A Waltz in the Dark (Norway + OC Hetalia fanfiction)

Chapter 54

    Mary slammed the door to her hotel room and then leaned against the door.
    "No, no, no, no..." she repeated over and over again, putting a hand over her eyes. And then she gave a short shout and kicked the wall as hard as she could. Her foot throbbed, but the pain was nothing to her. She walked further into the room, running her hands through her hair. She winced, grabbing handfuls of her curls and pulling with all her might.
    But no pain could match the pain in her heart.
    Lukas was a liar.
    "Why do I always attract the liars?!" she screamed. She punched the wall and cried out in pain, pulling back her hand and shaking it. Tears began to fill her eyes. She stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor as tears dripped down her face.
    She replayed their fight in her mind, but she got stuck replaying the panic and fear on his face as she exploded. She thought about all he had said and smirked.
    "Maybe he is crazy," she said out loud. "Or maybe I am."
    She pinched her arm, but she didn't wake up.
    And then her cellphone rang. She looked back where it was on her nightstand. The big white letters on the screen spelled out Lukas Bondevik.
    Slowly shaking her head, she turned over and flopped onto her pillow. She clutched it with both hands as she sobbed into it.
    "How could you lie to me?" she sobbed into the white fabric as the phone continued to ring. "And how was I so easily fooled?!" she sighed, trying to regain control of her emotions, but it was a futile attempt. She continued to cry.
    After a few minutes, her tears dried up. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
    "Why is it so darn cold?" she grumbled, sitting up. She pulled the jacket tighter around her, and then winced, closing her eyes.
    She still had his jacket.
    She looked down and frowned.
    White frost laced the end of the jacket's sleeves. Her hands rested in her lap, and white was there, too. She touched it, and sure enough, it was frost.
    Lukas's words echoed in her mind.
    Magic.
    "This is ridiculous," she spat, dusting off her skirt. She stood and went to turn up the heat, anger pulsing through her with every beat of her heart. She touched the thermostat, but frost spread out and covered where her finger landed.
    She screamed, withdrawing her hand. She stared at the thermostat, and then down at her fingers.
    "Nope," she said, shaking her head but keeping her gaze locked on her hands. "Nope. Nope. Nope. This is a joke. Or, there has to be some explanation..." she trailed to silence.
    "But... but this doesn't make sense!" she wailed, dropping her hands. "Magic? Immortality? Personifications, or whatever he is? That's the stuff of stories! I should know! I'm a freakin' author!" she clenched her fingers and began to pace. "None of it can exist! How could it? How could it be real? Wouldn't everyone know about it by now if it was?"
    She sighed, deeply, lifting her hand and staring at it.
    And there was a sudden longing in her heart.
    What if it is real?
    She rubbed her fingers together, but nothing happened.
    It's not completely impossible... there could be multiple explanations...
    She stepped toward the wall and touched it. Frost spread up around her fingers. When she withdrew her hand, watching the fragile ice begin to melt.
    "Okay, okay... so... all right, then..." she said, rubbing her hands together. And then she laughed. "If only Matthias could see this. I really am like Elsa." Her laugh was cut short and she frowned.
    "Matthias... Berwald, Tino, Emil... they must be immortals, too," she whispered, frowning. "They must be... personifications. Of... the Nordic countries?"
    It made sense.
    "No, it doesn't make sense. It's stupid and unrealistic and..."
    But it made sense.
    "I'm losing it, aren't I?" Mary whispered, sitting on her bed again, being careful not to touch anything. "It's just late. Maybe I got drugged at the party. Or maybe this is a dream, maybe I'm already asleep."
    She pinched herself again.
    "Not like that would actually work," she said with a huff, looking around the room. "Maybe I should just sleep. And then when I wake up in the morning, I can figure this all out."
    But she didn't move.
    She thought about Lukas, and for a moment she wondered where he was and how he was. She glanced back at her phone.
    "No," she whispered, pulling her gaze away, "Even if it is true, he lied. He lied and made me believe he was Lukas Bondevik, a Professor from Norway. When really... he... is Norway?"
    The silence that followed was empty and cold.
    She folded her hands together and then looked down at them.
    And then she noticed the black sharpie on her left hand. She looked at the two phone numbers written on it and thought of the society. She imagined all the people she met as personifications. As immortals.
    She thought of Alice and Matthew. Oregon and Canada, if it was true.
    They were nice.
    Mary reached over and grabbed her phone. The notification of a voice message from Lukas popped up, but she closed it. The action made her feel guilty. No, I can't talk to him yet. I need answers first. She dialed the first number on her hand and held the phone to her ear. It rang and rang and then went to voicemail. Mary hung up and tried the second number, Matthew's number.
    "Please, please," she whispered as it rang.