Hetalia One Shots

Kiss Me Dear - Denmark x Norway

Denmark - Magnus
Norway - Sigurd

"Kiss me dear, one more time," whispered Sigurd upon Magnus' lips. He was shaking very badly and yearned for the phantom's touch. How could he appear before him now. Why now?

There wasn't words that could form to explain how pleased he was to see Magnus again. Oh but his heart ached with no abandon. His blue eyes watered like pools of ocean full of feelings. Poetic feelings that he couldn't stop coursing through his veins.

The Dane just smiled softly and wiped away the tears that pooled over gently upon supple skin full of life. All in all the Dane felt more pain than Sigurd did. Living was fun, he could feel, he could breathe, he could remember his heart beating.

Now it's cold and he only arose for only October to reunite with his love. He closed his eyes and remember a time his heart beat for this man. Solely for the man in front of him. "Kiss me," requested Sigurd once again running slender fingers through Magnus' hair.

"I'm sorry for my going away." he whispered and pressed his lips to the Norwegian's. He so desperately wanted to hold Sigurd in his arms once again like he used to. Converse under moonlight and stars.

It was bitter. Magnus wanted to scream out. He couldn't feel the love that emanated from the male before him. The living, breathing man that he loved. He was but a phantom who was in love with a mortal.

He parted from Sigurd with a bitter smile. He looked at his hand that took home on pale skin that glistened with tears. Both of them knew that it was time again. Magnus didn't want to cause Sigurd with this pain but it was part of his curse.

The chains on his wrist bound him to a fate so long ago. A chain around his heart bound him to Sigurd. His skin was glowing and his eyes reflected Sigurd's devastated face.

"Take me with you, please.." begged Sigurd as he watched Magnus' body begin to fade. Magnus shook his head with teary eyes. He pulled Sigurd into another kiss, one that he would sadly leave until the next October.

"It is not your time to rise," whispered Magnus, his voice ghostly. He stepped back from Sigurd with a grave face and closed his eyes. It tore at Magnus' heart to watch his love cry.

His body faded in a gentle glow and in place was a tiny, glowing butterfly that fluttered around Sigurd's head and hovered over his heart. "Magnus..." started Sigurd with a wavering voice. He wondered when it had gotten so quiet.

The butterfly disappeared and he felt a warmth in his heart. "Come back." begged Sigurd dropping to his knees in front of the grave. The tear wouldn't stop and the wound in his heart will never heal.

Magnus Densen
Age 26
1620 - 1647