.:Various x Reader-One Shots:.

.:LatviaxReader-My Light:.

//I wrote this a few years ago in response to this one super sad Latvia x reader, so.... If it sucks I'm sorry//

A young man walks towards the train station on this chilly day in October. He shivers in his old clothes that have worn so thin that he an feel the chill deep in his bones. He sighs, his warm breath puffing in the cold air. He's dead tired. He works long hours everyday at an old, scummy factory to make money to put food on the table. Despite his efforts, he still barely makes enough to pay for his train tickets for his commute and for the other necessities he needs to get by.

That young man is me.

Living like this is hardly living at all. I have aches in my bones like those of an old man, even though I'm only twenty. I've worked for the same cold hearted miser for five years. Mr. Braginski works us like dogs. We work in such an unclean, unsafe environment, that just going to work is putting our lives on the line. I don't dare say anything, though. He's fired anyone who has questioned him. But it's a miracle that I have a job at all these days. I need this job, even if I only make such a meager amount each day. It's depressing.

I sit down on the hard concrete bench inside the station that faces the tracks. I lean forward, feeling my muscles strain with the movement, and run my dirt caked fingers through my sweat dampened brown locks. I open my tired eyes and see the brownish puddle between my beaten brown loafers. A tired boy stares back with bluish violet eyes that are ringed with dark circles that make his youthful face appear far older than he truly is. Dirt and grime smudge his almost sickly pale skin.

God, I can't do this much longer!

A person can only survive so long in this dark world without any light. I wring my hands in anger and frustration, feeling my jaw tighten and my teeth grinding with the pressure. All of this is a minor attempt to feel something other than the cold. In doing so, I feel something on my one hand, that makes me stop. I lift my hand, holding it in front of me, and I find myself staring at the object. And I'm taken back to that cold day all those years ago....

~Five Years Ago ~

It hurts.... Everything hurts so much...

I coughed, inwardly groaning since I know that once I start I won't be able to stop. The hard fit sends my body into a trembling, gasping mess as the hacking wracked my slight frame violently. Once the fit ended, I was still shaking from the cold, the pain and the sobs that had taken over my body. Tears streamed down my grimy face, merely joining the rain that was falling in a hard downpour.

I leaned back against the gray stone wall behind me with a tired, ragged sigh. My lungs were burning from the latest coughing episode, making even breathing difficult. My legs ached and my stomach hurt with hunger. The rhythmic drumming of the rain hitting the stones drowned out the droning hum of people conversing on their way home. People who have money and a home and not a single fucking care in the world.

I hate them.

I hate them all!

They've never had to worry about food or money or health. No. All they have to worry about is what color dress they should wear to the next school gala and who's doing who. Are any of them as alone as I am? No! My father had died three months prior in a freak accident at the factory, and my mother was devastated. She couldn't handle it... She committed suicide within a week. Left alone in the world, I had to find a job in order to survive. I stumbled upon Mr. Ivan Braginski's textile factory and applied. I started as a low-level kid who did all the grunt work. I worked eleven hours a day, earning very little money, scarcely enough to do anything with. I rode the train there and back day in and day out. I had no home, no friends, no family.... I was alone in the darkness and the shadows were closing in.