Finland wakes up as he does every morning, in Sweden's strong, reassuring arms, his body pressed against the other nation's familiar warmth. They fit together well, as smoothly as the shared border of the countries they represent. He smiles as he looks over his husband's sleeping face—so peaceful, so different from the intimidating glare the rest of the world knows him so well for—and so handsome. Giggling slightly, he leans in to plant a soft kiss on those lips, still expressionless as ever even in sleep, but set just the tiniest bit more softly.

As he expects, Sweden stirs when their lips meet. "M'ning, wife," the larger nation mumbles when they separate, pulling his arms more tightly around Finland.

"I'm not your wife," Finland replies as always. Sweden mock pouts, and Finland can't help but laugh at the expression. "Su-san, don't—you know I love you."

"Why?"

The question catches the smaller nation by surprise. "Why what?"

"Why d'y' love me?"

Finland peruses Sweden's face. The other nation looks back at him earnestly, a hint of guilt and fear that only someone who knows him as well as Finland could hope to read.

"Su-san…" Finland swallows, trying to reassure Sweden, though he knows where the other country's thoughts are going. "Why wouldn't I love you?"

"B'cause…b'cause I c'dn' pr'tect y' from Russia, all th's times. B'cause I ab'ndon'd y'. B'cause—"

He stops as Finland cuts him off by placing a finger over his lips. "I love you because the sky is blue, and the rivers run to the sea," he says. "I love you because it's the way things are meant to be. I love you because you tried. I love you—" he pauses for a moment—"I love you because, because nine hundred years with you isn't long enough, and even another nine hundred won't be."

There is silence when he finishes. Finland lies, still in Sweden's arms, hoping that his answer is able to convey the depth of his feelings for the nation beside him.

The loving kiss that Sweden finally gives him in response is answer enough.