Hetalia Deaths

Matthias Køhler (Denmark)

This theorh was made by fanfiction's InferoxPhoenix

Matthias Køhler was the an alcoholic, the son of two abusive parents. It explains Denmark's arrogant attitude and affinity for alcohol.

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"Oi, Matt," Whoever it was, the voice was faint.

Matthias groaned.

"Matt! Wake up, man. You've got class in an hour." His roommate. That had to be it.

The second he opened his eyes to confirm that it was, in fact, the man who he was thinking of, he regretted it. Every ounce of light in the room scrambled at him, stabbing through his pupils with startling speed. And pain. He clutched at his head, his body curling in on itself.

"Go take a cold shower. Looks like you drank too much again. If you're gonna do it, at least make sure someone's around. " Matthias heard some rustling as his roommate, a man named Jacob, looked or something. "You really gotta quit that habit, you know. You'll drink yourself to death."

"God, just shut up for once, Jacob." His voice was a little harsher than he meant for it to be.

"Fine, fine. They're your own choices. Have fun with that headache." Jacob called as a parting sentiment, closing their door with his foot a little more force than was necessary.

"Ass," Matthias mumbled as he tried, slowly, opening his eyes again. The light wasn't quite as bright, and the pain not as intense, but it wasn't going to be a fun morning for him, to say the very least.

He tried for at least ten minutes to drag himself out of bed, failing miserably the first time, his legs tangled up in the bed sheets. Would it kill the university to put a little more padding in the carpets? There was nothing but plywood underneath the carpets. Matthias hadn't had the fortune of finding that out before in all of his hung-over mornings before. This was a first. Whoo.

When he finally managed to get himself situated on two feet, the three meters to the bathroom seemed to be a ridiculously far away distance. Blinking rapidly, and his hand grasping at the wall for support, he slowly made his way to the door, stumbling along the way. When he finally reached his destination, and flicked on the light switch, he immediately wanted to reverse his decision.

The three, small white bulbs over the sink exploded into life, flooding the space with light that seemed to pierce straight through his head. The cold light was even worse than the sunlight was, and it sent Matthias tumbling. His feet caught, once again, on his discarded sheets, and he found himself, once again, on the floor.

He simply let out a sound that caught in his throat, coming out in a bit of an exasperated squeak. He then sighed, giving up and laying limp on the floor. God, I need a drink. That common thought ran through his head again. Alcohol was on his mind constantly, as if it was a track stuck on repeat. Over and over and over again. Day or night, it didn't matter when, and it certainly didn't matter where.

Still incapacitated, his hand fumbled around, skimming over the floor in search of a leftover bottle from last night. There had to be one. Pulling it from a haze, he remembered passing out before finishing that bottle of vodka.

Regardless, he found nothing. Cursing to himself rather violently, slamming his fist against the floor, he placed blame of Jacob. He could give a shit if his roommate meant well. Matthias needed alcohol, and it was rude to take others' property anyway.

Struggling to will his muscles to move, he shakily stood up again, shoulder immediately falling to the bathroom doorframe for support. A heavy hand reached up and dragged its way down his face, his long fingers lingering at the bridge of his nose. By the time he came to again, he found himself staring at the bathroom mirror from his position at the door jam.