Coffee. Every morning was the same. Lukas would wake up, make coffee, get ready, and make more coffee.
And that was what he decided to do today.
Coffee was Lukas' haven. A bitter liquid that pulled him out of reach from the grasping tendrils of drowsiness, threatening him with slumber.
His feet padded softly down the carpeted stairs, pat, pat. And he walked silently into the kitchen, preparing the coffee maker.
However, when he went to retrieve the coffee beans from the cupboard, he noticed they had gone.
It was gone.
His coffee. Gone. All of it.
He didn't need to turn around to know who was standing in the doorway.
"MATHIAS! What have you done with it? Where have you put it?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about, dear Lukas."
Lukas stared at the blonde man who he supposed was his 'friend'
Well. Not any more.
"Tell me. Before I punch you."
The Dane's smile seemed to falter, but never truly fell. The only thing that fell was this man, onto his knees.
"Please, Lukas! It was a dare between me and some friends! I can't give you any coffee until tomorrow! Don't kill me please!"
Lukas wanted to kill him, he truly did, but without the coffee he couldn't muster up enough energy.
"Just get out of my house."
"You might hang yourself."
True. The thought did seem very inviting.
The larger man sat himself next to Lukas, who was curled into a fetal position, vulnerable and quite mortified.
"I can't believe you did this."
"Jeez, Lukas it's just for a day."
Lukas didn't answer, instead folding himself into an even tighter ball.
"Lukas... Luuuuukas... Lukaaaaassssssss? Lukas? Norge? Norway?"
No response. Leaning down, Mathias wrapped his arms around the younger nation, emitting a slight growl and a twitch.
"Leave me alone, Mathias, I'm tireeeed..."
However, Lukas made no move to stop the other, instead shuffling round into a more comfortable position so that he was on his back, facing the Dane.
"Go away. I can't be bothered with you."
The Dane would only inch further, slowly lifting Lukas up and shifting him, so that Mathias was at the bottom, Lukas lying weakly on his chest.
"Aww, Lukas! You're so cuddly when you sleep! So cute!"
But Lukas was already asleep. His soft, pale face resting in the crook of Mathias' neck, his small frame rising and falling with every breath.
And he belonged to Mathis.
At least, that's what he thought.
To him, Lukas was his, and his only, the small nation he had protected earlier in his life.
And then left.
And it crushed Mathias to think about that painful, sorrowful memory. So he clutched Lukas, gently rocking back and forth, humming some unknown lullaby.
Pressing his lips to the other's head, and curling up so he could go back to sleep too.
And the Norwegian smiled.
Done! Third story! I can't stop, and I know these are all poopy oneshot things that people don't read, but I promise to write longer stories once my confidence has gone up!
Please say what you think I can improve! I need you experts to tell me how to get better! So, thank you for reading!