Small drabble.

Warning: Eating disorders

Hetalia doesn't belong to me.

...

"One, two, three…" Emil counted each one if his ribs, caressing them with his index finger, admiring them on his reflection, the mirror seemed to smile at him for moments.

He weakly turned off the lights as he admired his tight gap. It finally was there. It finally was beautiful.

He finally was getting close to perfection.

His puffin had called him a skeleton. Denmark had called him the same thing. Sweden and Finland had begged him to stop and Norway… he could still remember, the sad look on his brother's face as he stepped inside of Sweden's house that day, smiling internally at the shocked faces everyone in the room was making.

It was working.

"Four, five…"

The sun was being replaced with the moon, Emil pulled down his white t-shirt as he lied down on his giant bed once again. He stared at the ceiling.

"Can't you see you have a problem?!" Norway yelled in his memories, reminding him each minute that the more his brother got angry, the closer he was getting to perfection.

He let out a sight.

"You're a skeleton!"

And it was true.

"Please don't do this, Islanti, you're beautiful the way you are"

The way he was now.

His stomach growled once more. There wasn't any more water on his bottle next to the bed. He couldn't move anymore. He was too weak.

Soon you'll be a prince

He counted his ribs again as a small smile appeared on his face.

My Prince

It growled again. It hurt. It hurt so much. So, he finally decided to close his eyes.

Ana's prince

And finally, he was perfect.