The evening was dull, the birds were quiet as Romania wondered the streets of his boyfriends country, tears silently running down his face. Bulgaria had always been clumsy, he would even occasionally fall over when standing still, but neither country had even imagined he would have such a serious accident. Romania, a normally cheerful and naive person, was now trapped in a prison made of his own regret. It was at night and Bulgaria had told Romania that he was going out. There was nothing wrong it, but as soon as Bulgaria had walked outside and started crossing the road, a car smashed into his side, and he let out a pained yell as Romania rushed out of the house, only to see Bulgaria lying on the cold road, blood pouring down the side of his head and his eyes fixed open, glazed open with no life in them. Romania couldn't bear it. He fell to his knees and sobbed, for how long he didn't know, but when the ambulance arrived, it was no use. He was announced dead and 11:34 that night.
