The tall German man, who seemed to tower over you, and make you small, simply stared down at you. You knew he had a hard time talking to females; you'd known since sixth grade. But you'd never had much trouble speaking to him. He seemed to have trouble trying to figure out what to say.
When he finally spoke, respectfully looked at him, although you didn't want to. "Why did you get so upset?" he asked, although his voice had a slight edge to it. "I'm not upset..." you tried your hardest to lie, but that was not very possible at this point. You felt somewhat broken inside; like the last blow to your heart broke you as if you were glass.
The German slammed a hand against the wall. "Don't lie!" he ordered, his soldier-like attitude returning. You flinched, and shielded yourself, thinking he was going to hit you.
"I will not tolerate lies. I need you to tell me what the hell made you so upset. now."
See, Germany didn't understand you well. You were good friends, no doubt...but Germany never fully understood your emotions or reactions. You were a mysterious person; you rarely spoke of your emotions. It's almost like the subject of your emotions and thoughts were something that was never to be discussed. They never were discussed out loud.
They were voiceless beauties, pieces of a bigger masterpiece that still had yet to unfold itself, falling upon the ears of the dead, whom could never tell the story themselves.
You looked away. "I have no idea what you're talking about," you tried to lie to get out of it. "Don't try that, (Name). There's no denying what just happened. Are you going to tell me willingly, or do I have to force it out of you?"
You were scared of the thought. You found the tone of his voice almost mocking; something so ignorant, almost like he was meeting you again, like he was trying to interrogate you about some sort of murder, like he didn't know who you were anymore.
But yet, something underlying that tone of voice endeared you to him; something that began to bind you to him from the slight sense of coercion and dynamic in his voice, a mere puzzle piece of his entire being.
"Well?" Germany growled. You began to inch away from him in fear, as, there was a frightening expression on his face. His eyes went sort of dark, and his mouth was fixed into a deep frown. He looked as if he wanted to kill a bitch at that very moment.
He noticed you trying to escape, and grabbed you, pinning you to place. You yelped as his large hands, hands which seemed to touch the very flames of hell that were so feared to the core by more people than could be counted, clamped around your wrists, and kept you in one place.
You were trapped.
"L-Ludwig, please, let me go-!"
"Silence!" the scary look was back.
You stayed silent. "(Name), I need you to tell me. You hardly talk in the first place. We're in our freshman year, and I've known you since sixth grade, yet I still don't know much about you," His grip on you seemed to tighten, "It's time to let it go, (Name). Let go of your insecurities- do whatever you need! Just tell me..."
You shifted your gaze to your feet, too afraid to keep looking at him. "...Could we possibly not talk about this here? Please, b-bitte?" you requested quietly, afraid that your voice would crack. "What was that?"
You flinched. "I-I said...C-Can we please not talk about this here?" you repeated, still not looking at him.
"Frau, you're not looking at me," he sneaked his fingers under your chin. "It's polite to look me in the eyes," he lifted your head. "I-I...I was hoping we talk about this somewhere else," you repeated once more for only him to hear. You suddenly felt defiant, and a determined look slowly crawled to your face. "I don't care when; but I'm not talking about this here,"
he nodded, and pulled away, finally letting you go. "(Name)." he spoke seriously. "After school, I'm going to take you somewhere to speak. But when that time comes, you're going to speak whether you like it or not."
With that, he left you.
The rest of the day was normal for you; it consisted of trying to do what you were supposed to do, whether it be studying or reading a passage, or perhaps doing a problem on the board.
But, as usual, people whispered and giggled at random jokes. When you weren't looking, they threw pieces of balled up paper at you, or spitballs. Other times, hurtful notes were passed to you. By the end of the day, you were sort of wondering why you didn't just try to end it if no one would miss you.
And you were fairly sure no one would truly notice, anyway.
As you exited the building, and made way for the bike rack, in hopes Ludwig forgot, your hopes were dashed when you saw him waiting. There was no way to get away without him noticing. You had no other choice.
"Spatz," he called to you once he saw you, walking toward you with a stoic expression on his face. "It's time to speak,"
You sighed in defeat. "Fine..." you answered as you marched to what seemed like your death. As soon as you unlocked your bike, Ludwig was visibly ready to leave.
As you rode your bike, you kept silent, making sure to stay near Germany.
~le time-skip of boring boringness xD~
You found yourself seated at a table in a nearly empty coffee shop, as, halfway home, it began to rain and there was no other place to go.
He crossed a leg over the other and watched you as you sipped your (favorite hot drink), simply taking in your current, and momentary serenity. To him, you were utter perfection, with beautiful, silky (h/c) locks that he just wanted to run his hands through, and memorize the feel of, and beautiful, deep pools of (e/c) that used to seem to bore into one's soul. Your skin was not exactly flawless, but it only made you seem a little more real than your tormentors.
Of course...it was very true that you were more real than them.
He'd loved you since eighth grade; he could literally feel his stomach toss and turn whenever he was near you. But that only made it hurt worse when you started to try to distance yourself.
Finally, he cleared his throat. You looked up, your no-longer-puffy eyes looking tired and becoming a window to whom you really were, though you tried to hide behind a mask. "I need to know, now," he softly told you, knowing of your emotional exhaustion.
"Where do I begin?" you asked, your voice dull and void of emotion.
"Anywhere. Just...talk. Tell me everything,"
You took a deep breath. "...Ever since fifth grade, I've been teased and taunted just because I was alone so often. Since my grades aren't as good as they used to be, even if they are still good, they keep teasing me; telling me I'm stupid, telling me I need to try harder, telling me I'll never be any good...and just because I'm alone, that doesn't mean I'm not lonely," you remembered the various times they had verbally assaulted you. "They call me insulting names, too. They don't know how hard it is, especially when you are forced into living alone. That's mainly why it hurt so badly when I saw the poster."
"With my father all the way out of the country, and possibly halfway across the globe or further, and not even knowing where my mother moved, it's too hard to deal with it all. Sometimes I wonder why I couldn't have just died a long time ago-"
"It's my fault, isn't it...? That my mother went ahead and betrayed my father...I bet all the bad things in my life are my fault. I bet you anything, if I died tonight, nobody would care-"
He put his hand over your mouth. "(Name), stop it!" he growled, causing the few other people to begin to stare. A blush came to both your and Ludwig's cheeks.
"Er...very little of what you just said is true. It's not your fault your mother went ahead and did that; it's her own. She was being stupid. Und there is nothing wrong with being alone. You just happen to be somewhat solitary. You aren't overweight, and you aren't stupid. You're a very intelligent girl, and you're actually underweight at this point. You're right, they don't know how hard it is...but they're just bullies who have nothing better to do than picking on those who they depict to be easy targets; they're just stupid little girls who can't understand that they aren't the type of people that anyone is going to like." he told you, sitting back down.
Everyone else returned to whatever else they were doing. "(Name), if you died tomorrow, do you know how painful that'd be? You're so sweet and kind, and I would never want to change that. I would miss you if you died, your dad would miss you, anyone and everyone who knows you would miss you, even those bullies. If you died tomorrow, and I could've prevented it...I would be so unfathomably angry at myself, I wouldn't know what to do. Please don't talk like that, (Name)..."
You just stared at him, the light blush growing darker. "L-Ludwig?"
He swallowed the lump in his throat, "Ich liebe dich, schatz,"
Some people, whom had been paying attention to your conversation (like creepers) went 'awww' at Ludwig's confession.
You stood, still holding your cup and grabbed his hand. "(Name)-?"
You lead him out the door, where you whirled around, and stood on your toes until your lips hovered over his, hot tears mixing with the rain that fell on your face. "Ich liebe dich auch, Süßer," you whispered as your lips hovered his. Oh, how he loved when you spoke German.
Although it was very out of the ordinary for him to be so...romantic, so to speak, or cliché, he couldn't help but have an urge to close the gap.
But he found he didn't need to be the one to do so, after all.
You'd never felt more alive than at that moment.