Even now he could remember the pain of it all. The beating, the whips, the sting of dirt and tree bark being rubbed into fresh wounds, the burn of things being forced into him, it was all coming back to him. And, more than all of that, he remembered the words.
"I won't let you think about anyone else."
His pulse quickened.
"Don't even think about going back to him. He wouldn't take something like you back."
He looked away from the mirror and attempted to pull his shirt back up.
"You're such a bad boy, Finland. Why should I give you nice things when you can't take care of them?"
But the shirt caught on his elbow, and he couldn't quite pull it all the way up. He tugged harder.
"Stop? You want me to stop? No, I won't stop, not until you learn your lesson."
He was panicking. His breath came quicker, but he still felt like he needed more. His chest was going to explode.
"This is for your own good."
He squeezed his eyes shut to keep out the noise.
"You could die here, and nobody would care. Nobody cares. You're nothing now."
He feels his hands on his ears.
"Stop calling out for him! He's not coming for you! He never will!"
Stop it!
"You belong to me now. That is all you'll ever be: mine."
"STOP IT!"
Suddenly it all went away. He carefully opened his eyes and pulled his hands away from his ears. A pitcher of water had been knocked off the table, and somehow he had ended up on his knees. His shirt was still partially off, too. For a moment he panicked, and he looked around quickly. But then he realized that the one he was searching for wasn't coming. That's right, he wasn't coming. He'd never come to him again.
But when someone did come to the door and try to open it, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
"S'alright?"
It was Sweden. It was alright, it was just Sweden. "I'm alright," Finland called out in a shaky voice, "I'm fine."
"want me t' come in?"
First he shook his head, but then he realized that Sweden couldn't see him do that, so he spoke up. "No, I'm fine."
"...'kay." And with that, Finland could hear Sweden's footsteps walking away. He was alone again. And as much as he wanted to call Sweden back, he knew that he would just push him away again. If Sweden knew about everything that happened, he wouldn't take him back. He would be disgusted.
So tired. Finland didn't even bother moving over to the bed. He just curled up there on the floor, in the puddle of water and broken glass, and slept.
This is the anon who promised the juicy review. I don't if I can't do it though. I don't even know if I will be able to write a coherent review now, my emotions are so jumbled. Anon!writer that was so beautiful and so so sad. It makes total sense though. After All Sweden and Finland are no longer together, and they will never ever be ;_; It's so touching the way you described Finland being happy about his independence while at the same time one could sense a deep unexplained sadness in him. Very angsty, very well done. Now I'm tempted to go and request more Russia/Finland fics.
Oh wow, amazing job anon. So well written, and perfect characterization. This is one of my favourite pairs that might be a problem and you've done it so perfectly. (As horrible as that may sound).
"I won't let you think about anyone else."
His pulse quickened.
"Don't even think about going back to him. He wouldn't take something like you back."
He looked away from the mirror and attempted to pull his shirt back up.
"You're such a bad boy, Finland. Why should I give you nice things when you can't take care of them?"
But the shirt caught on his elbow, and he couldn't quite pull it all the way up. He tugged harder.
"Stop? You want me to stop? No, I won't stop, not until you learn your lesson."
He was panicking. His breath came quicker, but he still felt like he needed more. His chest was going to explode.
"This is for your own good."
He squeezed his eyes shut to keep out the noise.
"You could die here, and nobody would care. Nobody cares. You're nothing now."
He feels his hands on his ears.
"Stop calling out for him! He's not coming for you! He never will!"
Stop it!
"You belong to me now. That is all you'll ever be: mine."
"STOP IT!"
Suddenly it all went away. He carefully opened his eyes and pulled his hands away from his ears. A pitcher of water had been knocked off the table, and somehow he had ended up on his knees. His shirt was still partially off, too. For a moment he panicked, and he looked around quickly. But then he realized that the one he was searching for wasn't coming. That's right, he wasn't coming. He'd never come to him again.
But when someone did come to the door and try to open it, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
"S'alright?"
It was Sweden. It was alright, it was just Sweden. "I'm alright," Finland called out in a shaky voice, "I'm fine."
"want me t' come in?"
First he shook his head, but then he realized that Sweden couldn't see him do that, so he spoke up. "No, I'm fine."
"...'kay." And with that, Finland could hear Sweden's footsteps walking away. He was alone again. And as much as he wanted to call Sweden back, he knew that he would just push him away again. If Sweden knew about everything that happened, he wouldn't take him back. He would be disgusted.
So tired. Finland didn't even bother moving over to the bed. He just curled up there on the floor, in the puddle of water and broken glass, and slept.
Reply
Now I'm tempted to go and request more Russia/Finland fics.
Reply
Well...that made me very sad. It painted a wonderful, yet morbid, image.
Good job, I loved every second of it.
Reply
You did such a beautiful job! Thank you again. :D
Reply
So well written! <3
Reply
Wonderfully written. Thank you for filling this, anon~♥
Reply
Well done.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment