So here it is, the next chapter of Ebene. Please review! To be honest, I don't like this chapter. But I'll post it anyway.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers

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Age Seven

Smudged Marker

During the day, Ludwig found himself checking his wrist multiple times, hoping somehow that the words would have appeared by the time he got his juice from the fridge. Gilbert –who was slowly starting to get very self-absorbed– wouldn't have made a promise that wouldn't come true.

He had to have words, somewhere. Scratching the flesh, he rubbed the pale skin raw, hoping somehow the words would have appeared from underneath a layer of skin. He had to have words. He wanted to be like the other kids, sharing their phrases and making guesses as to who their soulmate could be, or what they'd be like.

He wanted to play the games, he wanted to decipher what his sentence meant, what type of situation his soulmate would have said that to him in. Wandering around the house, he stumbled into Gilbert's room and fished around in the desk drawers until he stumbled upon a black marker, he uncapped it and wrote 'ebene' on his wrist where the words should have been. He had to admit, his wrist looked much better than when it was blank.

Tightening his grip, he watched as the black marker smudged on his pale wrist, staining the flesh a strange bruise-like color. It was like a cloud in a storm. The blemish he had created looked like a wrong answer that somebody tried to erase, but couldn't get the job done.

Why him? Why did he have to be the one without words? Ludwig's eyes stung as he stared at his wrist and the smudged marker ink, gripping his wrist too tightly. He had heard Gilbert talking to his mom about it before, and he knew his mom cried whenever he wore short sleeves. Or whenever he was near her.

His stomach rumbling, he scampered out of Gilbert's room and down the stairs and into the kitchen. His mother was leaning against the counter, nursing a glass of wine as she stared out the window above the kitchen sink and choked out dry sobs to herself.

"Mama?" Ludwig called, his small feet pattering over to where she stood. "Mama, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

She blinked in surprise, putting the glass down on the counter. "Ludwig..." She quickly wiped her eyes, and plastered a smile on her face. "What're you doing here?"

"I was hungry." He explained, putting a small hand on his rumbling stomach.

"I'll get you a snack." She said as she pulled a bowl down from the cabinet, placing it on the counter next to her wine glass as she thought of what snacks they currently had in the cupboard.

"But Mama, why were you crying?" He asked again, staring at his mother with his glassy blue eyes.

Instead of answering, Mrs. Beilschmidt got down on her knee so she was eye-level with her son and took his face in her hands, her eyes watering once again as she stared at him. He didn't deserve this. He was such a sweet boy, he didn't deserve to be wordless. Why had she given birth to a wordless child? Was this her fault? Was it her fault that her son was wordless, and would never find a soulmate? Was it her fault that he would never know true happiness?

What would become of this small boy standing in front of her?

"Ludwig..." She began, blinking rapidly to not let the tears fall. "I'm sorry." She told him as she pulled him into a hug, pressing his head into her shoulders. "I am so sorry. My darling special little Ludwig, I am so sorry."

She whispered her apologizes over and over, in both English and German as she hugged him tightly. Ludwig didn't entirely understand why she was crying, but he hugged his mother anyway, and suddenly he knew why she was apologizing.

Ludwig hadn't even realized that he had been crying too.

To be continued

Coming next: Age 8