The Fake Smile He Wears

Chapter 16

Just wanna thanks y'all for the 1000 reads once more! Thanks you guys so much for staying with this story. It's been quite a journey for me. Life's been throwing lots of lemons at me, and I'm in a bit of bad mood as of lately, so my motivation to write has been a bit low, but you guys have always been here waiting for me, and I just feel more happy just seeing you guys enjoy this story. I feel the energy to continue on and on, even through the tough times, so thank you guys! If you guys need to ever talk about anything, I'm always here for you, even if I'm a bit late to respond, I'll always respond. So, please tell me if something's wrong, I'll never judge you for your actions or words, we're all humans, and we make mistakes. We're all in this ride together, and you guys made it an easier ride for me. Thanks once again! (Sorry if it seems repetitive) This is a longer chapter, since I had Friday off (whoop whoop). Hope you guys enjoy this special long chapter! Now onto the story!
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"Um, I know that it's really awkward, and all, but I think it would be good, if we could talk. I'm not really sure what to talk about though. Ummm. Uhhhh. Hmmmmm." America rambled. He blanked out, that's great, of all the times he could've blanked out, he choose now. Wow. Life must really like to embarrass him. Though this isn't the first time It was a habit he had, whenever he got nervous. A bad habit at times. Why did he even talk? He doesn't even know what to say anyways. He's brain was already in overdrive as it is, he doesn't need to send his overworking brain into a frenzy. Calm down. Breathe. 1. 2. 3. Okay. Think. What's an easy topic to talk about? Food, maybe? No, that's not much to talk about. Maybe, hobbies? That's a great idea. He felt proud for accomplishing something.

"Um, what are some of your hobbies?" America awkwardly uttered out. He began to scratch the back of his neck, another habit he had when he was nervous. He really needed to break these habits, they're probably going to get him in trouble someday. Sometimes he was either too easy to read or too hard to read. There's a lot of broken pieces he has to fix. Who knows how long it'll take? Even, with the help of everyone else, it'll still take quite awhile. There weren't many entries or memories left. Well that should be a good thing. He had too many secrets to hide. Way too many. He's got even darker secrets, he may be only about 2 centuries old or so, but he's experienced quite a lot. Being immortal has it's many downfalls. To this day he still wonders, why humanity wanted immortality so badly. What was so good about immortality? It's just a pretty lie. There is nothing that good about. A pretty lie, humans have been told. Who wants to see, everyone around them die? Who wants to be forced to dirty their hands? Who wants to live forever? Humans that's what. They never understood the full reality of immortality. If they did than, very few would chase immortality. Humans are just scared of the concept called death. That's all. They don't want to die, even though they don't realize that being immortal is more painful than dying. They don't understand the agonizing pain of knowing, you'll never have an end. He's lucky. He will have an end, no matter how long it takes to reach it, he will. Yao's a living example of the toll of living so long. His mind and body were etched with scars, and terrors, that can never be unseen. He went extremely off topic, again. Stupid philosophical ass mind. Good thing Berwald hasn't said anything yet. Berwald seemed to be stuck in deep thought just like him. He looked around the room and realized that everyone left. It was just him and Berwald. Holy crap, now it's going to be really awkward, that's great. Whoop, whoop! Yeah, right, as if. It seemed that the both of them were back to reality.

"I like to carve wood, into toys, and other things. I like card games, and um board games. Sometimes, I help out with the garden Tino has. I also like to have debates, it doesn't really matter what the topic is for me. Other than that, I just read most of the time. What about you?" Sweden said in an extremely quiet voice. Barely above a whisper. He was nervous, really nervous, and with a bad habit of talking quietly, the two combined and made him talk even quieter. He thought that wasn't possible. But, gladly, Alfred could hear. If he couldn't, that would've been an embarrassment. Alfred looked like he was pondering. Alfred seemed to do that a lot. He must be a really hard thinker. He must overthink quite a lot. Alfred had an unreadable expression on his face. Did he say something wrong? Did he do something wrong? Was he too straightforward? Was he too quiet? Did Alfred hate him? Was his face too scary? What is wrong with me? Did I do something wrong? Did I even do anything wrong? Calm down Berwald. You're a country. You've been through worse than this. Think straight. Think carefully. Don't overthink things. Everything will be okay. Right? Nothing ever goes right for him, why did he even think that? He's seen enough things go wrong in his life, so many things fell apart, right in front of his eyes. Look at the Kalmar Union, it fell apart. He didn't even try to keep everyone together, all he did was watch the union fall apart, as everyone argued and argued over everything. He was the one that caused the union to fall. He rebelled. He destroyed their family. He was the one who caused the downfall. He started the crack in his family. After that everything began to worsen. Everyone began to get angry at each other. And everything was a mess. He just couldn't take it anymore. The arguing, all the things he couldn't do. So he rebelled against the union. He didn't realize what he did. He broke up the family, it would be awhile before they would be a family again. They had to fight against each other time and time again. He fought Mathias, so many times he honestly lost count. It was hard fighting against his own family, but he had to do it for his people. Alfred had to do the same thing, time, and time again. He fought his own siblings multiple times, his father figure multiple times, he even killed his own brother for his people. All of it was for his people. Alfred was a selfless man, even if he denies. Alfred did things he couldn't do, and that made him proud of Alfred. But, how can he convey that? How?