AN: Based on Vienna Teng's Between and the quoted lyrics are from that. Enjoy!
It started slowly. Austria was aware of her watching him, but he played anyway, pouring his emotions out onto the keys. Hungary watched him quietly from the hall for a while, and then left him. It started to become familiar, and she would stay for longer, until one day she finally plucked up the courage to join him. She sat on a chair quietly, brown eyes focused on him, until he finished playing, when she left without a word.
At the same time he was aware of a change. She started to calm down. She had always, well, scared him a little, but she finally became more feminine. She started to wear dresses, and he found that she was actually useful about the house. Later on he found that she had actually been watching him more often than he knew.
But he played, and she watched. Sometimes, when things were going well, it would be a slow, calm rhythm, others a fast furious one as he poured out his anger into his music, and all the time she watched, silent but attentive. Until one day she was no longer silent. As he played, a soft melody filled the air as she started to sing. He almost stopped in surprise, but the music had a hold on him. Her voice was sweet, higher and smoother than he'd expected, and as they played he realised that the words were right. She had read the music, read him, and was now pouring his emotions out in the words that he could never say. Then something stirred in his heart and in the rhythm that he later identified as love.
In the end she asked him to marry her, reading it from his music. For the first time he stopped and looked at her, meeting those brown eyes. There was a moment of pause, before he left the room. Austria returned with a small box, and Hungary gasped when he knelt down in front of her, and before either of them could speak she threw herself at him. For a moment he was shocked, until he finally wrapped his arms around her too and drew her into him, burying his face in her soft hair for the first time. As he relaxed, he finally found the words on his tongue that he had struggled with for so long, and into her ear he murmured, "I love you".
They were married in the summer. Hungary had never looked so beautiful than she did on that day in her white gown, no trace of the wild creature that she had been remaining save for the wild flowers that were braided into her soft hair. And as their lips touched for the first time as man and wife Austria caught, out of the corner of his eye, a flash of white and red.
But as they settled into married life, he forgot about it entirely. They relaxed together, falling into place, comfortably and easily. Together they were stronger, but no matter what was happening in the world around them they still made sure to take time to sit together by the piano, and as Austria played his emotions out on the ivory keys, Hungary would sit against him and sing out the words that he could never say.
Years passed. The routine was comfortable and easy, and Austria barely noticed when it started to slip away. Hungary would be late or have to leave early, and a hurried kiss would be placed to his cheeks rather than his lips. Still fond, and still loving, but her attention was elsewhere. Austria didn't mind. She was a busy woman, after all, and there were still other times that they spent together.
However it was also around this time that Prussia reappeared. The other Nation forced his way into their house one day while they were eating dinner, and though Hungary had chased him out with her frying pan (and though Austria had winced when he saw it connect with the albino's head, a satisfied smirk had curved his lips too), she'd been laughing as she chased him out. Again, later on Austria found out that Prussia and Hungary had taken to sparring like they had as children.
Slowly but surely, Hungary changed. She still wore her dresses and did her chores, but something wild about her resurfaced, and Austria didn't understand it. When he looked back on that time it was obvious, but at the time he just became more and more recluse, spending more time alone with his piano. Hungary still visited him, sometimes, until her visits became more and more sparse and once again Austria became used to playing alone. And Prussia wouldn't leave him alone. He seemed to be popping up every day, stealing Austria's food and drink and leaving a mess around the house as though he owned it, a self-satisfied smirk always spread across pale lips. Austria's pieces became angrier and more frustrated as he struggled to find a way to get Prussia to leave him alone and… forgot about Hungary.
They both knew that it had ended on the same day. Austria was at the piano, and he was aware of her watching him. He didn't understand why she didn't join him, but it had been a while since she had. She had gone back to watching him a while ago, and it upset Austria for a reason he didn't understand.
Finally, he finished the piece and then looked at her, and she had hesitated before joining him. Warm lips touched his cheek and she sat down beside him, and for a moment, as Austria started to play, everything was as it once had been. Hungary took a breath as though about to sing, but then… nothing. And out of the corner of his eyes Austria caught a flash of white and red from the window, and Hungary looked up too, a soft smile on her lips.
This time Austria sung. Words finally filled him as his fingers caressed the keys, looking down at them rather than at the Nation at his side. "We are not together here, though we lie entwined. To make room for the other presence, we both draw back in our minds." He sung, quietly, and as her attention flicked back to him, he took a breath and continued. "I have a prophecy threatening to spill into words. This growing certainty of over."
Hungary's hand had moved, reaching out for his as though to stop him, but then she had paused and sighed. She had allowed him to continue, and when he had finished, leant in to kiss his cheek softly and affectionately. "I loved you, Austria." Austria nodded, but said nothing, his words spent. And as he watched them leave, rather than crying, he had returned to the instrument in front of him and played his emotions out to her as he always had.