'ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ' || ʜᴇᴛᴀʟɪᴀ

13

Iceland blinked hard. "Did I miss something?"

Denmark and Norway had walked back into the house at almost 6pm, holding hands. Emil had almost choked on his coffee. Of course, they'd almost instantly let go when they remembered that they weren't alone, thinking that maybe Emil had seen nothing, but they were very, very wrong.

"Miss what, Ice?" Mathias asked, trying not to glance at Lukas as the Norwegian calmly and quietly walked out of the room and away from being accused of anything, like a sly fox.

"You two . . . Are you . . . ?"

Denmark said nothing.

"Oh my cod . . . That's so gross!" Emil exclaimed, eyes wide. "First Ber and Fin, now you two?! You guys are actually disgusting!"

"Hey, that's unfair!" Mathias retorted. "We don't complain when your so-called 'friend' comes over every other weekend," he said, making quotation marks with him hands, raising an accusing eyebrow.

"LEON IS JUST A FRIEND!" Emil yelled back. "THAT'S DIFFERENT!"

"Yeah, until you two start making out on your bed--"

"What's with all the noise?" Finland asked, coming down the stairs, his face carrying a baffled look. He looked at the two arguing Nordics, and lightly sighed. "Rule Eight of this house is?"

Denmark and Iceland glared at each other. "No fighting or arguing," they answered in unison.

"Good," Tino smiled. "So what do you need to say to each other?"

"You first," Mathias said.

"No, you!" Emil scorned. "You started it!"

"That's such a lie!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Brother-fucker!"

"Cock-sucker!"

"Tip-licker!"

"AT LEAST I'M NOT THE BOTTOM!"

Emil became instantly flustered, his cheeks becoming as coloured at a beetroot, and the only way he could think to respond was to flip Mathias off and retreat upstairs, shoving past Tino, and slamming his bedroom door. Finland winced at the sound, and his head slowly turned back to look at Mathias. 

The Dane braced himself.

<><><>

After about ten minutes of being screamed at by Tino and spotting Berwald disapprovingly shaking his head at the top of the stairs, Mathias was finally left alone. Well, that was a lie. He left them, and decided that perhaps he needed more fresh air. He'd apologise later, when Emil wanted to apologise too.

He was back out on the boardwalk. He sat cross-legged at the end of it, a much cooler breeze gently ruffling his wild hair. As he was quietly perched there, he felt a familiar sensation creep up on him that made him audibly groan, and he had to stop himself for making it a scream. 

Mathias pressed two fingers to the side of his head, and clenched his jaw. "Don't want to leave me alone for more than a hour, huh? Fuck . . . I blame Fin . . ." he seethed.

With a sigh, he let his hand drop into his lap, and let his head hang low. He regretted lying to the others, but then, he hadn't wanted to worry them. Tino and Lukas had gotten better; their ailments were alleviating and it seemed that within a couple days, they'd be back to normal. 

But not Mathias. 

The migraine that had manifested in his skull had never left him, but he still told the others that it had gone and that he, too, was fine. The last thing he wanted for the the other Nordics to freak out if they ever found out he was still suffering. He didn't want to be fussed over, he didn't want to be pitied, he didn't want people to look at him, unable to help, as if he was some animal in a circus ring.