The bitter smell of fresh coffee lifted his heavy eyelids; his bloodshot eyes missing their iconic, lively silver sparkle, the dark circles making their presence known.
Tired and sleepless, the bicoloured country felt as if the unpleasant taste of a black coffee was the only thing keeping him going, elevating its status to one equivalent to a holy grail.
Although, its taste was still best comparable to dirt...
Muttering a couple of insults at himself, he rubbed his eyes, regretting his own irresponsible actions.
This tiredness wasn't without a reason.
Spending an entire night overthinking things and tossing from side to side left him in such a restless state.
Uninvited, the thought of Germanic nation's words stayed and lingered in his mind, until the first shy rays of morning sun blessed the blues of the sky.
It couldn't be helped, no matter how much as he wished to be able to stop,
he couldn't.
An explanation had been pretty much served to him on a platter, and yet, that only caused more chaos in his mind.
His questions have been answered last night, so why is he still questioning the answers?
Answers that birth more questions.
Questions that birth no answers.
One thought, that was perhaps most troubling of them all - why is he reminiscing the sights?
The numerous mental images of the tricoloured country's different expressions; from soft smiles to the inquisitive look on his face,
his gentle laughter or the sweetness and the heat of his chocolate gaze...
They all made him feel... so warm?
It was an unreasonable rush.
A feeling in equal parts inexplicable and indescribable for him.
Has he finally gone mad?
He shuffled through the documents, trying to focus on his work.
Hours went by at an unreasonable pace, as the bicoloured country struggled greatly in completing the documents, unwanted images still flashing before his eyes. The man groaned in dissatisfaction, rubbing his temples.
Why?
Why is he so distracted by his own thoughts?
With every minute passing by, his eyelids were getting heavier.
He pulled out a single cigarette from the breast pocket of his embroidered black waistcoat;
putting it into his mouth with one hand and lighting it with another.
Before he could enjoy the presence of smoke filling his lungs, drowning out the white noise of irritating thoughts and emotions, it got swiftly snatched away from his lips.
"How many times have I said this, Polen?! NO smoking." Complained the German with an obvious hint of motherly worry in his voice. Some could even find this funny due to the age wide gap between them, that is, if they weren't both fully grown adults.
The Pole, as annoyed as that made him, he still remained silent, only furrowing his thick eyebrows in response.
" Is something wrong?" Germany cocked his head.
"No." The bicoloured country avoided making eye contact with the other.
Looking him straight into the eye could've very well end up being a death sentence for him at this moment.
Those round dark eyes always got everything they wanted from him.
He just lost his composure...
Every. Darn. Time.
" Don't lie, I know that you smoke when something gets to you." His voice slightly softened as he rubbed his shoulder reassuringly, his touch making all anger melt away.
YOU ARE READING
unFRIENDLY RIVALRY: countryhumans
Historical FictionPoland is a country with an unpleasant history and many conflicts. Now with the fall of communism, he has managed to pull through the difficult times and move on from the trauma of the WWII. Currently all of his cities were fully rebuilt and he hi...
