Fifty Red Roses (MexiSlo Hetalia fanfiction) #Wattys2018

Fifty Red Roses

Janez sat down in front of the grave, even though the ground was freezing. He couldn't care less about that at the moment, honestly speaking.

"Hi," he spoke to the gravestone.

It didn't answer.

Of course it didn't. It was a stone with a name and dates on it.

He looked towards the entrance of the graveyard. Hector, who let him on the property, was now also standing guard.

Janez belonged to a different family. A rival one. It wouldn't be safe for him if he was alone.

He turned back on the stone and muttered: "I have fifty red roses, one for everything I miss about you."

He took the first one from the bouquet.

"Your smile," he said quietly.

"Remember when we first met? I just finished the academy back then, moved out away from Roderich and Erszebet and thought I could forget the past.

You were there in a bar, I guess on duty now that I think about it ... Maybe you seemed suspicious."

Jan shrugged.

"Something on you definitely caught my eye. And you got up and bought me a drink, I didn't smile much but you did for the both of us. You made it seem so easy, when it's not really.

And then after we started living together, the first thing I saw each day was your smile. And I got used to it.

I smiled back, and I kept smiling and laughing with you. I miss those days when being happy was the easy thing to do."

He set the rose on the grave and took the second one.

"Your laugh," he began.

"It was so contagious, Ale, you can't imagine. Just like smiling, I didn't laugh much either.

But with you, it seemed so easy.

I don't remember when you laughed first, you laughed all the time. Or giggled. Or chuckled, snickered or snorted. It depended on the occasion.

I wish I had something to laugh about now. This way, you wouldn't have to watch me returning back to the emotionless man I was before."

For a moment, his eyes rested on the flower in his hands, while he blinked away the tears.

He set the second rose on the grave and took the next.

"The third one," he took the flower into his hand. "... Your voice."

A single tear fell down his cheek, followed by others. He couldn't even hear well and he was slowly forgetting how Ale's voice sounded. How could he claim to miss his voice?

He continued anyway. "I miss you talking, about anything really. You could make anything sound interesting, and your voice was so calming.

I wish I could talk with you now, that it wouldn't be just a one-sided conversation. I wish you could answer.

Ale I miss talking with you so much, you can't imagine."

The third rose was set down to the ground.

He took the fourth.

"Your singing."

His lips gently touched the petals.