Cinnamon and Escapades (Finland x Fem! Reader)

Cinnamon and Escapades (Finland x Fem!Reader)

Sometimes, you wondered if love was just a surrogate for some other, masked feeling. After all, how could something so famous, so empowered, leave you feeling so hollow?

You blindly fumbled around, searching desperately, until your hands sourced your only means of comfort, your only thread of life.

His sweater.

You knew it sounded stupid, but you didn't care. Ever since he left, there was nothing but a breathless sense of emptiness, an unbearable, searing void in your chest that couldn't be filled. You wasted every day filing through your sorrows and trying to build yourself up, only to feel yourself crumble and shatter all over again in a despondent cycle. You would often wake in the night with saturated cheeks and trembling hands that were still tightly grasping the garment, without the intention of ever letting go. You couldn't lose a part of him. You couldn't lose the only part of him you had left.

You were a gentle being, one with soft eyes, a kind smile, and a generous nature. To see you in such an uncharacteristic state was distilling to the other nations, especially after this had happened to you, such an undeserving soul. When the war had come and gone, they had given you space. But as it had filtered away, it had torn thousands of pieces out of place and leaving only an insolvable puzzle, one that you could never hope to rebuild, and a key part, an irreplaceable, essential part, was missing.

Tino.

And all the previous fervour with which you spoke, the light in your eyes, the dimples at the corner of your mouth when you laughed, were missing with him.

They were worried for you, the other Nordics perhaps the most so. Though they themselves ached from the desolation of Finland, the impact it had taken on you was painful to watch when they could do nothing but stand by. They had been to see the Finnish nation in the hospital, but his condition was steadily worsening, and it seemed as though he was just slipping deeper and deeper into his coma. Hope was dwindling, and morale was low. He had been in the condition for years, or months, or days; you couldn't remember. Aid was flooding in from nations everywhere to try and revive Finland- to rebuild industry and economy and the lives of the citizens that had lost everything. Despite these efforts, the state of the representation did not improve.

You had lost hope.

Contact was something you had neglected up until this point, refusing to see anyone, and they had concluded that it would was time to breach your barriers of isolation and bring you back into the world.

So there they were, on your doorstep.

"(Name)," Emil tried. "(Name), open up...please."

No light shone through the drawn blinds. The darkness was an interim companion, one that you somehow found condolence in. You were lying on your back, sprawled across the sofa and clad in Tino's sweater. The fabric was soft and nostalgic to touch, and feeling its heat engulfing you, though it was perhaps overly large for your  body, brought back memories of the one you loved devotedly. It dripped with his familiar scent and it invaded your senses, evoking memories that you almost wanted to forget.

You could feel his altruistic arms around you, his hands rubbing small circles on your back, his soft aroma of hot chocolate; you could feel it all.  The mornings that would ebb away as the two of you basked in the sweet bliss of each other's presence; the cold afternoons that would slowly seep into cloudless evenings within no time at all, where the two of you would gaze at the field blooming with endless stars; your endless escapades together in dreams that could still become realities; the incomparable taste of his lips- a mild cinnamon entwined with a warmth that only came from him...

His essence, his love, his everything was in this one piece of material. It was worn, but that was because he knew you loved it so, and he would do anything on earth to see you smile, and you would have done the same for him.

Mathias gave the door another frustrated shove, shouting for you to unearth yourself.

"Please kære!"

"(Name), rakas!" A melodic chime of his voice, the sweetest yet most heart-wrenching song you'd ever heard. A single utter of your name and you were enslaved by him, by his eyes and by his smooth tones, but there was never such a willing servant as you .

"(Name). (Name)! Open up!"

"Come with me, my darling...We can be together for all of eternity..." His hand clasped yours in a promise, a promise he would eventually never keep; a promise that splintered and bled out when the soldiers came.

Your eyes twitched beneath their lids, and with a heave of your chest they opened.

"(Name)...."

"(Name)...."

Berwald's deep voice rumbled through the air and to your ears. You eventually shifted, slowly rising to your feet as your legs trembled. You steadied yourself on the arm of the couch and slowly shuffled forward towards the door, feet dragging along the patterned carpet. Hearing the movement, the remaining Nordics were silent until the lock clicked and the door opened with a prolonged creak. As soon as a mere fraction of you was within view, Mathias lurched forward and latched himself onto your smaller, frailer form with vigour.

"(Name)! We were so worried about you!" He pulled back to catch a glimpse of your features.

You were almost unfamiliar. Your eyes were dulling, rimmed with red and lack of sleep. An unhealthy flush adorned your cheeks, contrast to your pale lips and irises. Your body was thinner, attenuated, proving you hadn't been eating too well. You felt like porcelain, like you were breakable. However, one can not break what has already been broken.

Mathias reached up to grasp your cheeks in his gloved hands. It was only then that you realised it had been snowing. Vegetation was tinted with frost, the trees old and bare and silver. The clear air nipped at your exposed skin, prickling over your flesh and exhibiting your breath in wisps.

Tino's sweater, however, kept you warm, just like he had.

A sharp pain ran through your chest.

Tino had always loved the snow.

***

Eventually, the five of you found yourselves inside, the Nordics having been beckoned into your home with silent invitation. They quickly surveyed the house; it was just how Tino had left it years or months or days ago. The only thing that had changed was the mood of the house. It was dark, and dull, and lifeless. Before they had time to register anything else, you disappeared into the living room, so they followed. You stopped in the middle of the room, and without facing them you asked, "Would you like some hot chocolate?" Your voice was scratchy and came out in a low croak; it nearly startled the Nordic four.

They all gave slow hums of 'ja', and without another word you melted off into the kitchen. The beverage took a while to make, as your inexperienced hands fumbled and spilt. You eventually emerged with mugs of steaming liquid and burnt hands and gave each Nordic their respective cup. On the whole- with the exception of Mathias- they thanked you quietly and took polite sips.

"...(Name), are you okay?" Norway eyed you, his gaze focusing on your scalded hands. You dipped your head in reply.

"Fine..." you responded shortly.

"No you're not...." His voice still maintained its lack of emotion as he set his mug on the coffee table and journeyed over to you to examine your hand. You recoiled at his touch.

"Rakas, you're hurt! Let me help you!" Tino's soft fingers nimbly caressed your bruising arm, his smouldering lilac orbs meeting your own.

"I'm okay Tino..." You let the rest of your sentence meld away into the air as a small smile overtook your lips, before they brushed affectionately against his soft hair.

'I'm always okay when you're with me.'

When you opened your eyes again, tears leaked down your cheeks. You met the startled gaze of Lukas, whose hands were frozen on your own. Your lip quivered and you let out a melancholy sound, before it gave way to sobs. Lukas immediately took your mug, putting it off to the side and embracing you.

"It hurts Lukas!" Your voice shook violently with your body as your arms blindly wrapped themselves around his neck in a desperate attempt to find comfort. He sensed you weren't talking about the burn.

"I know (Name)...." The Norwegian rubbed your back, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he held you closer.

"I know."

***

You spent the rest of that afternoon sleeping on Berwald's chest. The large nation absentmindedly let his fingers weave themselves into your hair in a brotherly gesture as you snoozed quietly in his lap. They had noticed you were a lot calmer after you had adjusted to their presence, and they figured that some company was all you had really needed all along.

Well, company and Tino.

That, and for the first time in seemingly years you didn't have nightmares. You slept peacefully on your makeshift bed, stirring only every once in a while.

"..... I hope (Name)'ll be okay..." Mathias said, breaking the silence. Emil glanced over at him.

"We all do."

"I think all she needs is someone to be there for her." Berwald gave a small grunt in agreement and continued stroking your locks.

"She's just lonely...." He looked down at you with a masked feeling of understanding.  The others nodded, then there was a short pause.

"....It's getting late...." Norway mumbled, his eyes tracing the movements of the clock across the room.

"Ja...Should we wake her..?"

Berwald gave a little sigh and shook your shoulder.

"Mmngh...." Your eyes opened and you blinked groggily. The Swede stifled a smile.

"Sleep well, kære?" Mathias chuckled and plopped down beside you, almost landing on Berwald. You gave a little nod and rubbed your eyes.

"Watch out you idiot Dane, you almost crushed Su-san." Lukas scowled.

Mathias laughed boldly. "Oh, sorry Susan!"

Berwald growled. A little giggle left your throat and you cuddled closer to the Swede. He blinked vaguely, his only visual evidence of surprise, but he patted your head gently.

Mathias pouted and shifted himself. "Why don't I get a hug?!" He flopped himself on top of you (and Sweden) and buried his face in your neck. You squeaked, and Berwald let out a grunt.

"What the hell have you been eating?" he grumbled.

Denmark laughed again. "Not your food that's for sure!"

"Idiot Dane!" Lukas fumed and stomped over to him, intending to strangle Mathias. Mathias deflected him completely and pulled him down on top of him.

"Group hug! Come on over here Icey!" Denmark grinned, ignoring Norway's cries, your little squeaks of protest, and the cracks of Berwald's ribs breaking.

"Yeah, no thanks," he said bluntly.

"Emil, as your big brother I order you to come over here and help me," Lukas commanded.

Iceland refused. Mr Puffin perked up and promptly flew over to the pile of Nordics.

"Mr Puffin! What are you doing?" Emil rose to his feet and approached the bird. "Don't go near Mathias! You know he locked you in a cupboard last week!"

When he was near enough, Berwald grabbed the Icelander and pulled him in from the side. "Just come here," he mumbled. You found yourself surrounded by the four, squashed between Sweden and Denmark. After a bit of squabbling, they all just gave up.

"This is the longest time we've ever hugged," Lukas said stiffly. Mathias smiled and snuggled closer to your form.

"It's not so bad~!" You rested your head on his shoulder and gave a small smile.

"Thank you...." you chimed softly. The four looked at you.

".....That's what family are for kære~"

Lukas patted your head awkwardly. "Ja..."

After a few more moments of embracing, you all silently dispersed.

"We should really be going...." There was a trace of guilt in the Norwegian's voice, but you brushed it off.

"I understand." You smiled gently and gave each individual a hug.

"We'll come see you again tomorrow kære!" Mathias grinned, and the others nodded.

You smiled the first real smile you had in months. "I look forward to it..." They smiled back.

".....You guys do know I keep a key under the plant pot outside, right?"

"What?!"

You let out a laugh. "See you guys tomorrow~"

They grumbled a little as they left but waved all the same. You went to the door to see them off, and when you closed the door you let out a slow sigh.

That night, you showered, made dinner, and watched one of Tino's favourite Christmas movies in your pyjamas with his sweater over the top. You went to bed with a smile on your face.

***

You awoke to muffled voices coming from downstairs. You let out a small groan and slipped out from under your sheets, figuring Mathias or someone else had forgotten something or that you'd left the television on. You stumbled downstairs and peeked your head around the doorframe to the living room. Across the screen of the television was an obnoxiously coloured banner.

'Finnish economy improving drastically; over three million rehoused and government re-established'

You blinked slowly and went to turn it off, pushing down the emotion threatening to build in your chest. You breathed deeply and turned around, reentering the hallway. A click of the lock made you freeze in your tracks.

The door creaked open, and you backed into the bannister, watching in anticipation as your heart thrummed erratically. "Mathias...? Lukas...?"

A head peeked around the door, and you could hear a hand feeling along the wall for the light switched. When the light flickered on and your regained your vision, your heart stopped.

"Rakas...."