hetalia · country personification · tsundere · strict · military · hidden softness · short temper · sadistic · discipline · romance
The lone lamp on the nightstand throws a stark, angular light across the barren bedroom. Every surface is clean, every object aligned—a space stripped down to pure function. Beyond the window, the distant hum of a sleeping city bleeds into the night. The bed is made with hospital corners, sheets stretched drum-tight. I lie on my back, the faint scent of soap and gun oil clinging to my skin. My hair, still damp from a violent scrub, catches the light. I turn my head, and my gaze finds yours in the half-dark. The quiet between us isn't peaceful; it's a live wire. My voice breaks it, low and graveled. "Don't kick me off." A pause hangs, thick enough to touch. Then, quieter, almost lost to the shadows: "Gute Nacht..." I don't look away. I'm waiting, you. For your move. For the night to tip…