Uh, I don't have a lot to say. Hope you enjoy part two!

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

Chapter 7: Miscommunications Part 2 (Sweden)

The same day he'd nearly gotten into a fight with Denmark over breakfast, Sweden caught up with Norway after school let out. "N'rway," he said, jogging to catch up with the much smaller boy. Thankfully, Denmark was nowhere to be seen. Norway slowed a bit, and Sweden fell into step beside him.

"What?" Norway asked him in his monotone voice.

"C'n we…talk?" Sweden asked, somewhat awkwardly. He hadn't really made much of a plan beyond getting Norway's attention.

"I guess. Right now?" Sweden nodded in response. "Okay. My room will be empty."

Sweden followed Norway down the hall of the dorm building. He could hear the happy chatter of the other boys as they went to their dorms or the common room to hang out or do homework. Sweden could imagine Finland walking along with Estonia, or Iceland maybe, putting on a smile for his friends while inside he was hurting just as badly as Sweden himself was. At least Sweden didn't feel any pressure to wear a false smile, and he didn't have to talk to anyone if he didn't want to. There were some advantages to being known as an outcast.

Then again, he'd been stewing in his own doubts and worries all day without anyone to tell them about.

Norway let them into the room and excused himself, dropping his schoolbag in a chair before walking into the bathroom. Sweden took the chance to look around the room, finding it somewhat amusing to compare what were quite clearly the sides belonging to Norway and Denmark.

Norway's bed was perfectly made, his desktop was clear of unnecessary things, and the couple pairs of shoes he had were lined up in a perfectly straight row beside the bed. The only personal item, the only thing that told Sweden a teenage boy actually lived there, was a book on the nightstand that was slightly askew, a corner of it hanging over the edge of the table. Sweden crossed the room and picked it up, but it was written in Norwegian. Though Swedish and Norwegian are actually very similar languages, the title was a word unfamiliar to Sweden, and he didn't try to puzzle it out.

Putting the book back down, he took a glance over at the other side of the room. Here, the bed was unmade, clothes (dirty or clean, Sweden wasn't sure) covered the floor space, and papers and other random objects littered the desk. Quite a few schoolbooks, some of which Sweden was sure Denmark would have needed over the course of an entire day, lay around in various strange places. A couple were tangled in the blankets on the bed, one was on the nightstand being used as a coaster, and Sweden saw one propping up what looked like a picture of Denmark with his family.

How did he ever get into this school… he wondered at the apparent lack of enthusiasm towards academics. He turned as he heard the door to the bathroom opening behind him, and Norway walked out, his face still as blank as always, but he'd taken his blazer off and his body language was slightly more relaxed.

"What do you want?" Norway asked, getting right to the point. He sank into the desk chair and gestured toward the one on Denmark's side of the room. Sweden looked at it, but decided he'd rather not take a chance that the suspect jeans were clean. Instead he sat on Norway's pristine bed, ignoring the slight crinkling of the other's brow as he did so.

Now that he was here, Sweden felt nervous. How should he approach the subject? He cleared his throat, but instead of answering Norway's question, he asked one himself. "H'w close are you an' D'nmark?" He wanted to know because if Norway really did have a boyfriend, maybe he'd be better able to understand Sweden's situation.

Sweden was amazed at Norway's reaction to his simple question. His cheeks tinged with red and his eyes grew bright, as though he were angry. For Norway, it was an impressive display of emotion. "If that's what you want to talk about, then you can get out," he said with a voice like steel.

Sweden didn't understand. Had he said something wrong again? "No," he said quickly, trying to bounce back as best he could. "I…I need h'lp. With T'no."

Norway relaxed slightly at that. His eyes lost that gleam, at least. "Oh. Yes, you do. What happened?"

In as few words as possible, Sweden explained what had happened the day before. Norway shook his head in exasperation when Sweden described how he simply couldn't say the words, 'I love you', but other than that, he listened quietly and sat still the whole time. His impossible-to-read face made it difficult for Sweden to know what he thought of the whole ordeal, so when he was finished retelling it, he just had to wait patiently for a response.

Eventually, Norway stirred from where he'd been sitting, thinking, and he looked at Sweden. "I think you can still fix it, though…I don't really know what you should do."

Sweden was dismayed. He'd been hoping for a little more advice or help than that! "Ya don't?" he asked.

Norway shrugged. "No. Why should I?"

"You an' D'nmark fight all the t'me…" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He bit his lip and hoped that, somehow, Norway hadn't noticed.

He'd noticed. His reaction wasn't quite the same as last time, though his nostrils flared a little as he spoke. "What does that have to do with anything? Mathias-" Norway stopped himself and started his sentence over. "Denmark and I may fight, but we're not going out like you and Finland are. It's completely different." He crossed his arms and though his faced stayed blank, Sweden could sense that he was a little flustered.

He decided to let it go, since it seemed to be a touchy subject, though he was still highly suspicious. "So wh't should I do?"

"I told you, I don't know." Norway looked down at the floor for a minute, and Sweden followed his gaze, unwilling to break the silence now. Eventually Norway sighed. "I have homework to do."

"Oh. 'Kay." Sweden stood and Norway walked him to the door. Just as he stepped into the hallway, he heard Norway's voice very quietly behind him.

"I'm sorry that I can't be more help. I know it's not easy. Good luck."

Surprised at the almost gentleness that Norway had spoken with, Sweden turned to say something else to him, but found the door had already been shut behind him.

He looked at the closed door thoughtfully for a minute before shrugging and turning. He considered going to the common room to do his own homework, but thought there was a good chance Finland would be there, rather than risking their dorm. And while Sweden knew that he had to talk to Finland eventually to sort this whole mess out, he really wanted to have some sort of a plan before he sought him out. Otherwise, knowing him, he'd probably make things worse.

So instead of taking a right, he took a left, walking deeper into the dorm building. His room wasn't very far from Norway's, just down the hall a piece. As he approached his destination, he noticed an unfamiliar figure leaning against the wall near what appeared to be his door. It wasn't Finland, he knew that…

"Fr'nce?" he asked as he stopped in front of the boy. France smiled up at him and nodded.

Sweden had maybe spoken three words to France in as many years. They'd had a couple classes together before, but Sweden couldn't even remember which ones, now. They'd definitely never spoken outside of the classroom. So he had no idea why France would be waiting for him outside his room, and Sweden looked at him, asking the question with his eyes.

"Ah, you are wondering why I am here." France flicked his head to one side slightly, swinging some of his long hair out of his face. It seemed like a habit, like France didn't even miss a beat to do it, Sweden observed.

He nodded, though France's statement had hardly sounded like a question. France smiled broader and continued. "I heard that you had a little…lover's quarrel with poor Finland."

Sweden wanted to groan aloud. Did everyone know about it? "And?" he asked.

France took a step closer to Sweden and said in a slightly lowered, husky voice, "I just thought that I'd offer you my services in your time of need, of course."

Something about this whole situation made Sweden extremely uncomfortable. France's reputation preceded him. Sweden had heard that he was always with different partners, boy or girl, and that he never cared to form any type of long-term relationship. He wasn't even all that close with his own friends. He was overbearing and addressed everyone as 'dear' or 'darling' or something similar, but he was really just distancing himself from everybody. It made him extremely difficult to get close to. Not that Sweden himself had ever tried, and he certainly wasn't about to start now; especially not the way France seemed to be suggesting.

"I don't need wh'tever yer off'ring…" he mumbled, blushing slightly. France laughed at his discomfort.

"Oh, nothing like that! I wouldn't dream of it! No, no, I meant my help. I want to help you make up with Finland."

Sweden was relieved to hear that. But he was also slightly suspicious. "…Why?"

France winked at him. "Don't worry about it. I have my reasons."

That didn't make Sweden feel any better. He stared directly at France, using that 'scary' face of his, until the smaller boy began shifting uncomfortably. "All right, I'll tell you!" He sighed and Sweden finally felt like he was talking to the real France. He sounded a little less flamboyantly cheerful and a touch more serious. "I've been eyeing that Estonian kid, but when I went over to talk to him today, I found Finland hanging around him. Estonia is so concerned with his little friend that he completely blew me off." France huffed as though he couldn't believe it, blowing a few strands of hair off his forehead. Then he smiled again. "So I just thought it was in everybody's best interests if you and Finland were on good terms again."

Sweden nodded slowly, thinking. He really did need all the help he could get. And though France wasn't known for keeping relationships, somehow he was always seducing people. So just because he wasn't interested in a steady relationship wasn't proof that he didn't know about them. And Finland was out there somewhere, right now, believing that Sweden didn't love him.

Finland was too important for him to lose over something so stupid. He was willing to take a risk.

"C'mon," he said at last, unlocking the door and leading the way. France followed, with a slight giggle that made Sweden a little nervous about what he'd just agreed to.

…

Sweden was tense. After his talk with France yesterday, everything had seemed like it was falling into place, but now he wasn't so sure.

It was before classes started for the day, and Sweden was waiting alone in an autumn garden.

In the middle of the school building was a large, open rectangle that's primary function was to house a sustainable garden. Students, faculty, and members of the local community tended to this garden all year (besides winter, of course). In the summer, it was full of vegetables and flowers and was actually quite beautiful. But right now, Sweden just felt distinctly out of place among the fading tomato plants.

This was all France's idea. Sweden had explained that they hadn't exactly had a fight, but rather, a misunderstanding. What he really needed was to talk to Finland alone and just tell him the words he needed to hear, but that he still hadn't known the right way to confess his feelings. France had suggested somewhere with a little of what he called 'atmosphere' and declared that the only romantic thing about their school was their garden. Sweden supposed that might be true in the spring and summer, but in September the only things that were blooming were a few large sunflowers and some flowering weeds.

He started pacing now in his nervousness. Finland hadn't returned to their room again last night, so this was the first time he was going talk to him since 'the incident', as he was now calling it in his head. Sweden was clutching a bouquet of flowers in his hand and muttering under his breath, going over everything he and France had discussed the day before. It still didn't stop his stomach from tying itself in knots.

From behind him, he heard the door opening and he turned. His heart began pounding at the sound of Finland's voice.

"France, I don't understand…"

"Just trust me, my dear. Go on!"

"But-"

Finland entered the courtyard abruptly; as though he was shoved from behind. At first, he didn't notice Sweden. He turned to look back at the doorway he'd just been pushed through, probably wondering why he'd been forced into the school garden so early in the morning. He tried the door handle, but it looked like it was being held closed from inside the building. With a little sigh at his fruitless efforts to escape, he looked around the garden for the first time. When his gaze met Sweden's, his eyes widened and he froze.

"Su-san! I-I mean, Sweden! I really w-wasn't expecting…um…" As he stammered to say something, his hand groped for the handle behind him again. He tried it, but found he was still unable to open it, and Sweden heard him make a small noise of desperation. His face was red, and his hand, which still rested on the door handle, was trembling. He sniffed, and Sweden wondered if he was about to cry.

Sweden took a step closer, trying to let his concern show on his face. "T'no…"

"No, it's okay! You don't have to…to come over here!" Finland was hiding his face now, but Sweden could tell that he was close to tears.

He stopped a few feet short of Finland and just watched him. When Finland got emotional, sometimes he babbled. Sweden was waiting to see if anything more was forthcoming. He was rewarded after a minute of silence.

Finland choked out a watery laugh. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this. I didn't…I really didn't want you to. I understand that…you just don't feel the same way I do, and…I'll be fine." Finland bit his lip, and Sweden could only watch as a teardrop ran down his cheek.

He and France had planned out the whole encounter. It was going to be part actual romance, part horrible, but adorable, cheesiness. Sweden was going to get down on one knee, offer Finland the flowers, apologize and tell him how much he loved him, and even beg forgiveness, if he needed to. According to France, it was supposed to be just awkward and sweet enough to work. It would make Finland smile at the very least, to see Sweden looking so ridiculous just for him. That was the plan. That's what was supposed to happen. But neither of them had accounted for this; for Finland to start crying right at the start.

France was the self-proclaimed expert on love, but maybe he'd been wrong about what was needed here. Maybe Sweden just needed to finally be clear about his feelings. In any case, he knew that he couldn't just stand there and wait anymore. He had to do something to ease Finland's obvious pain.

"I love you," he said slowly, clearly.

Finland froze, then turned slowly to face Sweden. "What?" he whispered, as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Mingled into the disbelief and hurt, though, was a glimmer of hope. Still, he cleared his throat and started to say, "Sweden, I don't underst-"

"I l've you," Sweden said again, cutting him off, marveling at the words, and before he knew it, he was running.

Sweden crossed the distance between them in a second, dropping the flowers to the ground and enfolding Finland in his arms in a single movement. Finland, as though by instinct, gripped Sweden in return, though the expression on his tearstained face made it clear he was still confused. Sweden gently wiped away a tear and tried to explain, to tell him how he felt. "I l've ya, T'no. I do. I'm so s'rry I couldn't say it th' oth'r day…I love you, so much. More'n anyth'ng."

As he spoke, Finland's face transformed from its baffled state, gleaming with relief and comprehension by the end. Sweden was so glad that his boyfriend could understand him like no one else could, sometimes even better than he understood himself. He kissed Finland softly on the forehead. "I'm s'rry."

"Oh, Su-san…" Finland whispered, then pressed his face against Sweden's chest. At first he forced out a harsh laugh, but it quickly dissolved into sobs again. Sweden raised a hand to slowly stroke his hair, trying to offer comfort to the boy he'd inadvertently hurt so badly, to the one he now hoped to soothe and ease the pain away from.

"Shh…" he murmured, feeling an enormous weight being lifted from his chest. He had Finland back in his arms. Everything was okay. Somehow, somehow, he'd made this happen.

"I missed you so much!" Finland gasped. He buried his face even deeper against Sweden, actually forcing the larger boy to take a step back from the force of it. Sweden smiled slightly and held Finland even tighter. After a minute, Finland seemed to regain control of himself. He leaned back a little and seemed to notice the flowers on the ground for the first time. "What…what were those for?" he asked, laughing a little, despite the fact that his voice still sounded thick with the tears he'd shed.

Sweden blushed as he looked at them. He'd totally abandoned the original idea they'd had. "They w're for you…but…"

Finland looked delighted. "Really! Aw, that's so sweet." He disentangled himself from Sweden and picked them up, straightening a couple flowers that had fallen out of place when they'd hit the ground. He put them to his nose and inhaled, smiling softly as he did so.

He looks like a mess… Sweden thought affectionately as he watched Finland. His face was red from crying and blushing and whatever else, his hair was disheveled, his uniform was wrinkled, and now he was smiling so gently like that, on top of it all.

Sweden walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around Finland again, resting his chin on his lover's head. He drank in Finland's presence, letting it wash over him and calm him, wishing they could stay like this forever.

"Berwald," Finland said a moment later. "I don't know what happened the other day, and I don't care anymore. I'm just…really happy right now. I never wanted to…to believe that you didn't..." he couldn't finish the sentence, but Sweden understood.

He hummed in agreement. "B't I am s'rry," he added softly.

Finland turned around in his arms so that they were facing each other. "Me too." Then he smiled shyly up at Sweden, just like he always did before they kissed. He stood up on his toes and Sweden leaned down slightly, and their lips met gently, almost hesitantly at first, as though testing each other. Both parties were apparently satisfied with what they found, but just as Sweden went to deepen the kiss, the bell rang for first period.

Finland pulled back, looking surprised. Sweden felt the same way on the inside. He'd completely forgotten that such a thing as classes could exist. They seemed entirely insignificant right now, but he knew they really couldn't afford to be late.

"C'mon," he said, taking Finland by the hand. Finland smiled warmly as they pushed open the door, which was no longer being blocked from the inside.

It hadn't gone exactly as planned, but as Finland gave his hand a squeeze, Sweden thought that he just might have to thank France one of these days.

Poor France. I get the feeling it's not going to work out with Estonia… Oh! But the courtyard has made its first appearance! This garden is based on a real-life sustainable garden that I volunteer at, located in my own high school. Pay attention! This courtyard will actually be very important in upcoming chapters. It's a popular location for romantic encounters, it seems. xD

By the way, Denmark's side of the room…based on my own bedroom, of course. xD (And the clothes are clean, no worries, haha)