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Sweden bit his lips hard, nearly ripped his own skin. He read the letter just given to him, the mailman seemed nervous, as he shook his head and sighed. The Swede inhaled, a deep breath in, pulled his face while opening the envelope. It was a wrinkled and dirty envelope without name nor address of the owner. But he knew who sent it, his intuition could tell right away the letter belonged to Finland, his neighbor and his lover. Finland was dragged in a continued war with the most powerful force at that time, the Soviet Union. Yet Sweden did help his neighbor fight against the Tyranny, spontaneously. Sweden even changed his status from a neutral country to non-belligerent to help Finland easier.
Yes, he cared about Finland, he wanted to help Finland.
On the other hand, Finland himself didn't want his lover to be involved in the war that much, he just asked for a little help but Sweden really did his best. So it was a bit weird if Finland had sent the letter to ask for more help, he was the kind of a man preferred to solve everything by self. Perhaps he was in a rough situation that needed more support? Sweden thought, his face turned to the usual "scary face".
He opened the letter, read it quick, it was Finland's letter. Sweden recognised his lover's handwriting, but this time it looked like someone wrote it in a trembled and real weak state. Sweden gritted his teeth. Yeah, Finland was injured. He literally tried to write the letter himself despite his wounds.
"...It's not really bad, just some gunshots. But don't worry, I'll heal real quick. I should be more careful next time!"
As cheerful as usual, Sweden sighed. If Finland had to write a letter to inform Sweden about his situation despite the risk of being spied, definitely he got severe injuries. The letter didn't officially mention anything about Finland himself, just impliedly. But Sweden knew he was the one wrote it. It was disguised as a letter from a soldier in a field hospital sent to his family to avoid the Soviet spies. Because if they had known their foe was injured and had to stick in bed, Sweden sighed again, that definitely wouldn't have been good news to Finland.
Sweden looked at the letter again, there was something written on the corner of the paper. The address!
It was the Swedish Red Cross Hospital voluntarily served in Finland during the Continuation War.
Sweden knew how much his lover wanted to meet him to write the letter himself. He decided to go and see him right away.
...
Sweden could easily go into the Finnish territory but to avoid spies, he disguised himself as a Swedish volunteer and traveled by the train with other volunteers. They didn't recognise their country, just thought he was another man volunteered to fight for their Finnish brothers, a young man with a bit shy and serious demeanour.
He crossed his arms while standing in the corner of the train cabin and staring at the young and cheerful Swedes talked about their dreams, their determination fighting for their neighbor. Their stories somehow warmed that man's heart. He smiled looking at them like their father.
Suddenly, those boys turned to Sweden, asked him curiously:
"Hey man, what about you? Why you chose to go to Finland?"
Sweden embarrassingly mumbled, he wasn't used to talk to strangers. And he was surprised they asked him despite his effort not to talk to anyone of them.
"Me? Mhmm...(He thought quickly, Finland flashed upon him right away)...I want to revenge for my friend who is a Finn got injured fighting against the Soviets!" He remembered about Finland and his letter, immediately answered.
The Swede blushed. His face turned red. A habit whenever he thought about Finland.
But those young men weren't idiots, they giggled. Sweden's expression was so funny, they decided to tease him a bit.
"Man, be honest. That person doesn't sound like your friend at all. Is that your lover?"
They grinned looking at him naughtily. So embarrassing! Sweden wanted to jump out of the train or just shoot himself right then. He coughed, tried to keep his voice not trembled.
"Nej--nej! He's just a friend of mine. (He stopped. Yet he added after a while thinking)---But he's a brave man who dared to face an entire Soviet troop alone back in Winter War. And he has surprisingly strong mind that he needs no one to protect him on the battlefield, he even could take care of his wounded comrades while destroying a tank and stopping the enemy strike."
Sweden couldn't stop himself bragging about his lover, the one he admired the most. Those praising words he said directly from the bottom of his heart. Yes, Finland always is the coolest man in Sweden's eyes, he's so strong and brave in spite of his cute baby face. Sweden thought of his adorable smile, his small appearance and his amethyst color eyes. Finland is a pretty boy yet he has the heart of a lion. His lion always brings along a sword in its knight arm, wears a crown and stands on another sword. The lion of iron heart. Finland is not a small weak country, actually he is the lion to be scared of. Sweden knew it. He knows it. And he never forgets it.
He sighed in relief. Finland was so strong, he could fight the Soviet and shock the entire world with his tactical talent. He had never been a crybaby before, he was always the one protected Sweden, the one struck on first, the one surrendered last. He was the terror on the battlefield from the very first battle he joined. He helped Sweden keep the title "Lion of the North", he helped Sweden defeat nearly half of Europe. Finland was a sturdy man, he needed no one to worry about him. Sweden thought of his petit back, full of scars but still shined as a warrior. The Swede smiled, his heart jumped rapidly in his ribs. His lover was not a fragile little baby. He didn't need to worry about him that much.
Sve calmed himself. He held his hands tightly and exhaled a deep breath.
The young volunteers looked at him admired, they surrounded the Swede like children surrounded their father, asked him to tell more about the Finnish friend of him. They had never heard about any man who was that great, yet they knew a Finn who shot down nearly half a thousand men with an iron-sight rifle. Sweden smiled at them gently, as he began his story about the Finn he loved the most.
"He is the strongest man I have ever seen in my entire life. He can defeat an entire enemy battalion by himself. He can shoot just like the man named Simo Häyhä you just mentioned. And he can suffer any kind of torture, he never surrenders. He never kneels."
"Why we never've heard about a man that great?" One of the young Swedes asked curiously.
"Because he's a humble man, he doesn't want to talk about his wartime achievements but talks nonstop about silly things he finds cute." Sweden giggled, a rare thing to see. But the Swedish boys didn't knew that, they were busy thinking about that Finnish man. They thought he was a hairy hulky guy who smelled like he just drank twelve kegs of vodka and talked with a deep voice like lions roar. But they didn't know Finland looked like a boy just like them, maybe younger and smaller, and definitely prettier, with an angelic voice sounded like ringing bells. Sweden gently smiled, looking at his men discussing about his lover excitedly.
"How can we meet him? I wanna see that man! He's so freaking cool!" The boys forgot they wanted to tease their country, that Finn really amazed their minds. They even thought of asking him for an autograph or photo.
"He just got injured and now staying in the hospital. He's real weak now, I'm afraid I can't see him myself although he asked me to come over."
Sweden sighed. He bit his lips. Again.
Those young men stunned. Looked at each other. Some shook their heads. They decided to shut their chat.
The train went on in complete silence.
...
The Swedish volunteers were sent to Haparanda in Sweden then transferred to Torneå in Finland for training. They had to sign a contract with the Finnish government before joining in the actual war.
....
When the train stopped at the Northern town Haparanda, the Swedes put on their m1909 fur coats and hats before getting out of the train. They couldn't hold their excitement in, they smiled brightly as their shiny eyes filled with determination.
Sweden looked at them, the burden in his heart somehow was lifted away. He smiled along, in relief.
He waved at them when they left. The men waved back excitedly.
"Lycka till!" They yelled at him.
"And tell your friend we admire him!"
"Maybe get us his photo! I wanna see that cool man!"
They added, giggled.
Sweden grinned.
Now he was left alone. In silence. He added a bit changes to his clothes as he went into the Finnish territory. He changed the Swedish national insignia to Finnish one, attached the brotherhood insignia of four nations on his label. Then he wore the medic arm band and added the medic badge to his collar. Disguising as a medic was the easiest way to travel to the front during wartime and no one ever suspected. Beside that, he needed to go into a hospital so pretend to be a medic is the best way he could think of.
...
When he arrived at the Swedish Red Cross hospital near the Swedish-Finnish border, one of the Swedish volunteer nurses greeted him as they had met before. Some of his people knew him, and he had visited this hospital several times before, as a nation presenter. The nurse knew immediately why Sweden came this time and had to wear a medic officer uniform. She led him to Finland's room, isolated on the third floor. They needed to place him somewhere separated from ordinary people. They knew he was their country and they sure were well aware of the risk being spied by the Soviets.
The nurse and Sweden walked side by side along the corridor, he looked at how the nurses and lotta svärds carefully took care of the patients or cleaned the room, admiring them silently.
As they arrived at Finland's room, the only room on the third floor, the nurse explained Finland's current condition and things Sweden needed to know before got in the room. She claimed that the Finn was treated only by the head doctor as well as the nurses or in the busiest hours, by the elder lotta, so no need to worry about spies. Sweden nodded gratefully.
She turned back, left Sweden alone in front of the door to Finland's room.
But he didn't come in right away. He took time standing there to listen if the Finn had been awake yet. Just silence. And echoes from below.
He breathed in. He decided to come in.
He knocked on the door, tenderly.
"Please come in."
Finland weakly answered. His lover's voice! Sweden was astounded for a second. His heart almost jumped out his chest. Finland's sweet lovely voice! Sweden nearly bursted out in tear as he heard.
The Swede gently opened the door, came in as much quiet as he could. His lover was half lying on the bed, alone, reading a book left opened on his lap. He was so surprised seeing Sweden, but he quickly kept his voice down.
"Ah, Sve! You really came!" He smiled, greeted Sweden with his usual cheerful face.
"Mhmm. How are you now?" Sweden came close to the bed, sat down beside him as he took off the coat.
"Great! The doctor treated me so well. He said these were just minor injuries, no need to worry much!" Finland excitedly answered.
Sweden took a careful look at him. Half of his head was wrapped in bandages, as well as his shoulder and left arm. His arm was lifted onto as if it was broken. And most of his hair was cut off, it was not as fluffy as before. His mouth seemed to be scratched off as there were a long scar, it was sewed together, the thread was still there. He lied. Definitely. He didn't want the Swede to worry about him. As always. Sweden sighed. He patted on Finland's back tenderly, tried not to hurt him.
The room was filled in warm sunlight, the window beside the bed illustrated the peaceful backyard. Some birds sang their little songs to heal the patients' minds. Sweden could see some lottas doing the laundry and some soldiers wandering by. There was no cloud, the sky dyed in the jade blue color, as beautiful as Sweden's eyes. Sometimes a plane with a blue swatika painted on its side flew by, its patrol routine.
A beautiful peaceful day, something you forgot it was existed during the fierce wartime. Sweden sighed, again. His face pulled down in sorrow. He turned away as he didn't want Finland to see his expression.
"So...why did you send me the letter?"
He mumbled, his face burned in red.
"I---I just wanted to write someone a letter but I couldn't think of anyone. It was so embarrassing sending a letter to an acquaintance or a complete stranger. So I decided to send it to you." Finland laughed nervously. His voice trembled.
"That day, the elder lotta allowed me to join dinner with other patients because she worried that I was nearly dead from loneliness being isolated from other people. They fed us sausage soup with bread, cookies and coffee. Some lottas and patients even shared me their ration of sugar cubes! We talked about almost everything but the war. They told me about their beloved ones waiting for them at home, their families, their lovers, their friends. We discussed what to write home. Some even noted down their ideas during meal. Yeah it was so fun! But I felt lonely and left alone 'cause I never got myself any personal letters, just letters from my bosses. When I returned to my room, I immediately wrote a letter. Yet I knew no one to send mine. So I chose you."
Finland smiled, his lovely face filled with a pure happiness. Sweden felt an urge to cry. He grinded his teeth to calm down.
"It was nothing important. You don't have to take it serious. But I'm really grateful that you came here just because of my letter."
Finland looked down, his voice quieted down and trembled.
Sweden patted on his hand clumsily.
"Do you want to go outside?" Sweden suddenly asked.
"Uhmm--I don't know if the doctor allows me to---"
"I'll ask him." The Swede mumbled, he stood up and left the room in hurry.
When he was out, he burst in tear. He couldn't hold himself anymore seeing his lover's buried in bandages and wounds. He couldn't hold his tear listening to Finland's pure happiness and his sorrowful voice. He cried himself out loud.
When he calmed down. He walked down the hall to find the head doctor. Somehow he passed by the kitchen. He heard some lottas talking, they were making dinner. The smell was so great, it made Sweden hungry, he was so busy thinking of his lover so he forgot to eat. The smell of pullas, smell of soup, and smell of coffee. And warmness. And the peaceful feeling. It was like at home, when you could comfortably stretch your legs, lean on the cushions and dream about the most frivolous dream you have ever imagined. The moment you thought it never existed. But here. It stationed here.
The lottas were just some girls filled in sweet dreams. They talked about their men, their families, who was the most galant or handsome patient, even who they admired the most. They giggled, they teased each other. Someone shouted as she blushed her face. They were so adorable! Just looking at them could make your heart melt in joy.
One of the girls talked about her hometown in Viipuri. She said she missed her mother's comfort dish, something she would make when any of her family member felt sick, the Karelian stew. But her mother died because of the bombardment. Her family evacuated, her little sisters and brothers came to Sweden. She was left alone here. She sobbed, the kitchen filled in silence. The other lottas hugged her, trying to ease her.
Sweden sighed.
He thought about the dish she mentioned, the Karelian stew. Finland had made it several times. Many many years ago. When they lived together. He remembered the smell. The lovely smell reminded him of their precious time, just them two alone, together cooking in the endless winter nights. Memories flew by. When they hadn't been separated. When they thought the world was just a fairytale filled with victories. When the princes lived in happiness forever and ever. But war. War came. The sorrowful requiem never ended its evilness. Fallen men buried in blood and mud. And regret burned dreams to ashes. The abeles burned in deep deep anger. Many men marched. As many men fell. But war. In winter shape. Remained. Never faded away.
Sweden hadn't eaten the Karelian stew for a long time. A hundred years? He couldn't remember. But he knew it was Finland's favourite dish. He decided to make his lover some.
...
Sweden met the doctor, got his permission to let Finland out of his room for a break. The Swede came back and help Finland got out to take a walk outside. The sun was bright. And warm. The pines cheered in peace. Grass and moss smelled like the old summers. Berries bloomed their white little flowers. And heath bloomed in reddish purple. Kaarina. The Kaarina flowers.
They sat at the border of the woods and smoked. Sweden helped light Finland's cigarette with his own, their face touched each other's. Sweden realized how closed they were. He blushed. But he closed his eyes. Took off the cigarette. And kissed his lover. On the lips. Finland's lips tasted salty. And a bit bitter. The smell of medicine. The smell of hospital. His nose touched Finland's bandaged face, the Finn trembled abit. It hurted. Sweden tried to kissed as much gently as he could. They ended it quickly. And smoked in quiet. Enjoyed the peaceful moment of spring during the endless war. They nearly got asleep, leaning on each other's shoulders.
...
Sweden volunteered to bring Finland his dinner. Usually it was a lotta's job but a medic could do it too. Finland usually ate alone in his room. He only joined with others occasionally. Sweden brought his dinner prepared in the mess tin to Finland's room to have together.
It was sausage soup and breads. As always. But Sweden especially added his handmade meatball in Finland's ration.
When he brought the meal to Finland's room, the Finn was so amazed and moved. Sweden offered to feed him, Finland refused at first, but after looking around to check no other people were there, he agreed to.
Just like the good old time. When they were smaller. Sometimes little Finland got sick, the Swedish boy sat beside and tried to feed him his porridge. Nearly a thousand years ago. They were together for that long time? They fought side by side for hundreds and hundreds of years. It was a real long era for not only human but countries themselves. Now they are bigger, stronger, but they still stay together, never let anyone separate them anymore.
Sweden gently fed the Finn his soup, carefully blew it before put in Finland's mouth. He held his breath when his hand touched the Finn's face. His pale skin was so soft and cold. Even when the war left on several red open wounds, he was still pretty. He made Sweden thought of the muguet flower, his scent, his skin, his lips, everything about him was just like the lily of the valley. But he was the most beautiful muguet on Earth. The strongest, the most determined flower with no fragile petal.
When they were done having meal together, the Swede helped Finland lie down to take some rest before he could change his clothes. Sweden sat on the chair beside the bed, held Finland hand and squeezed it tenderly. He told his lover about the conversation between him and the Swedish men on train. Finland smiled sheepishly, his face blushed when Sweden told him that he bragged how awesome Finland was. The Finn was dim when the story ended. So Sweden fixed the blanket, puffed his pillow before leaving the room in quiet. He noticed Finland put a tin soldier toy on the table beside bed, he thought it was a gift from some boy, the Swede touched the soldier gently, smiled as he got out of the room.
...
He took a walk alone in the backyard. He was about to lit his cigarette, suddenly a lotta came to him.
"Mister medic, could I speak to you for a sec?"
She asked dearly in the Karelian accent. Sweden was quite stunned but he remembered he was disguising as a medic.
"Sure. What happened?" Sweden nodded, trying not to scare the girl.
"Nothing much. I just wanted to talk to strangers. Maybe they won't worry and try to help me like my friends, I don't want them to feel nervous about me. I'm so exhausted from my work, ya know, it's not easy at all." The girl looked down at her shoes, mumbled sheepishly.
Sweden smiled, gently put his hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Ja, then let me hear your story."
She looked up at his face, he was so tall and somehow looked like a man came from a fairytale story, his handsome face, his gentle smile, his warm deep voice. She immediately knew this man was not any medic at all. She didn't know who he actually was but he gave her the safe feeling no one could ever do.
"How---how could you speak Finnish so well?" She asked admiringly looking at his Swedish uniform.
"I have lived here a quite long time. Longer than you can expect." He tried to wink at her, that was what Finland usually did when he talked to girls. Sweden didn't know why he noticed and learned that habit. He led the lotta to sit with him together on a long bench near the building.
"So what do you want to tell me?"
"Nothing much. I just want to rant a bit. Everything has been so tense lately, you know. I have seen many patients come in this hospital and never come out alive. Their wounds, blood and flesh, sometimes body parts fall out suddenly. It scares me! I hate seeing blood! I hate seeing people get hurt! I hate hopelessly looking at them crying in their dream. I hate when I hear them scream because of their wounds and the only thing I can do is injecting morphine or giving them painkillers. I can't do anything to heal them at all! And I'm a medical lotta myself. Why bother being a medical lotta when you can't help anyone? I feel useless. More and more people leave me because I can't save them. I feel guilty. I feel hopeless. I hate everything happens here. I hate when some patients ask me to write home the day before but die before I can even finish their letter. It's just unfair. You know. Because of war. Why people like war anyways? I hate it. Gross. War is gross. Just gross."
She stopped for a bit. She bursted in tear. Sweden decided to keep silence. He gave her his handkerchief. Her shoulders trembled in anger. In fear. In sorrow.
"I have met some Soviet prisoners. They are not that bad as people keep talking about. Some are just poor gentlemen who couldn't speak at all but tried their best to help our lotta works. One even gave me some flowers he found in the forest. When I think about it, I realize they are fighting for their homeland too. They are forced to go in the war, forced to kill or be killed. Just like us. Just like our men. They are just as pathetic as our men. I realize everyone is just the same pathetic. No one wants to fight at all. No one wants war at all. Why war still remains? Why it still harms us? We don't need war anyways!"
She cried out. Her voice buried in tear. Sweden sighed. He had heard it many times. A thousand years ago. Many people came to him to ask that. Many people knew that. Yet war still remained. Until today. Why? He didn't know the answer. He tried to answer it many times before, when he was just a little boy. But once you have the answer can you stop war with it? He stopped. He never thought about it again.
The lotta still sobbing, her hair fell off on her shoulder, wet by her tear. Sweden gently cover her with his coat, silently hiding his sorrowful eyes.
"I miss my family. I miss my brother. He sacrificed just two weeks ago. He was a sweet man who just had a girlfriend last year. His girlfriend's so pretty that sometimes I even envied with her. But now...I don't know what to say to her. I tried to write a letter to comfort her but I couldn't. What should I say now? What should I write about? Nothing can help her now. And myself. I miss him. I miss him as much as she does."
She took out a wooden thing from her pocket, showed it to Sweden.
"This is his gift for me. Last Christmas. The very last time he ever came home. He never comes home again. This is a cat he carved during his freetime. We have a cat back in our home. I thought cats had shorter lifetime than human, but now, the cat's still alive and my brother's gone."
The wooden thing she called a cat had "sisko" carved on its side. Sweden sighed.
"He loved Karelian stew the most. Yet he could never have it again."
The girl sobbed painfully.
She talked no more. Silence. Complete silence.
"Have you ever had it before, mister medic?"
She asked, looking at Sweden with her wet eyes.
"Several times. Yeah. My beloved one had made for me." He answered, trying not to look directly in her eyes.
"Do you want to know how to make it?" After a while, she asked. Her voice seemed calm down. And her shoulders stopped trembling.
"Ja! 'd love to!"
Then she led Sweden back in the kitchen. The night fell. It was quiet and cold outside. Everything shut. Just silence remained.
...
When Finland woke up, he saw his lover fell asleep beside him, still sitting on the chair. Someone covered him with a blanket and left breakfast on the table next to bed with some flowers. They had pullas for breakfast, with coffee. Finland especially had more sugar cubes than anyone else in the hospital, including the head doctor. The Finn gently petted his lover's hair, he just wanted to cry like a child. But he inhaled and decided to stay calm.
Sweden woke as he felt Finland touched him. His glasses were taken off and put on the side table carefully. Finland smiled cheerfully as he saw his lover woke up. Sweden smiled back at him.
They had breakfast together. Finland was so talkative, his voice and the birds outside sounded joyful. He talked about everything but war, the book he read, the flowers in the backyard, the birds, sunlight. Sweden smiled looking at him, his heart filled with cherish.
Suddenly, the Swede pointed at the tin soldier on the table.
"What's that thing?" He asked curiously.
Finland took it. He gazed at it for a while, his eyes looked so sorrowful.
"It belongs to a Soviet soldier. When we struck on, he was lying down on the mud with his leg was blown up by grenade. His mouth was full with blood as it was torn off half. He was at the edge of death. When I passed by, all of sudden he gripped my arm. He tried to say something but his mouth was filled with blood. He choked by blood. He cried because of pain. I could only hear him said, "bring this back to my son" in Russian when he gave me this toy. He passed away right then. I didn't know if he had noticed I was his enemy, I stunned, he was dead but still held my arm, his blood stained on my clothes, and the toy. I took his toy and went away. He died before he could say anything else. I tried to search his belongings but found nothing about him nor his family. I didn't know his name. I didn't know where he lived. I didn't know why he chose me to give his toy."
Finland looked away. Sweden knew why. He didn't say anything. The Finn trembled, held tight on the soldier toy.
"I don't know why but I decided to keep this with me. At least I think that was what the man wanted, maybe he didn't want his son's beloved toy left on the battlefield."
Suddenly Sweden hugged him, gently. He said nothing. Nothing at all. Finland smiled sadly. Then the Swede kissed his lover, repeatedly, as always, from forehead, nose, cheeks. And lips. He had troubles tried to find place for his kisses because Finland's face was covered in bandages and injuries.
They kissed for so long. So so long. In silence.
....
A nurse came in and asked Sweden to help change the Finn's clothes, they thought he was the one took charge of Finland. Sweden accepted right away. He had done it many times before so it was nothing difficult to him. But Finland blushed. He covered his face in both of his hands, trying to hide his red face.
They had taken bath together many times before, they had seen each other naked many times before as well. They even had sex before. It was nothing to be embarrassed of. But Sweden didn't force his lover to, he just smiled, deciding to tease Finland a bit.
"Just relax. I won't do anything weird to you. I swear." Sweden tried to keep him not to laugh, as he winked suspiciously at the Finn.
"Why---Why it sounds like you definitely will do something weird to me?" Finland yelled, his ears were red as well.
Sweden grinned. "Why would I? I'm a medic not a pervert. And I have seen you naked many times before. Why would you act like I'm a complete stranger?"
"Ohyaaa---stop! I know! I know! But it's so embarrassing!" Finland nearly cried. He pushed Sweden out as he tried to touch him.
"Wha---? Then should I call a nurse?"
Sweden changed to his serious scary face. He didn't want to threaten the Finn, he was just teasing. But Finland suddenly shut up. He splitted his fingers covering his face and looked at Sweden.
"I--I want you---" he spoke in tiny voice.
"Say it louder, I can't hear you." Sweden grinned evilly.
Finland gritted his teeth in anger. He just wanted to cry.
"I want you to help me change my clothes." His face was so red you could mistake him with a tomato.
"Now, now, I just want to tease you a bit. Don't be mad at me." Sweden kissed on the angry Finn's forehead, he was so cute when he was mad. Just like a puppy! Sweden smiled.
"If you wanna help me that much, shut up and do it quick." Finland demanded him with a trembling voice.
Sweden professionally took off the Finn clothes and helped him clean himself, when he touched Finland's body, the Finn gritted his teeth and blushed again. But the Swede said nothing. He just silently did his job. He even changed the bandages and sterilized the Finn's wounds as if he was an actual medic.
When he was done, Finland's face was still buried in his hands. The Swede sighed.
"It's done. Stop covering your face."
"Wha--? What? You didn't do anything weird at all?" Finland blushed in surprise.
"You want me to do that much?" Sweden couldn't stop himself to grin again.
"Niin! Niin! I just wanna ask!" He shouted immediately.
Sweden then came closer, whispered by his ear.
"Don't worry, just wait, when you are completely healed I'll do what you're thinking of, as much brutally as you want."
The Finn nearly cried in embarrassment.
Sweden hugged him softly. The Finn trembled in his arms.
"I can't wait for that moment. Do you?" He kissed his lover's forehead, smiled ironically.
Finland said nothing.
...
Finland was lying down on his bed, continuing reading his book. Sweden was busy helping with the hospital volunteer works. He left Finland alone in his room right after changing his clothes.
...
it was lunch time.
Sweden came in the room with the tray. Something smelled familiar.
It was Karelian stew!
Finland was so shocked! He bursted out of bed, immediately.
"What? We have Karelian stew today? But how since we don't have much ingredients?"
Sweden put a finger on Finland's lips, shut him down gently.
"Shhh, this is prepared only for you especially." He smiled proudly.
"You--you made this?" Finland suspectedly asked.
Sweden nodded.
"But how? You know how to make this? I haven't taught you before---Who taught you the recipe? Not me. Definitely not me. Or did you know it but never told me?" Finland mumbled, he was so surprised that Sweden could make a Karelian dish.
"I just learned how to make this yesterday. I know you love Karelian stew so I asked a Karelian girl to teach me. I wanna make this for you because it was always you who cooked this for me." Sweden gently put the tray on the side table. He sat down and began to feed Finland with his proud dish.
"Now, taste it and let me know if I made it the right way."
Finland closed his eyes as Sweden put the food in his mouth. The beef stew. It reminded the Finn those far far away memories when he made this for Sweden. The old peaceful days they lived together. The smell, the taste, it was just like the meals they ate together during the endless winter days. Just like a dream. A dream you never want to wake up from.
He cried.
Sweden patted on his shoulders, gently.
They hugged each other, the warm feeling filled their hearts. The old peaceful days returned.
Just these two together. Never separated again.
Nothing could hurt them anymore. Nothing could harm them anymore.
Just them. Side by side. Again.