I could see how I WANTED this chapter to play out so clearly in mind, I just hope I did the idea justice.

Chapter Pairings: Sweden x Finland, hinting at Denmark x Norway

6. Miscommunications Part 1 (Sweden)

Sweden was as happy as he could ever remember being. He even allowed the corners of his mouth to turn up slightly as he sighed contentedly.

He was sitting on a couch, with his favorite person in the world wrapped in his arms: his little Finland. It was the first time since school had started back up that they'd been able to go out like a regular couple, and Sweden was enjoying it. They'd come to a cute little shop in town, a place that was both a bookstore and a café. They'd shared a pastry and had some hot chocolate and were now just resting, snuggled up, in the quiet store. No one else was nearby.

Sweden tightened his grasp around his boyfriend and laid his head on the other's shoulder, reassuring himself that this was real, he wasn't dreaming or fantasizing. His eyes were closed, but he could tell that Finland was blushing from the heat radiating from his face.

"This's n'ce," he murmured against Finland's neck, brushing the soft flesh with his lips. Finland made a soft noise of agreement and a few moments later, Sweden felt a hand on his face, delicately tracing along his jawline, tickling him ever so slightly.

"Su-san?" He heard Finland say in a quiet voice that seemed to tremble slightly. Sweden opened his eyes and lifted his head so he could look directly at him. Finland's eyes were brighter than usual, and Sweden saw that he hadn't been mistaken; he was blushing deeply.

"Wh't?" he questioned softly, trying his best to not scare his boyfriend. He knew that sometimes his face and voice came off the wrong way, so he tried not to talk too much, especially when it looked like Finland had something he wanted to say. Like now.

"Su-san, I've been w-wanting to tell you…" the small boy stammered, and Sweden could actually see and feel him shaking. Sweden was a little concerned, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. Finland's eyes, which until then had been staring pointedly around the area of Sweden's collarbone, suddenly darted up to his brow and an involuntary noise of distress seemed to issue from his throat. Still, he seemed to get himself back under control and swallowed hard. With his eyes squeezed tightly shut now, he tried again. "Su-san," he whispered. Then, suddenly switching from his pet-name to his real name, he blurted out, "Berwald, I…I love you!"

At first, Sweden was taken aback. That wasn't what he'd been expecting at all, and it left his mind blank and dazed for a few seconds. He could only stare at Finland, who continued to keep his eyes closed, as though he were expecting a bomb to go off. Eventually Finland cracked open an eye, peeking up in such an innocent, bewildered, adorable way that it made Sweden's heart ache.

'I love you!'

The sound of Finland's voice saying that simple sentence was still ringing in Sweden's ears. It was the first time either of them had dared to use the L-word aloud in this relationship, and his heart was racing at just the thought of it. He could feel himself blushing a little, despite his best efforts to remain calm.

"Su-san?" Finland asked again, almost inaudibly. He looked scared, and now his eyes weren't just bright, they looked close to tears.

Ah, I've waited too long to say something! Sweden realized. He'd just been sitting there with his mouth hanging slightly open, watching and thinking and feeling, but not saying anything. "I-" he started, but suddenly found his voice failing him. Finland watched him closely, expectantly…fearfully.

This is easy, I just have to tell him that I love him, too. But when he went to form the words, again, his throat seemed to close in on itself. He knew how he felt, he just couldn't say it. He'd never been a man of words: he'd always found that actions got him farther in life, anyways. Maybe I should just…

Abandoning the idea of saying it, he instead grabbed Finland by the shoulders and pressed their mouths together. In his haste, he was a little rougher than he intended, but he hoped he could convey what he was feeling with this single kiss.

But Finland broke away from him. He shifted backwards, away from Sweden, and looked at him, confused. Sweden cursed himself, figuring that he hadn't handled the situation well. He shook his head quickly, to clear his mind, and said, "I'm s'rry."

Okay. He was starting over now. He was fully intending to go back and to try to just say the words after all, but he never got the chance.

Finland was looking at him, openly mortified, and Sweden wondered exactly what he'd done now. He tried to think of something to say, but before he could even open his mouth, Finland was standing. Now it was obvious that Finland was trying desperately not to cry. Sweden's eyebrows furrowed. What have I done!

"Oh…um, I…I understand. I think I'm just…I'm going home." Finland rushed to the door of the shop, pausing to fumble with the coatrack. As he pulled his jacket off the hook, Sweden's, which had hung beside it, fell to the ground, and Finland didn't pick it up. A bell rang as he quickly pushed the door open, but Sweden could still hear a single sob before it shut behind him.

Oh, no, I've really done it this time… Sweden stood and ran to the door too, ignoring his fallen coat for the moment. He rushed out onto the sidewalk and shouted (a rare occurrence for him), "Tino!"

Finland was a decent ways away already, and didn't seem to hear him. Sweden watched him walk for a moment, saw him drag the back of his hand across his face, as though wiping away tears. God, what's wrong with me? What have I done to him?

...

It had been drizzling earlier, and it was still cloudy and cool out now as Sweden walked back to the school, thinking about what had just happened. It wasn't until he was halfway home, trudging along with his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, and running through the scene for about the seventeenth time, before he realized what must have happened. Now that he thought about it, he had been a total idiot. The sequence of events had gone something like this:

1. Finland had told him he loved him.

2. He hadn't said anything, just stared at him for a full minute or so.

3. Instead of returning Finland's words, he'd grabbed him forcibly by the shoulders and kissed him roughly.

4. When Finland pulled away, he'd shaken his head and said, "I'm sorry."

It was obvious, now. Finland, who was used to having to decipher Sweden's sparse words and understanding the meaning behind them, had misinterpreted his apology as an 'I'm sorry, but I don't feel the same way'. Sweden smacked his forehead and groaned. Finland might have overreacted a little without taking the time to find out what was really going on, it was true. But the boy had been so nervous to begin with, one could hardly blame him for freaking out. And Sweden…well, nothing he had done had been of any help.

This wasn't the first time his failure to communicate verbally had caused problems in their relationship. He could clearly remember the day he'd called Finland his girlfriend in front of all their friends; Finland still got mad about that, though it was months ago.

No, it wasn't the first time something like this had happened. But it was by far the worst.

It was getting pretty dark by the time Sweden made it back to the dorm building of their school. He walked the halls of the building, his pace growing slower with every step. He didn't really want to reach his room…the room he shared with Finland.

It had been a happy coincidence to find that he shared a room with his boyfriend this year. They'd known from the start that it might be hard at times, living together, but they had made the decision to not ask for a room change. Still, Sweden hadn't told his parents, as he thought that they might object to it. But he and Finland had never had sex or anything...at least, not yet. Finland had even told him at the beginning of the school year, blushing the whole time in the most adorable way, that he wasn't ready to take that step yet, and Sweden completely respected him for it. He never wanted to do something that made Finland uncomfortable.

Which made this really awkward.

Sweden paused outside their shared room and sighed. There was no point avoiding the inevitable. He took out his key and slowly turned it in the lock. He opened the door and, keeping his eyes downcast, entered the room.

"F'nland?" he asked, using his nation's name just to be careful. It was considered more respectful. But there was no response, and Sweden realized that the room was dark. He lifted his eyes and found himself alone in the room. Finland hadn't even been able to come back here.

Sweden crossed the room, dropping his jacket on the floor and not caring, and ended up standing halfway between the two beds for a few minutes. He considered the empty room with a heavy heart. It seemed utterly lifeless without Finland's bright smile to welcome him. He looked at the desk on Finland's side of the room and noticed a small picture of the two of them. In it, they were sitting on a park bench, gazing at each other, oblivious to the cameraman. Finland was holding a white daisy, which Sweden had picked for him earlier that day, loosely in his hand, and Sweden was actually smiling gently as he looked at his boyfriend. It had been taken by one of Finland's friends for an art project on candid photos, but when the small blonde had seen it, he'd loved it so much that he'd gotten it framed.

Sweden almost smiled at the memory, but his mind tossed up one of those unpleasant thoughts that brains always seem to be holding just beneath the surface for moments like this.

What if I can't fix it this time? What if he doesn't want to see me again after this? What if…we're done?

The realization that he might have ruined his first relationship, and with a stupid misunderstanding, finally hit home and he broke down, his hard exterior melting away as tears formed in his eyes. A choking sob escaped his lips and he covered his mouth with a trembling hand, but he was unable to stop himself now that he'd started.

Unsure of exactly why he did so, he grabbed one of the pillows off of Finland's bed before collapsing onto his own. He stared at the ceiling for a minute before taking off his glasses and turning to face the wall. He pressed the pillow against his face and inhaled deeply. It smelled like Finland, which only renewed Sweden's nearly-stopped tears. But that was okay, because crying felt…good right now. Sweden usually kept his emotions mostly to himself, and he couldn't even remember the last time he'dcried; so when he finally reached his breaking point, he liked to let everything out, to empty himself.

After a few more minutes, his tears had reduced to the occasional hiccup or sniffle. He rolled over in his bed and looked towards Finland's across the room, though it was almost completely black and impossible to see, especially without his glasses. He wished that he could have Finland at his side again, curled up in his bed with him, whispering comforting words; a not so far-fetched idea, since Finland ended up in Sweden's bed one way or another a few nights a week, anyways. It felt lonely without him.

Still hugging the pillow to his chest, a poor substitute for a living, breathing, body, he thought back to what had been, impossibly, barely an hour ago.

'Berwald, I…I love you!'

Sweden's chest ached as he thought of how Finland's face, his voice, his body, his everything, had been at that moment.

And I was too weak to say it back to him. Why couldn't I have just said that I… "I love 'im," he whispered into the dark. His eyes stayed dry for the rest of the night, but it was many hours before he fell asleep, still clutching Finland's pillow.

…

Sweden awoke the next morning feeling hollow inside. However, he'd cried his tears last night, and now he just went about his morning routine like a robot, without any feeling or interest in what he was doing. He was lost in his own thoughts, now focusing on how to fix the mess he'd gotten himself into.

Apologizing about ten million times would be first, but it didn't seem like enough, somehow. I really hurt him this time…he was expecting to hear the words said back to him, and when I just couldn't do it, he assumed the worst. Just saying sorry won't tell him that I do love him. I need to find another way to show him…

He gloomily tossed ideas around as he walked to breakfast, definitely feeling the empty space at his side that was usually filled with cheerful, talkative Finland. When he entered the cafeteria, he paused, suddenly hesitating. He didn't know where to sit. He always sat with Finland…he really didn't have that many other friends.

His gaze roamed around the large room, noticing how several people averted their eyes if they met his. It wasn't much of a secret; a lot of people at this school were afraid of him. He was a big kid with what had been described as a 'scary' face, and he wasn't very talkative. To be honest, he didn't really know most of the students that he'd been at school with for three years. Finland had been the only one he'd wanted to get to know.

Still, he kept looking for a friendly face, and his heart stopped as he noticed familiar violet eyes returning his stare. Finland was far across the room, but to Sweden, his face was as clear as though he were only a few feet away. Sweden could tell, even from this distance, that Finland had been crying. His eyes were puffy, his nose was red, and he looked tired. After a few seconds, Finland dropped his eyes, looking down at the table, and then at the boy on his right.

Now Sweden looked for the first time at who Finland was sitting with. He recognized him as one of Finland's friends: Estonia. Sweden had always thought Estonia was a nice guy, though he didn't know him that well. However, it wasn't Estonia that Sweden was concerned about; it was one of the others that came with him.

You could never find Estonia without three, very specific, others. There was Latvia, Lithuania, and, of course, their infamous leader, Russia. Russia was possibly the only kid in school who could be considered scarier than Sweden. He was always smiling, but there just something really…off about him. There were rumors that Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania only hung out with him all the time out of fear for their lives, or that they owed him something. Sweden really didn't like seeing Finland sitting at the table with the creepily grinning Russian, who seemed to be scooching closer to Finland even as he watched.

Still, there was nothing he could do just now. He sighed and continued searching the cafeteria until his eyes lit upon a few relatively friendly faces. Okay, at least they didn't shy away when he looked at them. Norway, Denmark, and Iceland. Really, Finland had been the one to introduce them all, but Sweden had grown to like Norway and Iceland as friends. He wasn't exactly the biggest fan of the Danish kid, but you'd be hard-pressed to find Norway without him nowadays, so Sweden found that he could put up with him if the occasion called for it.

He got his food and weaved his way across the room and sat down, without a word, next to Iceland, with Norway and Denmark across from him. All three of them stopped their conversation abruptly as he dropped down into the seat, which was much too low for his liking. His long legs always felt crammed under the table. He ducked his head for a moment to try and rearrange his legs comfortably, and when he looked up to start eating his food, he found all three of the boys staring at him.

"Hm?" he grunted. His way of asking what was up.

They all looked away quickly, going back to their own food. Norway and Iceland, through one of those eerie coincidences in life, were both boys with naturally inexpressive faces, so Sweden really couldn't tell what they were thinking. But Denmark was the complete opposite. He was loud, boisterous, and not afraid to tell people things they might not want to hear. And he was looking at Sweden again, like he wanted to say something.

"So…" he eventually said around a bite of waffle. He swallowed. "What's up with you and Finland?"

Sweden glanced up sharply. "Wh't do you kn'w 'bout it?" he asked, his voice edged with anger.

"Eh, not much," Denmark said carelessly with a shrug. "It's just that he showed up at our room, crying, last night, but wouldn't tell us why…so I figured it had to do with you." Sweden knew that Denmark wasn't terribly fond of him, either, but the way he'd said that last part was just too much.

"Wh't was th't?" he growled threateningly, gripping the edge of the table to prevent himself from jumping right up and punching Denmark in the face.

Denmark seemed to drop his nonchalant attitude and also allowed a little ice in his voice and eyes. "Hey, all I'm saying is that the guy slept on the floor in our room last night because of something you did. So would you mind telling us what the hell it was? Because-"

"Mathias, that's enough," Norway interrupted calmly. Sweden raised an eyebrow as Denmark, after hesitating for a few more seconds, shut his mouth and went back to picking at the remains of his breakfast. Are they on a first name basis now? Sweden wondered. Then Norway turned his blank stare on Sweden and said, "He did sleep in our room last night, and we would like our privacy back. So make up with him. Soon."

Sweden nodded sullenly and also went back to eating. I wish, but easier said than done…

He spent the rest of breakfast observing his tablemates, but not saying a word. Iceland was very quiet, as usual, so Sweden spent the majority of his time watching the other two, which turned out to be very interesting. He hadn't spent a lot of time with Norway recently, since the other had started hanging out with Denmark so much, but there was definitely something going on between the two. Denmark, though just as loud and annoying as usual, seemed to hang on to every word that Norway spoke, and seemed awfully comfortable around him. Even Norway, though constantly disagreeing with Denmark, seemed a little more relaxed and open than Sweden usually saw him. Then there was the fact that they were roommates, and that Norway had used Denmark's first name…

Are they…dating? Sweden wondered. That's what it really looked like to him, but somehow, Sweden had a hard time wrapping his mind around Norway dating anyone, let alone the outgoing Dane.

But even if they are, it's none of my business… he thought, sneaking another glance in Finland's direction. The little blonde boy was smiling at Estonia, but Sweden could tell it was forced. He thought of what Denmark had said, how he'd shown up at his and Norway's room crying last night. It made his stomach churn to know that Finland had been hurt so badly by one little miscommunication. And he was ashamed because he still didn't know how to fix it.

He looked back at Norway and Denmark without really seeing them, his mind far, far away. I need some help…or at least some advice, he thought, but I don't really have many friends to ask…He gave a small, quiet sigh in defeat. But then, as he refocused on his current setting, he looked at Norway, who was currently fending off a snickering Dane from doing whatever, and it occurred to him.

I'll talk to Norway.

OH MY GOD, I'M NOT A LIAR, I SWEAR. I said that there would be a fluffy SuFin, and there WILL be fluff, just bear with me until part 2! xD DON'T HATE ME!

Oh man, this was a tough one to write. Poor Sweden! It was so hard to make him cry like that! But he's only human (in this story) after all, it had to be done… And then I've never written Denmark or Norway before…GAH! Though I better get over it, since each of them will have their own chapters later on. ; )