UPDATED A/N: THIS CHAPTER IS A RE-PEAT. PLEASE GO TO CHAPTER 14: UPDATE TO ANSWER ANY QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS MISSING CHAPTER.
A/N:
OHMYJKLJLHLH I FINALLY UPDATE!
Sorry for the long delay. I've been awfully sick, just getting in my bed is a sore! It's been like this for three good weeks. I wasn't allowed to travel either during that period. Boy am I mad. BUT I'm finally okay enough to sit to type for short periods. So here you go. So sorry! Hate me not me story! ^.^
Thanks for reading thus far! :D
Russia was able to unlock the simple lock at the front door, courtesy of his sister Belarus always being able to sneak in his room back when they were with Ukraine. He quietly swung the wooden door open and closed it shut behind himself.
He glanced around the dark room quite a bit, his smile never changing, till his eyes met with something metal and glinting in the darkness. He grabbed the sharp object from the small table in what would be a living room and proceeded to walk into a room with the door wide open. Finland's figure could be seen from under mounds of blankets. He gripped tightly on the pair of scissors in his cold hand.
"Where are you going Sweden?" asked Iceland as he sat on a worn out straw couch, Puffin in his lap as he gave the small bird small chunks of cookies. The quiet blond only kept buttoning up his coat.
"I have to go say sorry to Russia," said Sweden. In the kitchen washing the dishes, Denmark dropped the one he was scrubbing and waltzed over to the living room.
"So what? The jerk has possessive problems! Leave him alone I say," he grumbled as he crossed his arms, obviously still embarrassed about being called an idiotic jerk.
"But he's my friend," stated Sweden putting on a scarf.
"And your ours!" growled Denmark as he grabbed at Sweden's shoulder with a wet hand. Sweden pulled back.
"You all acted like he killed someone," he said angrily.
"And he acted like he's some sort of family to you!" hissed Denmark.
"He might be right Sweden," said Norway in his usual calm and stoic voice a he came inside the living room from the kitchen, "he is very attached to you. But not in a positive way. It's as if he needs you."
"Don't all friends need each other?" asked Sweden raising a brow. Norway shook his head.
"Why yes. But, the way he is attached to you is almost bordering hostility for us. He is way too attached to you and you seem to unknowingly boost his ego he is misinterpreting as usual affection," explained Norway.
"Don't patronize me," mumbled Sweden as he opened the door.
"Hey you big lug if you step outta that door your just gonna make things worse for yourself and that jerk! You know we only want to help you but that brat is like pushing you away from us!" cried Denmark angrily. Sweden gave a small turn to the blond boy.
"I don't like it how he treats Finland either," he mumbled giving them a weak glance and shut the door behind himself. He didn't know what to think. True that his new friend wasn't really fond of his only friends but the thought of Russia being so cruel and sneaky with Finland just made him tremble with anger.
He'll settle all this out when he goes and apologizes to Finland.
At the thought of the small blond and meek boy he blushed.
"Hope these are still warm when we get there," he mumbled to himself as he checked under his black coat at a small basket full of Iceland's warm pastries and a small mug of warm chocolate.
Finland stirred in his sleep a little, feeling a light tug. He didn't want to wake from his sweet dream. Above him Russia stood clipping at the boy's hair with the scissors in his hands.
Sweden likes you so much does he? Well he'll never like you when you're all bald and wet with tears.
He snipped at random pieces of hair, a small smile creeping into his pale and cold face.
"Mnn," the small boy moaned as he turned a little in his sleep. Russia stopped his snipping for a sec and observed the boy's relaxed face.
"Hmph," he said as he put a cold finger in the boy's hot mouth. Finland thought it was part of his dream, food from the tea party he and his small friend Latvia were having. He nibbled on it. Disgusted, Russia pulled his finger out.
He then turned and pushed open at the door and quietly, just as he had come in, left.
As Sweden pushed his glasses up from the fog of his warm breath created he spotted the trail Finland had left.
Hmm. That's strange; the snow usually covers footprints up by now.
He kept on walking taking note at how odd some footprints seemed bigger than the other. Almost as if there was a second person.
I don't remember seeing Finland with anyone else.
The idea of a stalker, a dangerous stranger that Norway had warned all the Nordics about keeping away from crept into mind.
Sweden picked haste in his step and walked faster, his glasses still a little foggy. As the sight of Finland's small home came into view he panted quietly until he heard a shriek.
He began to run despite the deep snow and, as much as he wanted to question, shoved the unlocked front door wide open.
"Finland!" he cried as he settled the basket on the floor and looked for the small boy in his room. Still in the pitch of darkness, he saw a small figure shaking in a bed.
"Finland?" called out Sweden as he grabbed the small figure's hand.
"H-he cut my hair!" cried the small Finnish boy. Sweden's eyes widened as Finland pressed his small face into Sweden.
"He cut my hair! He cut it! Look at it! My head hurts! It hurts so much Sve! What did I ever do to him!" sobbed the small boy. Sweden reached for a candle and lit it with a match on the nightstand table besides the bed. As he turned back to the small crying boy, he felt his heart drop. Finland's used to be sweet and light blond hair was sprinkled everywhere on the floor and on the boy's bed. He could see bald spots in the boy's head.
"Stop staring! Don't look at me!" cried the small boy as he covered himself with the blankets.
"F-Finland . . ?" Sweden mumbled delicately as he tried tugging at the blankets.
"Stop it Sve!" screamed Finland in a terrified voice.
Quiet sobs filled the room as Sweden stared at the trembling bulge of blankets.
"Nothing is different," mumbled Sweden.
"Different? My hair is missing! He cut my hair!" cried the small boy as he turned to meet Sweden's eyes full of anger.
"What? Who? The intruder?" he asked with an innocent face.
"It was Russia! He cut my hair! I saw him when he left! Sve, he cut my hair and it hurts!" he boy sobbed.
He grew more terrified when he didn't hear make a noise.
"I know you won't believe me. You never believe anyone. C-could you please leave? I want to be alone . . . ," lied the small boy. He then shuddered as he felt a pair of small warm arms wrap around himself.
"No," the older blond whispered as he rubbed his face into Finland's neck. Only the blanket kept them apart. Finland was thankful; his whole face turned red.
"I believe you. Of course I believe you. You would never lie," he muttered as he rubbed the small boy's back.
"Oh Sve!" cried the small boy as he pulled both his small arms from under the blanket and hugged the older boy tightly.
"I'm sorry I pushed you away earlier. I'm sorry I've been letting Russia harass you. Please forgive me," he whispered with a shaking voice, almost as if it were to cry. Finland's never seen Sweden cry before. He peaked beyond the blanket, but it became unnecessary once he felt warms tears on the blanket.
"Of course I do, you're my friend," said Finland with a faint smile.
"C'mon, let's look at your hair and clean up. I brought food," mumbled Sweden as he first pulled away and rubbed at his eyes.
"B-but don't laugh," mumbled Finland as he grabbed tightly at the blankets around his face.
"Why would I?" asked Sweden as he pulled the blankets off. Finland flinched hearing a faint giggle.
He looked from beyond the blanket now up to his chin as he stared at Russia's shadowy figure standing by his bedroom doorway. Sweden defensively stood in front of the small boy.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" asked Russia with a small smile with his hands tucked behind.
"What are you doing here?" asked Sweden leering at him angrily.
"The door was open so I decided to come inside. It's freezing cold out there. There's a blizzard blowing by," explained the boy.
Finland grabbed onto one of Sweden's arm, burying his terrified face into Sweden's back.
"Why did you cut his hair?"
"My, so blunt," giggled Russia. Sweden frowned deeper.
"Why did you cut his hair!" he yelled.
"Do you think he still looks cute and fuzzy?" asked Russia tilting his small head. Sweden's eyes widened. Finland looked up, feeling Sweden retreat back.
"That doesn't matter. You hurt him," he growled.
"You don't like him as much do you? Doesn't he look funny? But it's not his fault he looks funny. He can't help it," the small boy murmured as he paced around the room, circling around them. Sweden's eyes were glued on the boy.
"What are you getting at?"
"It wasn't my fault big sister left me. It was her fault for being so weak. She could have defended me but she chose to be safe," said Russia in a dark tone.
"?" Finland leaned in closer to hear the Russian boy. How does any of this have to do with his sister?
"She meant well," mumbled Sweden,"you can never seem to understand that. I told you, she loves you."
"Do you love me?" asked the silver haired boy tilting his head as he paused. Finland's hands clutched tighter at the older boy's coat.
" . . . I love all of my friends," said Sweden raising his chin. He didn't flinch as he heard Russia stab the wooden wall with the pair of scissors.
"Hah, right," smiled Russia. He turned to walk out, not hearing what he had hoped.
"Now I know how you really feel. We're all equal under your eyes."
"Of course," frowned Sweden.
"I don't think that sits well with Finland," Russia turned past his shoulder to eye the Finnish boy. Sweden looked down at Finland who stared at Russia with a reddened face.
"Finland?"
The boy pulled away from Sweden and avoided eye contact from either of the boys.
"See; you make us sad. Finland and I are alike in so many ways. Mostly this," Russia yanked the pair of scissors out of the wall and pointed it at Sweden.
"We'll do anything for what we want. That is why I like Finland best."
The two Nordics raised a brow at this.
"Heh, I'm sorry Finni. I had to use you as an example to prove something to myself. I was hoping for Sweden to prove me wrong."
Young Russia dashed towards Sweden. Too late to react Russia yanked Finland up. Sweden fell back on the floor as Russia grabbed tightly on the boy's shaking shoulders, taking in every feature he could.
"Hmm. I think you and I will have a lot of fun in the future," smiled the boy as he let go of Finland.
He headed for the door leading outside where he turned back to look at Sweden and Finland, still in shock.
"I'll see you later Sweden," the silver haired boy smiled clutching onto the pair of scissors and leaving outside.
Before Finland could help Sweden up, the tall blond ran for the door where Russia had left.
"Russia!" yelled Sweden as he poked his head from beyond the door. He then ran outside into the blizzard. He tripped into the deep snow.
"R-Russia!" he yelled as he glanced around, looking for the boy.
"Sve!" cried Finland running after the taller blond, a blanket tied to his neck as a long coat," please Sve," he begged as he tugged at the man to get up, "come inside where it's warm!"
Sweden pulled away harshly.
"I have to find Russia! He'll get lost!" cried Sweden narrowing his eyes angrily at Finland. Something in the small boy snapped.
"I said get inside Sweden!" yelled the boy, "he's gone!"
Sweden looked at the boy surprised as he was yanked up.
"But Russia . . ."
"Get inside now!" Finland exclaimed shoving Sweden back inside.
As Finland closed his door and put on an emergency lock, Sweden stood in the middle of the living room nervously staring at the wooden floor.
"I'm sorry," he uttered with a pained face. He couldn't help being concerned for the confused silver haired boy.
With the silence, Finland became more self conscious about his head.
"Come here, let's take care of that," he gave a small grin as he approached the small boy. Finland's cheeks turned pink as Sweden grabbed his hand and led them to the kitchen. There he sat the boy down to look thru his scalp for any cuts.
"Sve . . . is something wrong with Russia?" he asked in a quiet tone.
"He's confused. He is still hurting from his sister's necessary abandonment," mumbled Sweden, "I'm sorry. He is my friend no matter what. I have to look out for him and all of you."
"But . . . he cut my hair," uttered Finland. Sweden rubbed a piece of cloth on a scratch he found.
"Of course that's bad. But I can't hit him or anything. "
" . . . what are you going to do?" asked Finland in a small meek tone. Would Sweden continue to defend Russia not matter what the boy did? It wasn't fair; Russia always bullied him. Sweden shouldn't be defending him! H-he should be defending me!
"Nothing."
Finland felt his heart drop.
He's going to let Russia do whatever he wants without any consequences?
"Sve . . . "
"He's not a baby. He can fend for himself. He doesn't need me to keep looking out for him," he muttered. Finland turned to the boy with a small smile.
"Really?" asked Finland relieved Russia will stay away from them.
"Yes," said Sweden turning the Finnish boy around and continuing to look for any other scratches.
"Thanks Sve . . . I feel much more relieved," smiled Finland. Sweden gave a pained face, glad that Finland couldn't see it.
" . . . your welcome."
Later in the evening the two had finished cleaning up the hair scraps on the floor and blankets and were finished eating.
"I finished," said Sweden sitting on a small wooden chair in the kitchen. Finland turned around, a scarf tied to the top of his head as he sweeped.
"It's so cute Sve!" squeaked Finland as he took a white burette from Sweden's hands.
"Now you can be warm and not embarrassed," said Sweden as he stood up from the chair. Finland ran to a small mirror to check himself out. He was glad in covered all of the bald spots.
"P-please Sve, don't tell the others! I don't want them to worry any more or get mad," begged the small boy turning to the stoic blond. Sweden gave a small nod.
"I won't tell them. Can I stay over the night?" asked Sweden looking out a small window. The blizzard had calmed down so now it was just lightly snowing. Still it was freezing cold outside and it was pretty dark.
"Sure Sve, I'll go make another bed!" said Finland till Sweden grabbed him.
"I need to go get some more firewood if one of us is sleeping on the couch," said Sweden already tying his scarf back on. Finland turned around sharply.
"No! It's dangerous outside at night!"
"Then we should sleep on your bed, the floor is too cold."
Finland's face turned red.
"No Sve!" the boy panicked.
"Then let me go get the firewood," the boy said.
"Fine, you win," frowned Finland as he threw another coat at the boy, "be safe!" he cried.
"Of course," said Sweden as he strapped it on. Finland then handed him a small glass-encased candle.
"If you're not back in a while I'm going to come find you!" the boy warned as Sweden stepped outside with the candle lighting his way in the dark.
"Alright. Bye," he said giving a small wave. Inside Finland closed the door slowly behind himself and grabbed his shoulders. His face hadn't changed shade of red since Sweden's startling remark.
"Maybe I'm just getting sick," he told himself in a nervous laugh. As he calmed down he looked back at the mirror and re-adjusted the white circular hat on his head. He gave a small smile.
"It might not be perfect, but Sve made it and that's what counts," he said himself. After a few seconds something surfaced in his mind.
"Oh ho," he uttered as he ran to the door.
"Sve! Come back! Sve!" he cried in the darkness. No sign of the boy's direction or a glimpse of the candle's light was seen.
Russia still has the pair of scissors with him.
Meanwhile, the small candle lantern strapped to his waist, Sweden picked up loose branches way's away from the back of Finland's home. He had about a good 20 in his small arms.
"That should be enough," he told himself as he reorganized the bunch. As he began walking still looking at the wood, he bumped into something.
"Hello."
Or rather someone.
Sweden stepped back startled as he stared at the silver haired boy. He didn't say anything as the Russian paced around him, holding his hands behind.
"What are you doing out here in the cold? Don't you want to be inside with Finland?" asked the boy.
"Leave him and my friends alone," Sweden growled with narrowed eyes at the boy.
"But I love playing with them," he smiled.
"You do nothing but make Finland cry. Just because your jealous doesn't mean you can do whatever you want!" yelled the boy angrily.
"I'm not jealous!" yelled Russia with a faint pink blush.
"Then leave Finland alone!" he demanded.
"He deserves to be bothered because he can't defend himself!" sneered Russia.
"Neither can you," Sweden spitted. At that Russia lunged and pushed Sweden to the ground on his back. Sweden tried his best to keep the wood in his arms.
"Yes I can. I don't think we should be friends anymore then."
"Leave Finland alone. I don't want you hurting him again," said Sweden as he picked himself up.
"Well then we won't. I wanted you to be my brother," said Russia with his back turned to Sweden.
"You have two sisters. You can't replace them."
"I want to be in my family too."
"Why?" he asked bluntly, "why are you never with your other friends?"
"Because I don't have any! You're the only one that cares about me!" cried Russia.
"You have to calm down. You're still upset about your sister," said Sweden as he approached the boy.
"How do you know?"
"Because I was the same. But my family helped me out. Denmark, Iceland, Norway; they all helped me. I used to misbehave too. Now I have Finland to take care of. He never has to see me be mean and I'm thankful for it," the boy muttered looking down at the ground with an optimistic expression.
"But I like you! You're so nice and never get mad at me!"
"That's because I want to help you see not everyone hurts you. Your sister didn't do it on purpose."
" . . . ," Russia rubbed his eyes as he began to cry silently.
"I can't let you hurt Finland or disturb my family. I'm afraid we can't see each other for a while," said Sweden looking away, "I'm mad at you."
Russia looked up from his wet hands at Sweden's cross expression. He was very furious with the silver boy and tried with all his might not to yell at him.
"But you just said . . ."
"You didn't have to push him all those times when I wasn't looking, or tease him, or cut his hair! That's the last straw!" said Sweden as he raised his voice. Russia's stunned expression turned to a blank one.
"I see. I understand," he said turning to look of at the ground, shy of his accusations, "I still want to be more than a friend like your 'family'."
"I don't take kindly to shameless people," murmured Sweden. Russia dropped a pair of scissors from his sleeve. It plopped on the white snow.
"I guess this is goodbye," he smiled. Sweden remained with his serious face as Russia turned around and walked off.
"Goodbye," replied Sweden as he turned back and headed back into the house with the scissors at hand. Not too far off was Puffin and Iceland observing the whole thing from a tree covered in snow.
"Sve! Sve! Are you okay!" cried Finland as he tried dashing up to Sweden that was barely reaching the back of his small home. The Finnish boy panted as he catched his breath, Sweden staring down at him surprised.
"I heard you scream and I had to rush over! I'm sorry I'm so worried but are you alright?" panted the small boy. Sweden raised a brow stunned.
"Of course," he mumbled.
"SVE!" cried Finland staring down at the scissors the boy held. Finland shook at the sight of them.
"It's alright," he muttered looking down at the scissors, "I found them," he lied. He twisted his frown feeling bad about it. But it would only bother the small Finnish boy even more if he knew . . .
"Oh. Okay. Let's go back inside and-"
"Finland."
"Yes?"
"Thank you for your concern," said Sweden as his cheeks crept pink, staring right into Finland's eyes. The boy's own face reddened.
"S-sure. Of course," he muttered as he looked away nervously. Sweden stood besides the boy and rubbed his head on the boy's new burette.
"Let's go home," he said in a low voice. Finland only nodded, too bashful to speak, as they both began to walk off.
Iceland only petted his small bird in between his knees cracking a smile at the sight. He only sighed; the Swedish boy's problems were surely just beginning.
"You're not lying to me are you!" cried Romano as he and Spain dashed inside of yet another utility closet. Somehow all of the personnel had begun to catch up with all of them. The two panted ferociously as they slumped on opposite walls.
"N-no. I'm not," panted Spain rubbing sweat off his forehead. Romano glanced away and began playing with the cuffs of his uniform.
" . . . . why didn't you ever tell me? Am I that scary?" muttered the boy nervously. Spain didn't need the light to see that Romano's face was burning red.
"B-because I didn't know how to. I surely didn't think I'd tell you in a place like this."
"You're pretty stupid. And a big idiot."
Spain nervously laughed, "aw don't insult this old man now. Sure I have my moments but what was I thinking telling you at a time like this huh? Boy I sure am stu-!"
"Be quiet for a sec, I'm not going to repeat myself."
Spain glanced up as Romano stood up from his spot and tried desperately to look the Spaniard in the eye, both fists beside his body shaking with nervousness.
"I . . . . I love you too."
Spain stared back dumbfounded. He then cracked a small smile.
"R-really?"
"YES REALLY! I'M PRETTY SURE ALWAYS THINKING ABOUT YOUR STUPID SELF AND STUPID SMILE AND how stupid you look not smiling a-and how you get me everything I need and how my stupid body gets so stupidly warm around you! My damn body is stupid for you!"
Spain began to laugh silently. Romano, still red-faced, narrowed his eyes annoyed and smacked a hand on Spain's cheek as he pulled his other arm into a fist, getting ready to punch the man when he felt his hand become wet. He looked closer to see Spain crying quietly.
"This is great. You like me so that means I don't have to worry about anyone ever again trying to be with you. You like me so that means everything I do is important to you. Now I'll always be first in your world . . . oh Romano I'm so feliz!" cried the Spanish man as he hugged Romano and continued his crying on the boy's shoulder. Romano scrunched his nose.
"I thought you were an old man! Old farts don't cry," he hissed as he gently raised an arm to pat Spain's back, "certainly not in front of their boyfriend either."
"-Sniff- H-heh, you called me your novio," grinned Spain pulling away from Romano, holding the boy's hands. Romano growled and turned away, not wanting to crack a smile at the sight of Spain's rather pathetic, surely not cute, face.
The two realized their closeness and both surprised how Romano had yet to pull away from his touch, they closed the gap between them and slowly met with a kiss.
At first, Romano pulled away with a stunned face, staring at Spain's neck, feeling so content and went back again for a second, this one lasting even longer. He felt so at peace having Spain's arms encircled around his torso.
Then he clawed at Antonio's collar and yanked the shirt down.
The Italian then proceeded to, to Spain's stunned confusion; shove the man down on the dark blue wall and onto the white floor. The younger brunette proceeded to almost ravage all of Spain's upper clothing as the boy impatiently began biting and sucking at the Spaniard's skin. Too baffled to really react, the Spaniard bent his chest more outward as the two began to kiss wetly now, almost eating off each other's faces, as Romano continued to claw at the Spaniard's tan skin, a bright light soon shined down on them. A group of wide-mouth nurses and security men stared down at the sight before them.
They dismissed these two dark, and really inappropriate, figures as the two individuals they were warned to chase.
"Well at least they're not breaking any of the hospital's rules," one nurse said as she slammed the door back shut, leaving the two young men, yet to stop, to keep going.
(Meanwhile…)
Prussia stomped down the hallway passing by the newborn warden.
Aww, babies are so cute and soft, he thought as he glued his face onto the glass. His little chick popped out from his cuff to almost gaze at the newborn infants sleeping. Prussia proceeded to jab his finger, softly, on the glass.
"I want one like that, and one like that, ooh and one with those exact hands, and . . ."
The idea of a baby version of himself crept into mind.
"Oh heck yes, all of these will be as handsome as I was when I was a baby. Maybe if Specs isn't so mad at me we can get tons and tons of babies!"
The small chick on his shoulder chirped in agreement.
"I don't know. I think ten'll be perfect. Better make it twelve babies to be safe. France might carry a few off. Of course," he brushed his fingers through his silver-platinum hair, "none will be as awesome as the original."
"Peu! Peu!" his bird chirped.
"Oh yeah. Fine fine, I'll make it so they all look like Specs. Now I just gotta wish them for Christmas…" the man ceased speaking as he looked down the hallway to see what looked like the creepy nurse pushing on a wheelchair with someone slumped in it.
If I didn't know any better, that's probably the creeper nurse that the evil Doctor works for. Wherever she's going, the doctor will bound to be there!
Prussia stuffed the small Gilbird into his coat as he hurriedly dashed down the hallway, making sure to slow down whenever a nurse was to pass. The creepy nurse, in fact Belarus, was getting inside the elevator as she pushed the man in the wheelchair inside. Prussia's eyes widened for a second.
Is that Japan? No way . . . that boy doesn't unglue himself from West or America.
He then arrived at the elevators, only to miss the girl. He looked at the arrows and numbers in red. Why was she going to the top floor? Nothing is there except for security.
He then pressed on another number, hoping to question the nurse about Sweden's location when suddenly the elevator door opened. A small crowd of patients boarded off. What was left instilled a shiver down Prussia's spine.
Russia's trademark grin poked barely past his usual scarf, wearing his casual khaki coat uniform. Prussia's widened eyes traced down to what sat in front of Russia in a wheelchair and connected to some sort of chrome tank.
"S-Sweden?"
The quiet man slept, or rather was being kept dormant with the gas in the chrome tank, wearing his usual dark blue uniform. The only difference in appearance was the mask over his mouth, the cast at his right hand and a scarf of his own around his neck. The albino noticed faint bruises on the man's check and whatever of his exposed skin from his neck and what the man's black gloves and cuffs couldn't reach.
"You fucked him . . . didn't you? Against his will . . . ," uttered Prussia in a low tone as he stared at the sleeping man horrified.
"Well I'm no fan of bondage either, but you do what you gotta do I suppose."
Not being able to speak above a whisper, Prussia turned to run for help when he felt something hard clamp around his left wrist. He turned to see Russia holding him in a steel grip.
"W-what are y-you . . . ?"
No . . . not again.
Germany turned the corner of the hallway, deciding it be a good time to use the elevators now that Italy had distracted the large crowd running after them when he noticed something odd poking through the elevators.
As he made a ninety degree turn, he saw his brother, Prussia, grabbing at the sides of the elevator and desperately reaching out into air. Russia tugged hard at the man's waist to get all his limbs inside. The two brothers met eye to eye before Prussia whispered something inaudible with a terrified face.
Germany's pupils only dilated further as Russia's hand grabbed at Prussia's face and yanked him inside. The elevator doors closed just as fast as the whole scene unfolded.
In the security room the brainwashed Italy only giggled as he saw the whole scene take place in the screen before him, proud of his little delayed-elevator-door show he just put with the mere touch of knobs and buttons. Indeed he was very pleased to be able to control all the cameras and doors around this place.
A/N: If you wanna know what Prussia said, it was " Don't tell him " as in 'Don't tell Austria.'
Yey Spain and Romano finally had A moment! I'm more of a RomanoxPrussia writer, so it was a lil' hard making the transition for this story. That couple needs more love so I do my best to contribute for it (in my other stories lol).
Review please! :3