It's a draft for a SuFin fic I started yesterday.
It was a very normal day for Sweden, one could say. Obviously, a day in the life of a country could never be what you'd call normal, but this particular day was calm and filled with his favourite hobbies.
So, by the end of the day, he decided he'd go to his room and lay down on his bed. After a normal, fun, but nevertheless busy, all you want is some rest.
Sweden was heading to his room in the end of the hallway when he saw the door to his flatmate Finland's room was open. Now, Sweden wasn't one to sneak into others' personal space, however, given that Finland was just walking his dog a few yards away, taking a quick sneek-peek into his companion's room wouldn't hurt, now would it?
So he simply entered it, having the care to not open the door one inch more than it already was.
The first thing he noticed, Finland has a great taste in colours.
The walls were blue. He liked blue too. This blue was a tad brighter than Finland's uniform, which gave the room a snowy, bright feeling. And it felt good. Very... peaceful and silent.
Ok, so there was a bed. No big deal. Beds are common in rooms, thought Sweden stupidly.
He didn't give much thought to the details, like the pile of books on Finland's bed-side table. Oh shit, he was paying attention to them. He needed to abstract himself from all the tiny things that could interfere with his confort.
There was just something he couldn't keep his eyes away from. It was Finland's diary. (Oh Sweden knew it, it's still a mistery.)
He sent a death glare in the direction of the little notebook with a brown cover, with scribbles all over it. It was rather cute.
Ok, so Sweden was starting to act like some sort of creeper, or what the hell? He thought he was. To make matters worse, he decided 'to hell with it, let's open this damn thing'.
And so he did.
The first entry, coincidencially or not, had been on the day they'd met. Finland's handwriting was round and big, like a schoolgirl's. Oh, there he was, thinking Finland was some kind of woman in disguise. Well, he didn't exactly think he was a woman in disguise, he just thought he wasn't the manlinest of men, and you had to agree with him on that.
Sweden flipped the pages and read through them. He'd recognised Finland wrote in the little notebook twice a week, according to the patterns. He was ready to put down the diary when he remember an entry mentioning him, from about three weeks ago. As he hadn't read it all, he decided to (he hadn't read all the entries, just spared them a quick glance to know what the subject was and then had moved on to the next entry).
"Sweden... meh. He was this very awkward guy, who'd walk around you and follow you like a sweet puppy. It was sweet, indeed! But all the death glares he sent in my direction weren't what I'd call nice...
I mean, I'm sure he can be nice.. Can't he? Oh god, he really creeps me out, that's all I'm sure of now. It's not that it isn't cool to walk around him... but he's scary, and big, and his shadow on you just makes you want to piss your pants in shame. Oh god, he does that to you too, doesn't he? It's so scary!!
It'd actually be pretty nice if he smiled once in a while, but he seems to avoid that strongly... not that I'm sure he'd have a pretty smile. Actually, I think it'd be pretty much akward and uncomfy, just like the guy himself. Oh god, why am I saying these things? He's probably none of these anyways. I don't even feel bad about him, I really don't! hey, I actually enjoy his company! But, he just doesn't seem that much into talking... and i really like talking.
I... I really do.
*smiles*"
'That was very adorable', thought Sweden, giggling lightly. He felt like such a schoolgirl, for the giggling and for sneaking into Finland's diary. Whatever. It's not like he was going to get caught anyway, was he? No, he wasn't.
"Su-san, dinner's ready!" called Finland from their shared house's kitchen.
Dear god, that stupid nickname. 'Why, Finland, why? Couldn't you have called me rubber duck instead, or given me a fancy name like Hanatamago? Your dog's name is cooler than my nickname!', thought Sweden in dismay.
Sweden quickly put the diary where he had found it, scrutinizing it attentively to see if something had been misplaced. No, everything was fine. He'd better get going.
He walked slowly in silence into the kitchen and sat down where he supposed it was his seat. Finland smiled nervously at him, muttering a very inaudible 'shit'. Sweden thought of saying something, but decided it was too awkward.
So, as everything in him, he ate his dinner in an awkward manner, chewing slowly, savouring every bit of his meal, trying to focus on something other than Finland in front of him. His eyes lay on a cut from a newspaper on the wall and, with the precious help of his spectacles and a squint of his eyes, he managed to read the tiny black letters in the paper.
So, by the end of the day, he decided he'd go to his room and lay down on his bed. After a normal, fun, but nevertheless busy, all you want is some rest.
Sweden was heading to his room in the end of the hallway when he saw the door to his flatmate Finland's room was open. Now, Sweden wasn't one to sneak into others' personal space, however, given that Finland was just walking his dog a few yards away, taking a quick sneek-peek into his companion's room wouldn't hurt, now would it?
So he simply entered it, having the care to not open the door one inch more than it already was.
The first thing he noticed, Finland has a great taste in colours.
The walls were blue. He liked blue too. This blue was a tad brighter than Finland's uniform, which gave the room a snowy, bright feeling. And it felt good. Very... peaceful and silent.
Ok, so there was a bed. No big deal. Beds are common in rooms, thought Sweden stupidly.
He didn't give much thought to the details, like the pile of books on Finland's bed-side table. Oh shit, he was paying attention to them. He needed to abstract himself from all the tiny things that could interfere with his confort.
There was just something he couldn't keep his eyes away from. It was Finland's diary. (Oh Sweden knew it, it's still a mistery.)
He sent a death glare in the direction of the little notebook with a brown cover, with scribbles all over it. It was rather cute.
Ok, so Sweden was starting to act like some sort of creeper, or what the hell? He thought he was. To make matters worse, he decided 'to hell with it, let's open this damn thing'.
And so he did.
The first entry, coincidencially or not, had been on the day they'd met. Finland's handwriting was round and big, like a schoolgirl's. Oh, there he was, thinking Finland was some kind of woman in disguise. Well, he didn't exactly think he was a woman in disguise, he just thought he wasn't the manlinest of men, and you had to agree with him on that.
Sweden flipped the pages and read through them. He'd recognised Finland wrote in the little notebook twice a week, according to the patterns. He was ready to put down the diary when he remember an entry mentioning him, from about three weeks ago. As he hadn't read it all, he decided to (he hadn't read all the entries, just spared them a quick glance to know what the subject was and then had moved on to the next entry).
"Sweden... meh. He was this very awkward guy, who'd walk around you and follow you like a sweet puppy. It was sweet, indeed! But all the death glares he sent in my direction weren't what I'd call nice...
I mean, I'm sure he can be nice.. Can't he? Oh god, he really creeps me out, that's all I'm sure of now. It's not that it isn't cool to walk around him... but he's scary, and big, and his shadow on you just makes you want to piss your pants in shame. Oh god, he does that to you too, doesn't he? It's so scary!!
It'd actually be pretty nice if he smiled once in a while, but he seems to avoid that strongly... not that I'm sure he'd have a pretty smile. Actually, I think it'd be pretty much akward and uncomfy, just like the guy himself. Oh god, why am I saying these things? He's probably none of these anyways. I don't even feel bad about him, I really don't! hey, I actually enjoy his company! But, he just doesn't seem that much into talking... and i really like talking.
I... I really do.
*smiles*"
'That was very adorable', thought Sweden, giggling lightly. He felt like such a schoolgirl, for the giggling and for sneaking into Finland's diary. Whatever. It's not like he was going to get caught anyway, was he? No, he wasn't.
"Su-san, dinner's ready!" called Finland from their shared house's kitchen.
Dear god, that stupid nickname. 'Why, Finland, why? Couldn't you have called me rubber duck instead, or given me a fancy name like Hanatamago? Your dog's name is cooler than my nickname!', thought Sweden in dismay.
Sweden quickly put the diary where he had found it, scrutinizing it attentively to see if something had been misplaced. No, everything was fine. He'd better get going.
He walked slowly in silence into the kitchen and sat down where he supposed it was his seat. Finland smiled nervously at him, muttering a very inaudible 'shit'. Sweden thought of saying something, but decided it was too awkward.
So, as everything in him, he ate his dinner in an awkward manner, chewing slowly, savouring every bit of his meal, trying to focus on something other than Finland in front of him. His eyes lay on a cut from a newspaper on the wall and, with the precious help of his spectacles and a squint of his eyes, he managed to read the tiny black letters in the paper.