oo2. Love

Love: A form of insanity that is often caused from spending too much time with someone. Can lead to reckless decisions and, in some cases, horrible depression or false happiness.

It was something Norway had tried to avoid, something he never thought would happen to someone like himself. When he had gone to Finland for advice on what was happening to him, he got a simple, dreadful answer.

"You're in love, Norway!"

He had just brushed it off as a misdiagnosis though. Finland didn't know him, he didn't know how his brain worked. Though he did know what it was like to be in love, and Norway carried all the symptoms. He knew it himself too. His pulse raced from the simplest touch, hearing that voice sent shivers through his body. All of these years he thought he was happy, but now his heart ached with every passing day.

"Norge! Noooorge!" He curled himself into a ball under the covers of his bed, yelling back at the voice by the door.

"Go away, I don't wanna deal with you right now, Danmark." It was hard to keep his voice from wavering. Tears were threatening to pour out of his tightly shut eyes; he could already feel water pooling in the corners. Why was he crying? The last time he cried was...he couldn't even remember. It must've been before his viking days. Norway reached over, grabbing the stuffed pink rabbit he'd had for centuries and hugged it close to his chest, not being able to hold back the tears anymore.

"Norway, I'm coming in!" His eyes widened. No, he couldn't be coming in...he couldn't see him like this. He couldn't let anyone see him like this.

"No!" Throwing the covers off and clutching Mr. Bunny with the other, he raced out of his bed and flung himself at the door to keep it shut. "Please," his voice shook as he choked out words between his tears. "Don't come in." He wouldn't be able to live with himself if Denmark saw him like this, dressed in only his just-long-enough sailor-like shirt and boxer-shorts, clutching a pink rabbit to his chest and crying like a baby. Norway's body slid down till he was in a sitting position at the bottom of the door. He knew that the boisterous nation would just point and laugh, and the thought of that made his choked out sobs even louder.

"...Norway? Are you...crying?" He hugged his knees and Mr. Bunny even closer to his chest.

"So what if I am. It's not like you'd care." The door was slowly pushed open and Denmark stepped inside, kneeling next to Norway and wrapping his arms around his frail, shaking body.

"Of course I care if the person I love is upset," Denmark said, kissing his soft blond locks of hair. Slowly he looked up at the taller nation, tears still streaming down his face as he asked the question that had been nagging at him for the past week.

"Do you really mean that...?" He swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from bursting into sobs. "When you tell me you love me, do you ever really mean it?" The taller nation just smiled softly, pressing his lips to the other's forehead.

"Of course I mean it, Norge. I've always meant it. I've loved you since the first day I met you," he said, pulling back to wipe away Norway's tears. "And I love you now, and you can bet that when we're old and wrinkly, I'll still love you." Before Denmark could even ask how the other felt in return, Norway closed the gap between them, pressing their lips together in one swift movement. The words that came from his mouth next in a barely audible mumble, Denmark didn't ever expect to hear, and Norway never expected to say them.

"I love you too, idiot..."