Looks Can Be Decieving

A Hetalia Fanfic

Finland sighed as he turned over on his side for about the 17th time that night. A heavy storm was raging outside his window and the noise of the thunder crashing outside was making it very difficult to fall asleep. He grimaced as he reached up pull the white linen sheets over his head, a quite futile attempt to muffle out the noise created by the raging storm.

Ugh...I wish I had brought my earmuffs or something from Mr. Denmark's house when we came here...they would definately have come in handy tonight...

It had been about two weeks since Finland had left on an admittedly impulsive whim with Mr. Sweden from Denmark's house, and they were currently staying with their friend Estonia until they could figure out where to head next. Finland did not really regret the decision or anything. Regret wasn't the right word. Sometimes he simply found himself questioning why exactly leaving Denmark's house had seemed like such a good idea at the time. He never really quarreled with him like Sweden did; he was quite content there actually. Perhaps it was simply because deep down he wanted to do something a little daring for a change. Playing it on the safe side for most of his life, suddenly leaving for who-knew-where with Mr. Sweden for awhile was a pretty thrilling prospect at the time. He just didn't really realize how much he'd wanted such a change until the opportunity was right in front of him. Of course, at the time he hadn't truly realized how intimidating Sweden could be...not until he found himself alone with him...all of the time...honestly, just thinking about it was much more unsettling than the thunder outside. Of course Sweden never threatened to hurt him, or even spoke unkindly to him, but despite that, he was still quite scary. Perhaps not nearly as much as Mr. Russia, but...still. He often found himself wondering why his presence was quite so unsettling...

He groaned inwardly. Why did he have to think of him so much? Sure, they were traveling together, but this was ridiculous. He should be sleeping right now. Sleeping. Not pondering about why Sweden was so frightening and creepy and strange and...

Suddenly, a noise disrupted Finland's inner monologue, but it wasn't the storm outside.

It was the door creaking open.

Finland stiffened immediately. Who could that possibly be at this hour of night? Perhaps it was merely his imagination. Perhaps he was simply being paranoid as a side effect of his persistant insomnia.

But no...he could sense a presence in the room, right behind him in fact. Finland squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the urge to cry out in fear. His mind raced was seemingly ridiculous possibilities, as he could not bring himself to look behind him and find out who it was? A ghost? A monster? Or perhaps just Estonia, coming to check on him? 'Yeah right Finny,' he thought snidely immediately after. 'At this hour of night?'

He let out a tiny squeak as he felt the other side of the bed sink beside him...someone...someone was lowering himself onto his bed...

He swallowed audiably, nervous sweat breaking out on his brow. He shivered as another bout of thunder loudly reverberated throughout the room. Finland was downright trembling now, trying in vain to keep his cool. Seriously, who the hell had snuck into his bed?

Finland finally willed himself to slowly turn around and gaze down at his uninvited guest, and the first thing that registered in the darkness was...a bright crop of light blond hair, and a body half buried beneath the sheets.

A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the body, and Finland had to stop himself from gasping. Even though his head was half buried into the pillow, his face obscured from view, there was no doubt about it...

It was...Sweden?!

Finland felt like collapsing under the weight of the shock. Never, in a thousand years, did he ever expect Sweden to actually sneak into his bed. Of course, there were times they had slept together, when the circumstances deemed it inescapable (and the experience was pretty much traumatic for poor Finland). How was this happening right now? Was this a hallucination? Had he fallen asleep without realizing and now having some sort of twisted dream, or rather a nightmare?

But suddenly, Sweden's face shifted ever so slightly, and, in the light from another brief flash of lightning, Finland could see that he, of course, wasn't wearing his eyeglasses, and that his features were creased into an obvious look of...discomfort? No, not exactly, it resembled something a little closer to...

Fear.

Sweden was afraid. Now that Finland had realized it, he knew there was no mistake. It was written all over his face.

But...how?

And, more importantly, why the hell was Finland not terrifyed himself right now?

Sweden was in his bed...but why...

"Because he's...scared of thunder and lightning?" Finland found himself verbalizing the thought before he could stop himself. He froze, afraid he might have woken him up. But Sweden showed no signs of stirring from his discomforted slumber. Finland sighed, lying on his back and closing his eyes once more, but trying to register this whole thing as well. This was Sweden. Sweden of all people, the man whose's very look struck terror into Finland's very being...but then again, that was pretty much the only aspect of him that did, wasn't it? He was always kind, and considerate even. Yes, he was. He could remember back to when they had been sleeping together in the wilderness, and Sweden had cast an arm over his body to warm him. At the time, the gesture had only succeeded in frightening Finland even further, but now that he thought back to it...it was honestly...kind of...sweet.

'Sweet? Sweden...sweet? I can't believe I'm actually using that word to describe him now...' Finland thought, smiling despite himself. 'I must really be going crazy or something...'

Then, he felt something. Something warm and soft, pressing into his right hand. Finland's eyes shifted to his right, and he found himself gasping softly.

Sweden had actually reached out and gripped Finland's hand in his sleep. His grip was gentle yet firm, and it instantly filled Finland's own hand with a comforting warmth.

Finland, rather than being alarmed or nervous, actually found himself smiling again. Carefully, he curled his fingers around Sweden's large hand, and settled down under the sheets once more.

The storm outside was finally dying down. No more bright flashes of lightning, no more echoing crashes of thunder; just a mild wind that rattled the trees outside the window, and the sound of Sweden's steady breathing.

Finland shifted a few inches closer to Sweden and closed his eyes, never moving to take his hand out of Sweden's.

'Well...I guess this just goes to show you that looks can be decieving...' Finland thought to himself, closing his eyes.

His smile never left his lips that night as he finally drifted to sleep.