Much Ado About Clogs Part 3
Not only that, but I also realized, once again, that in every photo shoot Berwald had, he was wearing those clogs. I didn’t understand why it would be so repetitive and I wanted to figure out why those overly priced clogs were causing such stress in my life. Instead of saying something to Berwald right away about how he seemed to be slowly changing into a different person, I thought I would observe a little more. One day of being uninvited wasn’t enough to cause a scandal, but it was enough to catch my attention.
I was uninvited to his photo shoots more frequently. I also noticed how his attitude had been changing. When he would come home I would call out a simple, “How did it go?” In the beginning his response would be a quiet nod or a muttered, “Fine.” I could always trace the smallest amount of thrill in his tone. But later, I would call out my usual greeting to him and his response was the same word as before; “Fine,” he would muster, but now rather than excitement, I felt annoyance in his voice. Once when he was away at yet another shoot, I told Denmark, just to see if anyone else had noticed Sweden’s change. When I brought this up, Matthias’ expression fell as if he was looking at a ghost.
“Sweden… is acting… different?” He seemed unable to hear the sentence correctly, as if those words were not supposed to be put together in one sentence… in that order.
“Yes,” I answered back with a sigh. Of course, I thought, how would anyone notice? I’m the only one that really knows Berwald’s true personality hidden under that stern face, and I’m certainly the only one that knows what he wasn’t and what he needs, so how else would anyone notice a change in Berwald’s personality? I finally decided that maybe I should talk to him. Maybe it wasn’t even something I had done, maybe his new job was making him stressed and he just needed to talk about it. So I decided I would talk with him.
When he walked through the door the next day, I came up to him and gave him a light hug. I felt his body stiffen a bit at the touch, but he wrapped one arm around my shoulders robotically. When our awkward hug was finished, I stepped back a bit and gave him a light smile. I didn’t really expect one back, well… maybe a little… just a small one, but instead I got a blank, slightly angered expression and eyes filled with annoyance from the taller man. To keep myself from running away out of sheer terror, I began to talk.
“So, how did it go?” I began with a soft smile.
“Fine,” he replied with that same annoyance in his tone. I frowned slightly, but quickly replaced it with a smile again.
“Have you been having any troubles at work?” I asked him.
He paused for a moment before replying with a short, “no.”
“Well… have you been having fun…?”
“Mhm.”
“…That’s good. No one has been giving you any problems? Everyone’s been nice?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come back with you, you know just to keep you company?”
“Yeah.”
Before I could say anything else, he walked away. So if it wasn’t a work problem, maybe it was me.
The next day, I thought I would go over to his work, just to check up on him and pay him a surprise visit. When I walked in, I saw someone sitting behind the counter. I recognized him from before; the muscular man with his hair slicked back. I slowly walked up to him. He looked up from whatever he was doing when I approached the desk.
“Hi,” I began, “Uhm… I was wondering if maybe I could… well… you see-“
Just then I was cut off as two very noisy people walked in; two men, both wearing nice suits. One man was tall and wore glasses while the other was smaller and thinner and had the largest eyebrows I had ever seen. Once I pulled my eyes away from the large caterpillars one the man’s face, I focused on why they were causing such a ruckus. The sight was quite odd because the smaller man was practically dragging the taller man up to the counter.
“You know I hate doing this,” the taller man cried.
“You’ll be fine! You look very nice, and it won’t even take that long!” the shorter man argued, “I just want to get some nice pictures.”
“But why can’t we just take them in our normal clothes?! I hate dressing up and taking these stupid fake pictures…!”
The man behind the counter glared up at them as they came up behind me. I moved out of the way; their problem seemed much more urgent than mine.
“Hi, we’re here for the appointment we made…” the shorter man with huge eyebrows said. The receptionist nodded.
“Just go through those doors. Your room is number twelve.”
“Thanks.” The taller man continued to groan and whine as he was dragged away. Before they disappeared through the doors I heard the shorter man say softly, “I promise I’ll make it up to you when we get home if you just get through this…”
I pretended not to hear and turned back towards the muscle man. He had a slight blush on his face, probably from the man’s remark, but I ignored it and restarted with my question.
“Is it alright if I go see Berwald…? Berwald Oxenstierna? I’m uh… I’m his… ahem… I’m his wife…”
The man looked a slightly baffled but nodded and gave me similar direction as the couple before me.
“Go through the doors and look for room nine.”
“Thank you,” I said before departing.
When I reached room nine, I saw the door was closed so I reached up to knock. Before my hand reached the wood, someone grabbed my wrist. I turned to see Gilbert smiling with his usual smug grin, his red eyes gleaming down at me.
“You’re not thinking of interrupting my photo shoot, are you?” He asked me with his thick accent.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Beillschmidt,” I replied respectfully so maybe he wouldn’t be so harsh on me, “I just wanted to visit Berwald… I… I’m his wife.” Man, I hated saying that.
“Oh well, pardon me, Mrs. Oxenstierna,” he said with a smirk. He gave a dramatic bow towards me as if I were royalty and slowly opened the door for me. To avoid being rude, although e didn’t seem to mind his own rudeness, I said thank you and entered the room. I heard the door glide shut behind me and I immediately wished I was somewhere else. Berwald turned towards me looking much more annoyed than he did after work. The cameraman was someone new this time. He was tall and blonde and dressed rather fashionably. His hair was long and wavy and his eyes had a strange twinkle in them, an emotion I had never witnessed before, but I would probably describe it as… overpowering love? He studied me for a moment and a small smile spread across his lips.
“Ah… who is this?” he asked. His voice flowed like sweet honey and his actions were so graceful, although all he had done was gestured toward me with his hand. I said nothing, a little caught off by his thick accent and fluid movement, mesmerized by the beauty of them together. While I was still in slight shock, Berwald answered for me.
“A friend, “he said before ignoring me again and getting back to his work.
I was uninvited to his photo shoots more frequently. I also noticed how his attitude had been changing. When he would come home I would call out a simple, “How did it go?” In the beginning his response would be a quiet nod or a muttered, “Fine.” I could always trace the smallest amount of thrill in his tone. But later, I would call out my usual greeting to him and his response was the same word as before; “Fine,” he would muster, but now rather than excitement, I felt annoyance in his voice. Once when he was away at yet another shoot, I told Denmark, just to see if anyone else had noticed Sweden’s change. When I brought this up, Matthias’ expression fell as if he was looking at a ghost.
“Sweden… is acting… different?” He seemed unable to hear the sentence correctly, as if those words were not supposed to be put together in one sentence… in that order.
“Yes,” I answered back with a sigh. Of course, I thought, how would anyone notice? I’m the only one that really knows Berwald’s true personality hidden under that stern face, and I’m certainly the only one that knows what he wasn’t and what he needs, so how else would anyone notice a change in Berwald’s personality? I finally decided that maybe I should talk to him. Maybe it wasn’t even something I had done, maybe his new job was making him stressed and he just needed to talk about it. So I decided I would talk with him.
When he walked through the door the next day, I came up to him and gave him a light hug. I felt his body stiffen a bit at the touch, but he wrapped one arm around my shoulders robotically. When our awkward hug was finished, I stepped back a bit and gave him a light smile. I didn’t really expect one back, well… maybe a little… just a small one, but instead I got a blank, slightly angered expression and eyes filled with annoyance from the taller man. To keep myself from running away out of sheer terror, I began to talk.
“So, how did it go?” I began with a soft smile.
“Fine,” he replied with that same annoyance in his tone. I frowned slightly, but quickly replaced it with a smile again.
“Have you been having any troubles at work?” I asked him.
He paused for a moment before replying with a short, “no.”
“Well… have you been having fun…?”
“Mhm.”
“…That’s good. No one has been giving you any problems? Everyone’s been nice?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come back with you, you know just to keep you company?”
“Yeah.”
Before I could say anything else, he walked away. So if it wasn’t a work problem, maybe it was me.
The next day, I thought I would go over to his work, just to check up on him and pay him a surprise visit. When I walked in, I saw someone sitting behind the counter. I recognized him from before; the muscular man with his hair slicked back. I slowly walked up to him. He looked up from whatever he was doing when I approached the desk.
“Hi,” I began, “Uhm… I was wondering if maybe I could… well… you see-“
Just then I was cut off as two very noisy people walked in; two men, both wearing nice suits. One man was tall and wore glasses while the other was smaller and thinner and had the largest eyebrows I had ever seen. Once I pulled my eyes away from the large caterpillars one the man’s face, I focused on why they were causing such a ruckus. The sight was quite odd because the smaller man was practically dragging the taller man up to the counter.
“You know I hate doing this,” the taller man cried.
“You’ll be fine! You look very nice, and it won’t even take that long!” the shorter man argued, “I just want to get some nice pictures.”
“But why can’t we just take them in our normal clothes?! I hate dressing up and taking these stupid fake pictures…!”
The man behind the counter glared up at them as they came up behind me. I moved out of the way; their problem seemed much more urgent than mine.
“Hi, we’re here for the appointment we made…” the shorter man with huge eyebrows said. The receptionist nodded.
“Just go through those doors. Your room is number twelve.”
“Thanks.” The taller man continued to groan and whine as he was dragged away. Before they disappeared through the doors I heard the shorter man say softly, “I promise I’ll make it up to you when we get home if you just get through this…”
I pretended not to hear and turned back towards the muscle man. He had a slight blush on his face, probably from the man’s remark, but I ignored it and restarted with my question.
“Is it alright if I go see Berwald…? Berwald Oxenstierna? I’m uh… I’m his… ahem… I’m his wife…”
The man looked a slightly baffled but nodded and gave me similar direction as the couple before me.
“Go through the doors and look for room nine.”
“Thank you,” I said before departing.
When I reached room nine, I saw the door was closed so I reached up to knock. Before my hand reached the wood, someone grabbed my wrist. I turned to see Gilbert smiling with his usual smug grin, his red eyes gleaming down at me.
“You’re not thinking of interrupting my photo shoot, are you?” He asked me with his thick accent.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Beillschmidt,” I replied respectfully so maybe he wouldn’t be so harsh on me, “I just wanted to visit Berwald… I… I’m his wife.” Man, I hated saying that.
“Oh well, pardon me, Mrs. Oxenstierna,” he said with a smirk. He gave a dramatic bow towards me as if I were royalty and slowly opened the door for me. To avoid being rude, although e didn’t seem to mind his own rudeness, I said thank you and entered the room. I heard the door glide shut behind me and I immediately wished I was somewhere else. Berwald turned towards me looking much more annoyed than he did after work. The cameraman was someone new this time. He was tall and blonde and dressed rather fashionably. His hair was long and wavy and his eyes had a strange twinkle in them, an emotion I had never witnessed before, but I would probably describe it as… overpowering love? He studied me for a moment and a small smile spread across his lips.
“Ah… who is this?” he asked. His voice flowed like sweet honey and his actions were so graceful, although all he had done was gestured toward me with his hand. I said nothing, a little caught off by his thick accent and fluid movement, mesmerized by the beauty of them together. While I was still in slight shock, Berwald answered for me.
“A friend, “he said before ignoring me again and getting back to his work.