Ingrid looked rather…uncomfortable. Reasonable- what teenager wants to talk about their boyfriend to their dad?

"It's complicated."

Norway laughed dryly. "My dear, I assure, whatever the complexity of the issue, I can handle it."

Says the man who…

Never mind; it'd take a goddamn novel.

"Some of the younger nations like to get together after meetings. That's where I met him."

"North Korea?" What a weird place to meet a communist.

"No."

Norway raised an eyebrow. Why hadn't he brought his coffee cup with him?

"That was when I met Ice's boyfriend. And he thought I would be a good fit for his friend." She paused. "So I agreed to meet him."

"And?"

She smiled slightly. "He was perfect. We…'clicked'. And I don't know what it's like to fall in love, but-"

"Was?"

"Yeah, I don't know. He just…he's kind of pushy."

"In what way?" Norway asked cautiously. If that boy-

"Like, he keeps asking me to do things I don't want to do."

"What kind of things?" Oh, North Korea was so dead.

She blushed. "I actually don't want to talk about it. Besides, I had a talk with him, and I firmly told him it wasn't going to happen."

Damn straight.

"But I'm thinking that maybe he just isn't right for me. Like, he lives soooooooo far away and we can't all be like Emil and fly back and forth every other week, especially when I don't even know if I like him that much… You get me?"

Norway had very little experience with modern long-distance relationships, so he couldn't really contribute anything on that front.

However, he did have some small experience in relationships (he was no France, but over a thousand years of experience had to count for something). And he had certainly been in love, even though it hurt.

"As your father, I think you should dump him faster than a hot potato. As you confidante, I think you must do whatever is in your best interest and most in-line with whatever you want or need right now."

"But that seems…" She trailed off, looking for the right word.

"Selfish? Maybe. But you still have a lot of life ahead of you. In a thousand years, none of this is going to matter anyway."

"Yeah."

"You'll find someone."

She shrugged. "Isn't that what you're supposed to say?"

"Yeah. Probably. But as we both know, I'm rather terrible at being a father."

She laughed softly. "You could say that again." She studied her hands for a moment. "Yeah, I'm going to tell him."

Norway nodded. Very sensible of her.

"I think Denmark made a cake."

She was immediately interested. "What kind?"

"Butter, I would assume. You know how he is," he replied fondly.

She stood. "You guys are cute as frick, you know that?"