Freak Wave

Chapter 8

A/N: The idea for this scene popped into my head one day, and I didn't just want to trash the idea (even though I threatened to), so here! This is kind of like a short one-chapter story that happens alongside the main events of this book. This chapter takes place before the storm hits the cruise ship. Thanks, and enjoy this random idea!

Poland loved space. Everything about it. It was huge, and beautiful, and majestic, and mysterious. Unfortunately, she had never been out in it. But one day... one day, that would change.

Unless she accidentally tripped over a bag she left on the floor, banged her head into her dresser, knocked over the bookshelf on top of herself, then slipped and face-planted into her sink. Then she burned herself while making pierogi, impaled herself with a fork, and hit her elbow on the doorframe to the bathroom.

"I hate this suite," Poland spat to herself, limping around her room and trying to clean up the mess. "I was just trying to step back and get a better view of the space poster, but noooooo. I couldn't even make lunch for myself without getting hurt!" Muttering angry words in Polish, she left her suite and found her way to the lunchroom. Hopefully she could order something on the menu without dying.

She saw Germany, sitting by France and a few other members of the EU at a lunch table. He looked up, saw her, and smiled. "Curse you and your adorable face," Poland muttered to herself, walking over and sitting down next to him.

"Are you limping?" Germany asked in a low voice, so the others couldn't hear. "You look hurt. And is that a stab wound on your hand? What happened, are you ok?"

"Perfectly, one-hundred percent fine," Poland said back with a forced smile. "Life just wants to kill me right now, is all."

Germany frowned. "I'll help you bandage you up. You look exhausted already."

"I didn't ask for your help," Poland snapped back. "Anyways, I'm going to go get myself some food." Standing up dramatically, she limped across the room to a digital menu and ordered some pierogi.

When it arrived, she chose a small table in the corner of the room. Was it strange to have a grudge on objects that, through no fault of their own, caused distress to people? And was it strange to be mad at someone who offered to help, especially if you had a crush on that person?

The pierogi didn't taste as good as it would have if Poland had made it herself, but it still managed to lighten her mood. Finishing the last of her lunch, Poland stood up with a yawn. Maybe I'll just go take a nap, she thought to herself.

She dragged her aching body up the stairs and down three different hallways, only stubbing her toes twice and tripping once, and then arrived at her door. But before she could open it and slip inside, she heard her name being called by a familiar accent. She sighed and turned around. "Germany?"

"Hey, I just wanted to make sure you were ok." He said, coming up to her.

"What makes you think I'm not fine?" Poland retorted. Gosh darn it Poland, stop being so rude! This is the person you've fallen for, isn't it? So pull. Yourself. Together! 

"Well, it looks like you stabbed yourself with a fork. You're limping. And I saw you trip on the way up the stairs." Germany stated in his 'I'm a professional so don't contradict me' voice.

"So? Everyone has bad days. Why would you care about mine?"

"Because I care about you."

There was an awkward silence.

"Oh, uh..." say something! "I, uh, I care about you too," Poland replied, stuttering. "Maybe... maybe I'll let you help me out."

"That's wonderful," Germany replied, giving Poland a hug. "And for your information," he added quietly, "I don't think you're a helpless bean that always needs help. You're smart and strong and fierce. I just think that I should be able to help my friend when she is struggling."

Poland felt herself blushing, and quickly stepped out of the hug. "I'm sorry for overreacting. I'm not used to getting help when I need it."

"Well, I'm here to help," Germany replied. "Now let's get your battle wounds taken care of."

A/N: So, I don't often write in 3rd person, and this was really weird for me to do. I kept accidentally switching to 1st person for Poland, and I had to go back and edit. Lol. It was interesting to do a piece where Poland reveals her thoughts about how others view her. I might choose to do something similar with other countries, should inspiration ever decide to strike me with a lightning bolt.

Also, I feel ridiculously proud of this thing that I wrote in twenty minutes of spare time supposed to be used for weekend homework.

Word Count: 809