'ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴏʙᴀʟ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴀʟ' || ʜᴇᴛᴀʟɪᴀ

5

In the garden...

The break commenced. Matthew decided that perhaps getting some fresh air was a good idea, so at the same time, he could try and not freak out over what was yet to be read. It was a private journal, and reading from it felt so invasive and rude... Canada — unbeknownst to almost everyone — had two such journals of his own, however. One contained more mundane things and what he classed as 'my average day', and the other had a lot less in terms of content, but the detail and emotion of it was so much more intense. If the first one had been discovered by whoever had the guts to go around and pry into people's private business, then Matthew wouldn't mind too much. Everyone else was experiencing the same. But he couldn't help but worry that the second journal had been uncovered, despite its extremely secure and secret hiding place.

It was bright outside, the midday sun beating down with a warmth that Matthew liked to make the most of when he could. He was so used to the snow. Everyone else was inside the building, either talking among themselves, consoling each other, or sorting out refreshments (though, given that Italy and Germany were doing that, it was questionable how much would actually get done if they were busy with each other instead...). The sweet scent of flowers drifted through the air.

"I personally think roses are very boring flowers."

Matthew turned to his new peer. "Why's that?"

"They're popular." Arthur replied. He sat down on the bench next to the Canadian. "For me, roses are just too widely used to have any real meaning. Valentine's Day, funerals, birthdays, congratulatory occasions, gravestones... I almost find it distasteful. If I were given a bouquet of lilies, then I'd be happy."

"So why do you grow them here?" Matthew asked. "If you don't like them, what's the purpose? Surely growing clematis plants or tulips would be more your style, right?"

"My personal garden is overflowing with all sorts of flowers... But here, I like to think that the roses can be used for all occasions without me needing to complain. They smell nice, and thus relax you. They look pretty, and make you smile. They're covered in thorns, so you have some means of defence against overly clingy Frenchmen who never shut the bloody hell up."

"I see." Canada smiled meekly. "So... Why'd you come out here?"

"To make sure you're alright. I know you're normally quiet, but I feel like there's reason today..." Arthur mused. "Are you worried? About... You know..."

"Yeah, well, that'll no doubt be revealed in due course." Matthew sighed. The break was almost over, and he was dreading walking back into that room for his secrets to be spilled along with his tears.

"Well... I suppose they were going to find out eventually."

"Arthur, please-"

"Look, I know you don't want to tell them. I didn't want to talk about my incident in London from all those years ago, but I did. What you went through was different, but at the same time, it wasn't... I'm sorry, Matthew, but you can't keep hiding it... He'll find out eventually." Arthur said. He stood up once more, glancing at his watch. "Three minutes and it's time for part two. Are you coming?"

Matthew let out a sigh and stood up, nodding. He had always known that his secret would never stay one. If the people behind the journals hadn't done something, then he was sure that Arthur would've accidentally said something at the wrong time in front of the wrong people. Matthew just wanted to protect his brother. Was that too much to ask?

...the kitchen...

"I made some little cakes for everyone. I hope that's OK!"