Chains.
Title: Chains
Author/Artist: Still me.
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Finland, Sweden
Rating: G
Warnings: The usual WW2 aftermath related nagst.
Summary: In all relationships it's the sum of everything that beats the details.
Chains
Among many other things, Sweden tastes of coffee. Almonds is another familiar one, marsipan and peppermint and hallonbåtar, small supposedly raspberry flavoured boat-shaped candy with a soft middle.
There have been times when salty water has added its flavour. Even worse is the metallic taste he remembers a little too clearly but that, too will be accepted when you've made a solemn promise to stand your ground for his sake. What's unbearable is the taste that rises up from one's own self when despite everything one has done it's not enough, never enough, or when help is pleaded for and refused.
Or not even refused - not completely - it's the silence that greeted his messages that was the worst. He understands why it happened, oh he knows it perfectly well and cannot find any logical or moral fault, he goes on as far as to agree he did all that he could, and more. He would do anything, he thinks, if he could only convince that nagging feeling deep in his core of this. Perhaps the fact that the help he received was nowhere near what would have been needed is why he can never quite forget and let go of his resentment, even though at the time it was all that was available to him.
Just the same, with as long history as they have together they've somehow grown attached. Finland shakes the thoughts out of his head and measures the coffee. He'll be here any moment, and as Finland glances at the clock he know that such incidents are nowhere near enough to sever the tie of centuries upon centuries of living together, even if that's now in the past as well.
It adds a touch of bitterness, that is all.
Author/Artist: Still me.
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Finland, Sweden
Rating: G
Warnings: The usual WW2 aftermath related nagst.
Summary: In all relationships it's the sum of everything that beats the details.
Chains
Among many other things, Sweden tastes of coffee. Almonds is another familiar one, marsipan and peppermint and hallonbåtar, small supposedly raspberry flavoured boat-shaped candy with a soft middle.
There have been times when salty water has added its flavour. Even worse is the metallic taste he remembers a little too clearly but that, too will be accepted when you've made a solemn promise to stand your ground for his sake. What's unbearable is the taste that rises up from one's own self when despite everything one has done it's not enough, never enough, or when help is pleaded for and refused.
Or not even refused - not completely - it's the silence that greeted his messages that was the worst. He understands why it happened, oh he knows it perfectly well and cannot find any logical or moral fault, he goes on as far as to agree he did all that he could, and more. He would do anything, he thinks, if he could only convince that nagging feeling deep in his core of this. Perhaps the fact that the help he received was nowhere near what would have been needed is why he can never quite forget and let go of his resentment, even though at the time it was all that was available to him.
Just the same, with as long history as they have together they've somehow grown attached. Finland shakes the thoughts out of his head and measures the coffee. He'll be here any moment, and as Finland glances at the clock he know that such incidents are nowhere near enough to sever the tie of centuries upon centuries of living together, even if that's now in the past as well.
It adds a touch of bitterness, that is all.