And I Will Hold You Tightly
Her trunk was packed. She was all set to go and knew that ideally she should be gone before he came home so that they could both adjust to the feeling of not being by each other's side all the time. However, something kept her there, hovering in the room they had shared and breathing her surroundings for the last time. Her eyes scanned the room lazily as if searching for something before falling down again on her ready trunk, she heaved a sigh and picked it up before making her way for the door. Hungary sniggered to herself, when it was first proclaimed that she were to be married she had refused bitterly and expressed her distaste of the Austrian nation profusely, it was only until their bosses intervened entirely and forced the two to merge did she go along with it.
The first few weeks of their marriage was far from easy, she refused to see him and locked herself in her room, pitifully remembering her days running free and fighting better than half of the men she knew. Her husband made no attempt to move her but instead respectfully stayed away from her until it was night, even then he simply collected his pyjamas, bowed his head and left the room, murmuring that he would sleep on the couch until she said otherwise.
It was only until she heard him play did she leave her room. She had been told, of course, that he was brilliant musician, a virtuoso in every instrument he played and she had heard him play different instruments from time to time and had almost started to become fond of his violin playing. However, this was the first time she had heard him play so beautifully, she had attempted to ignore it at first and continue to brood but eventually she couldn't help herself and got on her feet before making her way to the door and pressing her ear up against it in an attempt to hear it clearer. She irritably huffed before opening the door harshly, workers around the house all stopped and stared in awe as her face appeared.
Hungary paused and listened, her brow puckered slightly and she started to walk down the corridor. It was only when men gasped and turned in an attempt to be respectful did she remember she was only wearing her nightdress but that didn't stop her. She needed to be closer to the sound, to witness it firsthand for herself. She followed the noise until it lead her to him. He was sat perfectly poised over the piano, his eyes were closed shut in concentration and his chest heaved with every bar he played. Honestly, he looked beautiful. No longer was he the stoic and unfeeling boy she met each night when he fumbled around to find his nightclothes, he was suddenly a passionate whirl of unexplained notions hidden behind a callous government and an even more calculating brain. His fingers stopped dead as he played the last, unfalteringly perfect, note.
She couldn't help but cough, suddenly urgently needing attention from her new husband. He jumped and turned around, at first his expression was angry and his mouth open and ready to yell at his intruder but he stopped dead when he saw the woman stood in the doorway. Instead his expression changed from frustrated to confused and he let his eyes framed behind those irritatingly distracting glasses rest on her for a moment.
"Were you eavesdropping?" he mumbled, uncertain of what to say. Hungary didn't let her gaze waver, she stared him out with her childlike green eyes before nodding decisively.
"Yes." He raised a brow and struggled to hold a bemused chuckle back before it escaped his lips and he angered his wife, this was the first time she had willingly seen him since their marriage and he wasn't about to make her change her mind and dart back into their room. Plus, the couch was only so comfortable for a while, he really wanted to be back in his bed. She looked at the floor and walked in hesitantly with her hands clapped behind her back, he smiled gently at her as she made her way reluctantly to his side, her head still bowed like a shy child. She let her fingers hover over the keys, not quite touching them but close enough to almost feel their coolness against her fingertips.
"May I?" she said, her voice ringing out with a confident clarity. He nodded slowly, Austria never let anyone touch his piano and admittedly it was a struggle to watch as she pressed her fingers down although not hard enough to make the keys sink and produce a note, she simply ran her digits on the smooth surface of them and smiled gently.
He stood slowly and hovered over her, Hungary's nose twitched at his scent all of a sudden becoming close, he had an aristocratic aroma that wasn't sweet enough to belong to a blithering girly fool or husky enough to belong to a brute of a man. His body arched around hers so that he didn't press up against her petite frame but his hand went over one of hers, slowly and unsurely.
"Try pressing down on them," he murmured, pressing the correct fingers to strike a chord. Her eyes widened and she turned around sharply so that they were now almost touching noses. He kept his face composed but a blush crept onto his cheeks, she blinked rapidly up at him before ducking her head and pushing past. Cursing quietly, Austria turned on his heel and called after her before she left the room,
"Miss Hungary… I'm very sorry," she paused before chuckling and turning around to face him again. She nodded, with a small smile on her lips.
"Rodreich, how about you sleep in your bed tonight?" he paused, his eyes scanned her face for any signs of sarcasm and when they found none he nodded with a gracious smile. She turned back around before whispering, "Please call me Elizaveta from now on."
It had been a sweet gesture but now it seemed so long ago. Her eyes were heavy with unshed tears and her chest heaved as she turned to flee the house before she was caught up in her emotions and bombarded with the want to stay. This was her home now, she had raised Italy here, she had worked as his maid, been his wife, most of her life was spent in this house and she didn't want to leave even if it meant she could run and act like a scruffy boy like she had desired to all those years ago.
"Goodbye bed, goodbye room, goodbye house," she murmured smiling half-heartedly as she started to walk away. Her heart felt heavy in her chest but endured the sensation with her head held high, too proud to show emotion even on her own. She went to grab the door but found the handle was pulled out of her reach and the door snapped open, revealing an equally obviously stressed Austria. She blinked up at him before giggling,
"Were you eavesdropping?" she whispered, her eyes falling on the floor. He nodded and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
"Yes," he said, his voice laced with more authority and confidence than she had ever heard. She grinned as their first proper meeting as man and wife played over in her head again, he took her chin between his forefinger and thumb and stroked her cheek.
"May I?" he muttered. That was it. She abandoned all pride or limits and lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling their bodies closer in an embrace, she heard his breath hitch but still buried her head into the crook of his neck and proceeded to cry like the stupid, insignificant woman she was expected to be. He stroked her hair in what he hoped to be a soothing fashion before pulling back so that he could see her face.
Hungary was not traditionally beautiful, her attractiveness was not as predictable as the adorable Liechtenstein, the elegant Taiwan or the er… robust Ukraine. She was interesting to look at, her smile was crooked, light freckles dusted her cheeks, her nose stopped short and was almost quite stubby and her eyes were gentle but possessed a curiosity that belonged to a child. Perhaps that's why he loved looking at her, because one had to truly look to see the youthful beauty she undeniably had, he brought his hands up to stroke away her tears, not liking the way they made streaks down her complexion and leaned in to kiss those gentle lips. She shook her head and pressed her hand against his chest, stopping him in his tracks before taking off his glasses and smiling up into his eyes.
She loved his eyes and got annoyed that they were always covered by glass, they bent down at the corners in a way that seemed regal and were almost overpowered by thick and long lashes. Hungary then smiled and pressed her lips to his. It was just a chaste, sweet kiss, one that was more accustomed to be shared between children. Austria smiled and bent his head so that it rested on her shoulder before breathing in her scent.
"I'm going to miss you," he murmured.