"Will you marry me? Please, (y/n)", the Dane asked with a saddened expression.
It was an early November morning. The smell of wet, crisp air flowed through your nose as the breeze from outside swept through the window and into your hospital room. Your face was getting more and more pale each passing day, and Matthias knew it wouldn't be long before he could no longer admire your breathtaking features. It was a surprise he even wanted to date you, despite the fact you were on your death bed.
"Matthias...," you started, "I love you with everything I have, but...to ask me to marry you? Like this? I couldn't possibly-"
"-I don't care, (y/n)! I want to be with you for as long as I can stand on my own two feet. I don't care what people will say. I don't care that you're not at 100%. So long as you're not below zero, I want to marry you," Matthias interrupted.
His bright blue eyes pierced through your (e/c) orbs like daggers of newly formed ice. The dane's spiked, blond locks were styled to one side of his head in an attempt to make him look cooler than he actually was. To you, he was the biggest dork you've ever met. You used to tease him and call him part of the Nordorks, just to get a reaction out of him for a couple of laughs. Matthias, also known as Denmark, was too kind and caring to hurt a ladybug, and those were just two things you absolutely loved about him.
You let out a sigh, looking out of your window as to think up an answer for the sudden question. But, getting side tracked, you opened your mouth to say something else.
"Matthias," you started, the loyal man awaiting your next sentence, "Will you sing to me? Please? "
You knew he didn't have to best voice in the world, but it still calmed you down in certain situations. He smiled softly at you, taking up your left hand and kissing the top of it ever so gently.
"Shall I sing the usual, min kærlighed?" He asked, placing the back of your hand to his cheek.
You noted at him, still looking out of the window and out towards the white, fluffy snow. As it blissfully fell from the sky, you took deep breaths as your possible fiancé sang to you in a soft tone.
There's a shop down the street
Where they sell plastic rings
For a quarter a piece, I swear it
Yeah, I know that it's cheap
Not like gold in your dreams
But I hope that you'll still wear it
As he sang, you could feel yourself start to drift to sleep. At least, that's what it felt like. The IV that kept you alive was running low on medication, and the beeping of the heart monitor faded in and out of tune with your actual beat. Everything sounded fuzzy, as if you went too high on a plane ride and your ears wouldn't pop. A shake from Matthias kept you awake for a little while longer, his gaze watered over with worry. But still, he sang.
Yeah, the ink may stain my skin
And my jeans may all be ripped
