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I Loved and I Loved and I Lost You
How can I say this without breaking?
How can I say this without taking over?
Hungary made her way down the old corridor, recalling the way it used to be filled with playful bickering and beautiful duets. The sad melody of ‘The Snow Has No Voice’ drifted up the hall from a partially open door.
There was no one telling Roderich to lighten up. There was no accompanying flute.
There was no Gilbert.
It hurt Hungary to think of him behind the wall, alone in his sorrow. She often wondered whether he also leant against the wall, desperately wishing they could touch each other again, hold each other, tell each other that they were here and they weren’t going to leave, not again.
Hungary finally arrived at the room. She peered her head in and saw her ex husband playing with his eyes closed, completely ignoring her and the sheet musics presence. His hair was a mess and for once he actually looked human instead of angelic. His eyes were red and wet, the only hint of emotion on his face.
They both missed him.
I don’t want them to know the secrets.
I don’t want them to the way I loved you.
Prussia leaned against the wall, ignoring the pocket watch that proclaimed his curfew was in a few minutes. His hands grasped at his most precious belonging. A small photograph, the only photograph he ever took, of Erzsébet and Roderich smiling. He didn’t know when he started to refer to them as their human names. Maybe it was when all he had left was his.
He knew that Erzsébet and Roderich have similar photos. Hungary’s has Roderich and him scowling at each other. Austria’s has Gilbert with his arm around Hungary, smiling at the camera.
He didn’t want to admit it, but the photo was one of the only things that kept him grounded. When Russia hurled abuse at him. When Belarus taunted him for his lack of nationhood. When Lithuania and Latvia quietly cleaned and bandaged his wounds then turned around so he could do theirs.
His missed hearing the piano at weird hours of the night when he visited Roderich. He missed the laughter when him and Erzsébet were new nations, a picture of youthful energy. He even missed the times Erzsébet would get so frustrated with him that she would hit him with that damn frying pan of hers.
He clutched the photo to his chest, leant his head back against the wall and tried to pass the water droplets on his face off as rain.
Your heart fits like a key
Into the lock on the wall
When the wall finally came down In 1989, Gilbert was the first person through. He had worked tirelessly with the others to create a hole that was big enough to climb through. As soon as he stepped into West Germany, his eyes were scanning the crowd, looking for a familiar face. He saw Arthur, Francis and Alfred further down the wall. It was obvious they had been helping with the hole from this side. Next to them, Lars and Matthew were engaged in conversation. He felt something in his chest when he saw Ludwig. He’d missed his little brother more than he cared to admit. He started to make his way towards him, willing down the disappointment in his chest when he couldn’t find her. His brother pulled him into a bone crushing hug as so as he got within reaching distance.
He let go of Ludwig and turned to look at the crowd of families reuniting. He wished that the people he also considered family were here but Gilbert knew that wishing would get him nowhere.
The two brothers were manoeuvring their way through the crying people when Gilbert felt someone grab his hand. He turned towards them and his eyes widened. Hungary pulled him into a sweet kiss, somehow conveying all of the built up emotions over the past twenty eight years. He shakily wrapped his arms around her waist. The kiss ended and Gilbert buried his face in her chestnut hair, breathing in her scent. God how he’d missed her. He noticed Roderich standing a bit behind them and smiled at him, the light in his eyes telling Austria that he’d also missed him.
Hungary pulled him closer and her arms served as reminder that he was ok and so was she. In his opinion, it could only get better from here.
How can I put it down into words
When it’s almost too much for my soul?
The End