathias sighed, feeling a headache about to start from it all. But he braced himself, reading the Hungarian one time before responding.

"Why?" There, he asked it. The dreaded question with an answer he didn't know what he wanted to hear. What was holding her back, what holding him back? No, nothing was holding him back. He didn't care about anything else that moment, he just wanted her, right then, right now, in that very moment.

Elizaveta, being the Hungarian she was, let everything out, whether or not she liked it - she was naturally expressive and could literally share her emotions with anyone she spoke to. Her voice was raised, cracking now and then: "I can't just leave Roderich, Mathias! He has done so much for me that, if it weren't for him, I probably wouldn't even be living right now." The Hun had a feeling that the Dane would scowl at her for mentioning the Austrian, but this was what he asked. "And...I would be distancing you from the others." There was no way she would let herself state that straightforwardly - it was just too rude. What would happen if Mathias was no longer a part of them, the Nordic family...?

The Dane listened to her, the cracking of her voice hurting him more than the words themselves. He let her speak, standing silently, expression unchanged. Of course, Roderich. That he knew was something holding Elizaveta back. But the mention of the Nordics surprised him. She's actually worried about that? Mathias' eyes narrowed, still staring into the Hungarian's green ones. He wanted to reach out and embrace her again, but wasn't sure if he should. Instead, he took a step towards her, their bodies almost touching, and put a finger under her chin, gently moving it up to look directly at him.

"Eli," he started, wondering why it hurt so much now to even say the nickname he had for her. "That's understandable. But..." He tried to think of the right way to word his thoughts, without sounding offensive. His voice was just above a whisper as he finally spoke again: "You left him. You both divorced. You're independent." It almost made him angry that the thought wasn't getting to the Hungarian's head. "You two are no longer thought of as a pair. That was years ago. Has he shown you any sign of true affection after you two separated?" He did his best to keep his voice level, not wanting to raise it. "And the others...you'd be the last thing that could possibly distance us." Mathias shook his head. "If after eleven wars Berwald and I still call each other family, believe me, you're not going to change anything."

You both divorced. She could feel her heart get stabbed with a knife with those words. But Elizaveta knew that he wasn't trying to rub it in her face offensively, especially when he reminded her that she was free. Elizaveta delved further into her thoughts with the rest of Mathias' words - what he said about hers and Roderich's relationship was exactly what she thought. But what if Roderich really was still attached to her? No, that's not likely at all. Setting that thought aside and ignoring his question about Roderich intentionally, Elizaveta frowned at the Dane, not replying with any words.

Instead, her hand retreated for the door, this time not hesitating to turn it and open it slightly. Her heart was stabbed again as she moved against her will; she shook her head again, muttering out of the blue, "I just can't." Quickly enough so that Mathias couldn't catch her, Elizaveta swerved out the door, sprinting as fast as she could to get out of the castle.

A/N:

Again, this is how we drive our roleplay: people barging in on them. We'll probably be infamous for that. xD And, once again, mood swings and angst. The next few chapters are going to be emotional. :c

Notice that Sweden gets passed on from xNeyu to Amerzt pretty much right after he comes in. We think we mentioned this before, but the two of us take on many more characters, starting the next chapter. We thought that Hungary and Denmark shouldn't always be together throughout the roleplay and needed to be separated at some point or another, so that's why we decided to roleplay more APH characters. c:

Also, there's this little joke that we have, concerning the Denmark and him thinking think, think, think...xNeyu told Amerzt that when she read that line, she burst out laughing because she imagined Denmark in a Winnie the Pooh outfit, with his hand tapping his head and other head on chin as he said think, think, think. xD WE MIGHT GET KILLED FOR POINTING THAT OUT, HAHAHA.