(A/N: I know I said these will not be common, and hopefully, they will not be. I know you are all here for the story, not the silly author's notes! Anyways, I would like to thank everyone who corrected me on the whole dollar/euro thing. Being American, I just kind of assumed dollar could be used as a slang term for money elsewhere like cash and bucks. But, if you would like to go back, I have fixed all of the errors saying dollar! If I have missed any and anyone notices, please just tell me. I want this to be somewhat polished. Also, I apologize for my lack of updates, I had some life issues. Enjoy, and as always, thanks so much for the support! -Tuuli)

My life went on, in chops like that, not much significant happening in between. I filled my days with work and talk with my only two friends. I had decided after awhile that both Berwald and Eduard were friends, but in different ways. Back in Helsinki, I did have friends, so it wasn't like I was totally alienated on the subject. But before, everyone had befriended the Tino I had been trained to be, which was not necessarily the Tino I really was. These two were really friends to me. Berwald more so than Eduard I think, only because he knew the whole story. Mrs. Oxenstierna was sure to make a point that I did not tell a soul about my being a runaway, and I figured Eduard couldn't be an exception to that rule. So all in all, Berwald was closer to being friends with the real Tino Vainamoinen than anyone has ever been in the history of the entire world. And I was fine with that. I enjoyed the nearly one-sided conversations we had.

"This is a really awesome sweater." I smiled as I washed the dishes, while he swept the floor just behind me. "Thanks for giving it to me. That was really nice of you." Not like he had a use for it anymore, and not like he even had a choice in giving it to me. From what I had witnessed, his mother had simply begun rummaging through the back of his closet, pulling out all the stuff she recognized immediately that he would no longer fit. Luckily for me, he went through an ugly sweater phase back when he was my size, and I really love ugly sweaters. I think they suit me quite well, though it was honestly hard to picture him ever wearing it. Even when he was my size... But I really couldn't even picture him as my size.

He glanced up, nodding to me. He liked to look at people when they spoke, I noticed, just like his mom did. I liked it when he did it, I liked having any attention at all. But especially attention from someone like him. If it wasn't prevalent already, I am never going to be entirely over how he looks. When I told Eduard I wished I looked like Berwald passively, he told me that he was too intimidating to be considered hot. That consideration was something I had never considered though. Straight faced as he was, he just didn't frighten me. I liked how he looked. "I wore it a lot when I was in seventh grade." He responded.

So, my body was equivalent to a seventh grade Berwald. I knew now. It didn't make me feel small though or anything, I knew the guy was simply unrealistically big. I wasn't petite! (Okay, I am. But I am not gonna admit that. I'm just short, okay? Geez, leave me alone...)

"Why'd you stop wearing them?" I mused out loud. After all, I had not once seen the man wear a sweater. Most the time, he just wore plain t-shirts. I managed to tease him one time for wearing an ABBA shirt, only because I felt like delivering such a low blow. Not like I really cared, I liked ABBA too. I always kind of assumed he only listened to really hardcore stuff, throwing him with that whole big guys like metal stereotype. Which is bull for me of all people to follow, considering my size and how much metal I have melted my ears listening to.

His broad shoulders shrugged. I liked his shoulders. I know it is a super random body part to like, but I like what I like. Sometimes I wonder if he notices how much I stare randomly at him. The first time we met I had been giving off some pretty obvious stares, after all. One thing I have realized though, Berwald is the definition of dense. I could probably blatantly state right now how I looked at him a lot, and he would wind up convincing himself it never happened. "Shoulders stretch em out."

Hm. Guess having shoulders like that took away sweaters. If that was the truth, I was suddenly extremely thankful that I was not as large as him. I love sweaters too much not to wear them. "I would hate that. Do you miss them?" I pry, hoping to get a response.

A sigh escaped his lips, and that was actually the first time I looked at his lips. I was shocked that I hadn't look at them before. You know, I always went on about his face, and his lips were on his face. So how didn't I notice it? They were pale, and they looked soft... Gah, horrifically kissable. But again, I don't like the guy. He's just hot. If he kissed me, I'd kiss back, but that didn't obligate me to marry him. "I guess. Not a big deal." Oh, his choppy sentences, how I clung to every word. To me, he was like a novel that left you hanging to every word. Except, he was a short novel, with not many words, and not much of a story.

I knew a little about his 'story' I guess. Here is all I know about Berwald Oxenstierna. He's quiet, he likes woodcraft, he used to like sweaters, he's allergic to bees, he was close to his dad, he's hot, and he has exactly two friends. I didn't understand his friends though, because he didn't really get along with the Dane down the road who claimed to be buddies with Berwald. They just fought a lot. But now that I really, really think about it, it wasn't over anything serious. Still, I don't think I ever witnessed an entirely civil conversation between the two.

After that, we went quiet. But it was enough for me. And enough for him. After the dishes were washed, he left to go give lessons. So I left to my room, I had time to write an entry if I was quick, before Eduard noticed I wasn't working and obligated me to speak with him. The way I talk about him, you'd assume I didn't like the guy. Don't get me wrong, I do. I'm just not used to people like him, he's hard for me to comprehend. Maybe that came from his more perfect family life. I got along with Berwald, but his dad was dead. Maybe a person's family affected them more than I had ever considered.

In any case, I hope that being affected didn't lead me to ever being like my parents. I am way too young to be considering kids, but even I know I will never treat my children in the manner mine did me. That was on my mind as I cracked open that familiar old journal of mine. A smile crept on my lips, as I had managed to not lose the pen I had brought with me for this journey. It was almost out of ink, but I was stubborn, and for some reason, I was determined to use all the ink in this damn pen.

Today has been good. I talked to Berwald. He has nice lips.

Anyways, yesterday Eduard asked me for my phone number, and I had to tell him I didn't have one. He really wants to remain in contact with me, saying I'm a good friend. I'm not sure why he thinks that. Most of the time I am super dismissive of him, and I feel kinda bad about that. Anyways, apparently he values our friendship enough to try it the old fashion way, sending letters. I don't mind the idea, I just don't get why he's so quick to be friends with me.

I guess he's just lonely, but so am I. He's super clingy, but he's easier to talk to than anyone else. Berwald just listens on and on, but doesn't say much. I kinda wish he would say more... Maybe I can get more out of him. I mean, I live with him, it's only natural to wanna know more about the guy. Totally natural.

Mom and dad still haven't tried to find me to my knowledge. I hope that keeps up.

I closed my journal, putting it back in my desk.

That night, Eduard hadn't come up to speak to me, which was surprising for me. Talking to the Estonian was routine for me by now, a part of my day I could expect to be there. So when I glanced over at the old-styled clock on my wall and discovered it was already well past nighttime and no show from Eduard, I was a little worried.

Standing from my bed, I remembered. This was his last night before he headed home. He lived in a really big town in Estonia, and he had told me a little about it. A big house, a huge lawn, two dogs. Perfect life, essentially. Kind of boring. I mean, not to to say having a bad life makes life more interesting, but... Well, it does. It makes it more interesting. But not more enjoyable. It's torture to live, but fun to hear about. That has always confused me, how true it is. After all, in schools, they always go on about how a story has to have conflict. Having no conflict made it stale, by a teacher's standpoint.

Me and my over-analysis. How amusing.

I found myself knocking on Eduard's door. After some consideration, I almost turn back. His parents might be there, preparing him for their leave. I'd be interrupting, but those little worries dissipated as soon as the familiar blonde opened up the door, greeting me with a nice, white smile. "Tino! Hey!"

Smiles must be contagious. Upon seeing his, I ended up smiling as well. "Hey, Ed. Everything in your room okay?"

A nod. "Yes, yes. It's all fine. Do you have time to hang out a little bit? I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Of course." I respond, taking it as an invitation and stepping into his room. Eduard was one of the more mindful guests, which was evident as an employee. He made his bed himself, and made sure everything was in shape. Hell, I think he treated the small room as his own. The only thing I ever had to do was take out the trash, replace the toiletries, and of course replace towels. His respect was something I valued, as other guests certainly did not share the same regard. The things I've seen in this hotel... Especially the honeymooners. Those rooms are the worst to clean up after, for obvious reasons.

Again, my mind continued to wander off. I apologize for that, I do a lot of thinking. Eduard was on the other side of the room now, looking out his window. The sight wasn't too great honestly, just staring out at the back of another building. We were in a pretty populated area in Tornio, you couldn't expect much more. "So, we are friends, right?"

I nod. Of course we were friends! What else would we be? I know I can be really dismissive of him, but that was mostly because I was a pretty busy employee here. Not like I had anything against him. Maybe he was assuming that my occasionally dismissive nature was meant in a serious way or something? I wanted to be friends with him though. Eduard was nice. And he was really the only friend I had who liked to socialize beyond a few choppy words. Sure, Berwald was nice, and I fancied him, but I can be honest with myself and recognize Eduard to be a better speaker. "Yeah."

"Good." He smiled, still staring out the window. I wonder why he bothers. Like I said, not much of a sight, unless you appreciated the back of a building. "I was just kinda... Worried that we weren't or something."

I cocked my head. Why would the thought that we were not even pass his mind? "Did I do something?"

A shake of his head preceded, and a slight pause. Like he was considering his next words really hard. "No... You just seem... Well, no, I am sure you don't mean it." He turned around, leaning on the high-set window pane. He looked serious, as serious as I had ever witnessed Eduard at least. "It is super hard to explain. It's all just over-speculation, really... But um... Well... I just worry you pity me."

It was almost impossible to hold in my laughter, but by some miracle, I managed. Me. Pity him? Let us get the facts straight, before anything.

Here he was, Eduard Von Bock. Only son of unreasonably rich parents. Super smart. Fairly attractive. The man who screamed privilege. Why would teenage runaway, ex-thief me pity that? I'd kill for a life like that, so easy. And it sounded like his parents didn't abuse him. They left him away for months on end, that was evident, but that wasn't exactly abuse when they left him with all the money he could care to spend on room service.

"I don't pity you at all." Was what I managed to spit up as a response.

His eyes fell on me. I couldn't tell where he was looking exactly, be it my eyes or just my face in general, but it was me. Which wasn't really strange, he was talking to me. I just noticed it. "You sure?"

I nod. I am positive of that.

"That is good." The blonde managed to conjure up a smile, which was reassuring. It made the mood less awkward and tense. Which, no offense to him, was a feeling that always seem to creep up on me whilst in his presence. I got the impression that he was trying very hard to show off around me, or perhaps he just was wired to show off in front of everyone? All I knew was that he got awful boasty whenever I spoke to him. Telling me tales of extravagant vacations, expensive things he had back home. It made me a little bitter, but he was my friend, so I let it pass. But I had nothing to call mine permanently, save for my journal. And he... He had it all.

An awkward silence prevailed between us for a moment. His smile did not last long, and he seemed to quiver. The air was tense again... Great. Would he expect me to break yet another very uncomfortable silence? I was getting quite sick of-

"Do you like anyone?"

I actually would have much rather preferred breaking the silence myself, and I only realized that when those shaken words escaped his lips.