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Northern Waters	By : Domina_Ecca Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1538 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia - Axis Powers and I'm not making profit off of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
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Ludwig pushed himself downwards. Both into a creeping stance as well as into a mentally shielded position.
A week ago he had realized that it would be necessary for him to leave. Since he hadn’t been quiet healed enough to do so, however, he had tried to push the thought back. To buy time. In that time he had been speaking more and more with Berwald, joking and laughing as though they had been friends for ages. He also had started teaching him how to read in German. He was picking it up fast, faster than Ludwig had expected, but there was no more time. He had to leave, somehow that seemed sickeningly clear to him. The place he had tried to keep it in the back of his mind was now bitter, and the taste was beginning to bleed into everything else.
The previous morning, Berwald had smiled at him in greeting, even as tired as he was, and although it made him want to grin back stupidly in response, the bitterness made his heart wrench instead. He tried to hide the sickness that was brought on by the thought of leaving, but that night when he awoke, the Swede, although asleep, seemed to sense that he was upset, and he searched for his hand in order to pat it and then to his surprise, he held it. It was in that moment that Ludwig realized he truly never wanted to leave. He wanted to stay with Berwald, here, in this house, in this magnificent country. But, there was nothing to do about it. He couldn’t stay; he just couldn’t. He pulled his hand free of Berwald’s.
He felt his mind falling back to the old training methods, the kind for when he was heading to battle. He forgot the grander scheme of things, he ignored his personal views on whatever he was doing, and most importantly, he narrowed his thinking to simple, objective-based thoughts.
Get to the bedroom door.
His body obeyed, slow and steady, crawling forward, low to the ground, and moving out of the slightly opened door. He was well enough to move without the crutch most places, but he had purposely set it near the front door earlier that day. He would need it later.
He reached the door and pushed it the rest of the way opened. It didn’t creak; Berwald kept all the hinges in the house meticulously oiled. Fighting his mind for control, he chose not try to indulge or acknowledge the fact that he appreciated someone taking so much care of their house. He moved with his back facing the larger man still sleeping on the bed, but as he turned when he slid out the door, he caught a glimpse of his platinum hair shimmering like pale gold in the moonlight from the window. He bit his cheek until it bled and focused on his next task.
Get jacket.
Even when he was out of the room, he remained in his low stance as he moved down the hallway next to the wall, remembering which parts of the hall creaked, and carefully avoiding them. Once he was out of the hallway, he cautiously rose until he stood nearly at full height. He kept his knees bent, more of a habit than anything else. He spotted his jacket from where he had left it draped over the couch and moved slowly to get it. His boots sounded incredibly loud on the wood floor, but he was certain it was just his heightened hearing. He would just move slower. A year seemed to pass from the time he carefully removed his jacket from the couch’s possession to the time he switched to his last task.
Get to the front door.
He turned and began towards the door, but he felt it happened too fast, and suddenly he was standing at the door, his fingers frozen to the cold doorknob, the wooden crutch securely under his arm now.
He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t let himself think. Not now. Not when he was so close…
“Ludwig?” if his muscles hadn’t been so tense already, he might have screamed.
Instead, somehow, everything in his body countered everything else, and he held absolutely still except for the slight, instinctive twitch in his neck that allowed him to turn his head just enough to Berwald standing in the opening of the hallway, his hand on the wall for balance as he staggered out of sleep.
He stared back, even as the terror changed from a sharp, stabbing sensation to a dull, painfully binding feeling. There was nothing he could think to say.
“Ya leavin’?” he rasped after a moment.
He simply stared, uncertain he could have gotten his voice to work even if he had thought of something to respond with.
“It’s okay. You can go. I won’t stop ya,” he said when he didn’t answer him, whispering as if it would be considered rude to speak at full volume, even though they were the only ones in the house.
Ludwig couldn’t blink. Berwald would let him go. Of course he would. Gentle Berwald…
Yet, his military mind tugged him harshly. That was enough. He grunted with something like a nod, and in a single, nearly panicky motion, he unlocked the door, opened it, and moved over the threshold, shutting the door behind him harder than he’d meant to.
- 6
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Northern Waters