You climbed(painfully) out of the car of your best friend. The driver, a 25 year old, tall Scot with piercing green eyes, fiery red hair and light freckles on his body named Allistor, looked at you with a mix of sympathy and pity, and grabbed his lighter. You gave him a weak smile
'Yer sure ye can do't on yer own, lassie?' He asked, digging up a wrinkled cigarette from his pocket and lighting it.
You nodded. 'Of course Scottie. I'm not that weak!'
'Th'names Allistor, lass!' Allistor grinned, taking a long drag of his cigarette. 'Not Scott!'
You giggled. 'That rimes, Al! And I call you like that because you're Scotland. You know, Scottland.'
'Yer must be kiddin' me.'
'I am not.' You grinned.
Allistor chuckled, but soon his expression turned worried again. 'Yer sure ye can stay on yer own?'
'Yes, you already sorta asked that. Don't be that worried!'
He rolled his eyes and smiled, letting the greyish white smoke move from his mouth. 'Yer strong, [y/n]. I be sure Matthias likes tha'.'
You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks by the thought of Denmark only. You met him when Tim and Ludwig, your other best friends, dragged you to a pub somewhere in Amsterdam. The pub was special for countries, so every country could go there. But it also could be Berlin, or London. Or even Copenhagen. Strange that in every capital of every country and nation are such sort of pubs. But anyway, you met Matthias Kohler, also known as Denmark, in that pub. He called himself "the King of Europe" and you thought that he was quite full of himself. Turned out he probably was worse then Gil. He was very different than Ludwig and Tim, and they were one of Mat's closest friends(what you thought was very strange, but the three have the same interest in soccer). Even though they could be loud when drunk(what happens by taking in a large amount of beer, Jenever, Jägermeister or whatever more for drinks), Matthias is, well, louder. Much and much louder. You loved it. Once, he fell off his barstool because he laughed that hard. Not much time later you joined him. While Tim and Ludwig were doubling over with laughter on the couch, you and Mat lay giggling on the floor.
'S-shut up Allistor...' you stuttered, not coming well out of your words.
Allistor laughed. 'Call me, Lud, Tim, Mat, Mattie, Al, Artie, Dyl'n, Seamus, Gilbert, Francypants, Antonio, Bella, Lizzy, Rod, anyone, if ye need any help. 'greed?'
You nodded. 'Yes mom.'
''ey!' Allistor said in a angry tone, although he was grinning like an idiot. 'If I sound like a parent, a' least call me "dad"!'
You laughed. 'Yes, Al. I’ll call.' You giggled, realizing that it rimed.
'Brilliant.' He said, and his eyes wandered off to your painful spot. 'And succ's with yer leg, lassie.
He waved and drove away.
And there you were. Almost helpless.
You were on winter sports, and you went skiing. Bad. Decision. You fell, got a heavily bruised knee and a heavily bruised ankle. All on your right leg. You absolutely hated it. You were one night in the hospital, and then you had to go to your own house. you couldn't stay any longer in the hospital, because the health insurance wouldn't pay that. So here we are. The doctor said you could easily stand on it, only if you wouldn't do much with your leg.
With pain, you limped towards your front door. You dug into your pocket for the keys and unlocked the door slowly. You stumbled inside. With much difficult you crashed down on my couch, exhausted of your little trip. You closed your eyes, and felt you slowly fell asleep.
When you woke up, the first feeling was painful knee. Then, painful ankle and painful right leg. And last, hungry.
'Shit,' you mumbled. Standing up carefully, you hobbled towards the kitchen, making breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. You didn't care at the time.
After you succeeded had making and eating your breakfast/lunch/dinner, you tried to get upstairs. It was like going through hell. You grabbed the banister and began to pull yourself up. Finally reaching to first floor you felt like getting down on the floor and stay there, but you knew you had to go to a bed. You began to hop on one leg if that is even possible, and got into your room. Not caring if you should put on your pajamas or not, you fell down on your bed. Totally exhausted, you were already asleep when your head hit your pillow.
TIMESKIP!! Brought you by Danish Blue cheese^^
You woke up. Looking at your digital timer, you groaned. It was already 12:04. You tried to get out of bed, but immediately stopped trying when you felt pain spreading through your bad leg. You sighed with your eyes closed, and decided to try again. You failed, caused by that awful pain. With every try, the pain got worse, and with every try you realized more and more that you needed to get help if you ever wanted to get out of bed again. You grabbed your phone and dialed the first person who came into your mind. Guess who.
'Matthias,' said a voice with a Danish accent through the phone.
Correct! Ten points for you!
'Hey Mat, with [y/n]. I had a skiing accident, as you might have heard from Allistor. And-'
'A skiing accident?' his voice sounded alarmed. 'Is everything okay [y/n]!?'
'About that. My leg hurts that much right now that I can’t get out of bed.'
He was silent for a moment, but then he began to speak with a trembling voice. He probably was amused. 'You can’t get out of bed.'
You heard him grinning, even through the phone.
'Don’t laugh you jerk!' you said irritated. 'It isn't funny!'
Matthias burst out laughing, probably caused by your little outburst.
Mat tried to get his laughing under control, and as a miracle, it worked. 'Sorry [y/n].'
'Damn right you are.' You huffed.
Again a fit of laughter.
'O-okay, sorry again [y/n].' He said, still chuckling.
If you could kill through a phone, he'd probably be dead. 'Just come over here.'
He gave out a small laugh. 'The hero comes to save you!'
'You’re not Alfred.'
'Oh yeah, dudette?’
'Just come and help me, you damn fucking Dane.' You growled.
'I'm comin', I'm comin'! Calm down, love!'
'I will if you would stop being a jerk all the time, jerk. Just come over here!'
With that, you hung up.
TIMESKIP!! Hold on to the Flying Mint Bunny to not get into the wrong time period!! You don't want to get in the Middle-Ages!
You groaned, leaning back onto your bed. He was late.
You were now waiting for about an hour. Why is this so long!?
'I HATE YOU MATTHIAS KOHLER!!' You screamed on top of your lungs.
Then your front door went open. '[Y/N]!?' Matthias bellowed. 'WHERE ARE YOU!?'
'If I said through the phone that I can't get out bed, it practically means that, I'M STILL IN BED!'
'Oh, right,' Matthias dashed up the stairs and stormed into your room. 'Hey [y/n]!' He smirked at you.
'Hello Mark.' You growled. 'You're late.'
Matthias rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, making the back of his head messier than it already was. Seriously, does he even do something at his hair in the morning? 'Sorry,'
You rolled your eyes. 'Excuse accepted. Just help me out you idiot.'
He smiled brightly, and walked towards your bed. Picking you up in bridal-style, he grinned and winked. 'I wouldn't mind carrying you down towards the church.'
You didn't really understand his sentence, but really hoped you didn't blush at his wink. You rolled your eyes again, muttering a small "jerk", crossed your arms and looked away.
I noticed that she didn't blush at my comment neither my wink. Disappointment filled me. I thought she liked me; not only in the way of friendship. Tim, Allistor, Ludwig and Arthur told me. I almost started to blush.
I walked down the stairs and walked towards the living room.
'Tell ya what gurl, I'll make us lunch.' I hoped she would look at me and smile, but instead she just kept looking away and nodded curtly.
I sighed, walking towards her sofa and laying her down. I looked at her for a sec, took a deep breath and walked towards the kitchen to make our lunch.
When he said that he would make you two lunch, you almost smiled. He was sweet and it was a shame he was that a *cough* hot *cough* jerk. No, not a shame. It went with him. He was a bit of a drunk, yes, but he was sweet and funny and loveble and continue, continue, continue.
You decided that you were going to tell him that you loved him soon.
It took long before Denmark came back, but he came back with two big bowls of soup. He placed his one on the table and gave yours to you. You looked at the spoon and gasped, the alfabetic pasta spelled three little words, with a great value:
You smiled, and thought your face was on fire. When you looked up to his face, you noticed that he was beat red.
'Love you too, Matthias.' You said.
He smiled, leaned forward and placed a small kiss on your lips. 'Be my queen?'
You giggled, before placing the bowl of soup on the ground and grabbing him for another kiss. 'Of course, my king.'