The Dysfunctional Family Of Europe (Reader x Yugotalia)

Ch.17 Melancholic Melody

It took a while to get Slovenia back to his own room, but as soon as he did he flopped on his bed and fell asleep, didn't even bother to get out of his clothes. But speaking of clothes...this outfit is uncomfortable after wearing it all day and falling asleep in it. So once I got back to my room, I changed over into a t-shirt and some shorts that I could wear around the house, looking myself in the mirror.

"Scratch that...I should wear a bra too right? Ah...Nobody else is up, it's fine."I mumbled before walking out to the kitchen, as it smelt like soup and I needed something warm in my gullet sooner or later. There were three bowls on the counter with some plastic wrap over them, and a note next to that.

"To those who have yet to wake up from their slumber." That seems about accurate, and I suppose it's Macedonia's handwriting, which is a little sloppy but legible. I took one of the bowls and tried to place it into the microwave to heat it up, when the radio up on the counter started to play a little song. I hadn't heard of it before but upon hearing it...for some reason...it made me a little sad.

It was a little grainy, but I could hear it pretty clearly over the insanely loud microwave. Just listening to the tune made me think of being back home...

———

'Another morning in my new nation! Because we are newly born, there is a lot of controversy over my very existence, as a lot of people feel like we shouldn't be a country. I just want to be neutral, because world tensions are so high it worries me...

When my eyes flutter open in the morning, they are met by a cream ceiling that's bumpy like the hills in my nation, but more clustered together. The building I reside in his historic, so I have to do my best to preserve it best I can. The thin white curtains are always swaying a little from the light breezes that sweep through the area.

When I get out of my bed my nightgown flows in unison with my swinging arms, as I walk up to the balcony. Pride always fills my chest when I look over the town. Those brown roofs...The people just getting up and opening their windows, the deep breaths of fresh air they take...I worked so hard for all of it.

I would normally smile and then go get dressed in my country's military uniform, which was a pure white with dark green accents. The women where skirts but it's not mandatory by any means, even though I wear one anyway. Last goes on the hat, it's small, so I wear it slanted.

Living in my country is like a dreamland for me...everything is always going so great but I have to admit it is a little lonely here by myself. Due to my neutrality and my apparent isolationism, I don't talk to many other nations unless I am trading with them, but even then they don't want to make any small talk.

I walk down to the living room and see all of the mail piled at the front door. Now the trembling starts. "I'll go outside today..."I'll mumble, heading into the kitchen to avoid the inevitable. Make some breakfast to get my mind off of it. My wrist will feel sore after only two whisks of making some scrambled eggs, just adding to the humiliation. But at least it is in the privacy of my own home.

I feel like the pile of letters are staring at me. They are like a nest of wasps just coming to sting me to death. Eventually I make my breakfast and sit down on the couch to eat, sweating profoundly now. The only sound I can hear is the gentle breeze that will sweep through my house. And the faint radio coming from outside, a song I would hum to myself.