In a dimly-lit bar, they share a drink together. As chatty as everyone is, their voices are low and soft while the mood is somber at best. There are few smiles as a singer in the background reminisces of a long lost love. Finland though is in his own world and pulled out a case from his chest pocket and offered Estonia a cigarette but the man declined.

“C’mon Estonia, live a little. I bet you’ve never smoked a day in your life.”

“For your information, I live a fulfilling life and doing just fine without them,” he laughed. “Besides, smoking too many of them will kill you.”

“Details!” Finland said before he lit up a smoke. After taking a few drags, he let it lay against a glass ashtray and placed the lighter next to it. “It isn’t like we can die anyways.”

That got a chuckle out of Estonia when he placed a finger to his lips, “Shh… don’t say that out loud. No one is supposed to know about that.” With a few friendly jabs back and forth, their conversation quickly died and the two men were left to sit in an awkward silence that had Finland feeling out of place. It wasn’t normal for their conversations to just dissipate like that. He watched Estonia’s mannerisms closely as he took a few more drags of his cigarette. The man was staring mindlessly into his liqueur with an expression that would rival a grieving widow. Finland was beginning to lose his patience. In a move that was out of character for him, he smacked the table with such force that Estonia jumped from his seat and startled the folks at the surrounding tables.

“I didn’t sit on a boat for two and half hours to watch you stare at your drink all night.”

Finland’s tone was harsh and Estonia stared at him like a deer in headlights, “Uh, right, I’m sorry.” he replied as he turned his head looking rather embarrassed. Finland quickly returned to his usual self when he realized what he had done. He rubbed the back of his neck feeling rather guilty. He couldn’t believe he lost his temper like that.

“Estonia, I’m so sorry,” he said apologetically. “It’s just—I’m worried about you right now.”

“I know, I know,” Estonia replied. “And you don’t need to apologize. I should be the one apologizing. I’m the one who invited you and yet here I am being a bad host. Let’s restart this from scratch shall we?”

Estonia lifted up his drink up and with a grin he proposed a toast, “To friendship and brotherhood.”

Finland was impressed just how quick Estonia changed his entire persona. He was dying for a topic change and was delighted to put all of this in the past, for now at least.

“To friendship and brotherhood!”

Estonia seemed to be loosening himself up after having two drinks as they chatted about everything under the sun. Finland went for sports and his adventures of playing catch-up with Sweden. Meanwhile Estonia talked about music and his fascination for the sciences. Even as the patrons slowly emptied the bar and the shows were ending for the night, they continued on as if the world around them didn’t exist, ordering drink after drink. Finally at one in the morning, the owners grew tired of them causing a ruckus. One of the men, who spoke Estonian with a notable accent and dressed in an expensive blue suit, announced they were closing shortly and the two of them needed to leave. They didn’t contest and Estonia paid the bill. They stumbled out of bar, laughing at the top of their lungs, and their arms entwined. The owners had never been so grateful to see someone leave as the man from earlier locked the door behind them.

Estonia walked Finland back to his hotel. He felt guilty that he couldn’t house him but Finland didn’t seem to mind. It wasn’t Estonia’s fault that he lacked a spare bed and there was no way he was going to let Finland sleep on the bedroom floor. The rooms in Tallinn were cheap, cozy, and it suited his needs just fine. Finland's feet were killing him but luckily his hotel wasn’t too far from the bar they spent their evening at.

The air felt like winter was just around the corner and Finland hated it. It was made worse when the mood between them had also reverted back to how things were at the bar earlier in the evening. Estonia insisted it was because he was tired but Finland was not buying it. He doesn’t press him about it however. He doesn’t want to end their stellar night on such a sour note.

When they had arrived to the old-style wooden hotel doors, Finland was taken aback when Estonia showered him with so much open affection. Estonia wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in for a warm and familiar embrace.

But his hug felt different than usual. He had felt this kind of hug before—on the night he and Sweden said their goodbyes before Russia took him away to Saint Petersburg. The memory of the mighty Sweden failing to keep his composure; his tears stained his shoulders as he whispered “I’m sorry” over and over in his ear, was one that he’ll never forget for eternity. It was only ten years ago that Sweden had opened up to him that he truly felt that he was never going to see Finland ever again.

Now, it was Estonia’s turn. It was one to feel it from Sweden but Estonia was his brother—his best friend. They had spent so many centuries apart even though they lived under the same ruling powers. Sweden would tip-toe around the rules to keep him comfortable. Russia, on the other hand, had given him more freedoms than Estonia ever hoped to have when he began living under his roof—though he later realized this was only because Russia feared he’d rebel in order to return to Sweden. But now that they were free together, Finland couldn’t bare to lose Estonia again. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

Finland noticed the sorrow in Estonia’s aqua-coloured eyes when he had pulled away. Though he promised himself that he wouldn't push the issue, Finland can't let it slide any longer.

“Estonia, please talk to me. You haven’t been yourself all night.”

There’s a long and lengthy pause, and Finland never got the answers he wanted. Instead Estonia avoids the question entirely. He shouldn’t have expected anything less from him. Estonia always tip-toed around questions he didn’t want to answer by changing the topic or continuing on as if nothing happened. The man had such strong walls that few could tumble down.

“Thank you for such a wonderful evening. Promise me we’ll do this again?”

“Of course. But—”

“Excellent. I’ll be looking forward to it,” Estonia grinned. “Please send my regards to Sweden the next time you two meet.”

He stuffed his bare hands in his coat pockets and Estonia turned to walk away into the night. Finland however was quicker and grabbed on to Estonia’s right arm with a tight grip.

“Wait!” Finland cried out desperately. “Please stay the night with me. It’s late out and there’s nothing running at this hour. My bed is big enough for the both of us.”

Estonia turned his head back with a smile. It’s not the kind that Finland wanted—it was somber at best—but it was still a smile.

“I’m flattered but that’s not necessary. Don’t worry, I’ll be alright. Tallinn is pretty safe at night.”

In a move that surprised Estonia (though it probably shouldn’t have), Finland yanked him backwards by pulling him by the arm. They grew close as Estonia could feel Finland’s head pressed deep into his upper back. Quiet sobs could be heard and it was cracking Estonia’s hard composure. He hated seeing others cry but hurt more when it came from the ones he loved most. He tried to rationalize himself that all of this was because Finland was tired and a little drunk. But even that couldn’t get Estonia to believe his own lies.

“Please talk to me,” Finland softly repeated, in between sobs. “Whatever it is, I won’t judge.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t.”

“Yes you can. Stop lying to me.”

Estonia hung his head low and bit his lip for a brief moment. He opened his mouth, took a breath—and then nothing. One half of him wanted to spill his emotions out. But no matter how much he tried, the other half was too stubborn to admit the truth: his freedom was at jeopardy and he was too ashamed to admit it. The war brewing in the west will not spare them.

The only thing he could muster up was a warning—

“A word of advice: if Russia comes to your door, don’t answer it. He’s the devil in disguise.”

Finland’s eyes opened wide when Estonia used all of his strength to pull himself from his friend’s grip. Without looking back, he ran as fast as he could through the streets of the downtown without a word. Hotel patrons arrived to their windows startled when Finland yelled out his name loud enough that his voice had cracked. He couldn’t get the energy to go after him and stopped after making it a few blocks away from the hotel. He watched helplessly as Estonia disappeared further into darkness.

To say his words hadn’t struck fear into him would be a lie. A warning from Estonia was never to be taken lightly. The man seemed to carry a sixth sense and could feel danger approaching long before it would take place.

It really did feel as if this was their final night together.

And in the end, Finland never slept that night.

He stood up in his bed until dawn smoking each cigarette, one by one, until his case of eight was emptied out. The sun was beginning to rise though its light was stuck behind dark grey clouds—a fitting end to his time in Tallinn. He watched attentively at the dead streets of the Old City through the dirty hotel window while the radio cycled through various soft jazz tunes. It was an easy distraction to keep his mind from replaying the events from last night.

It was nearly six the morning. He had to get himself ready or he’d miss the cruise back to Helsinki. He was still dressed in the clothing he went out to the bar with, minus his jacket which had been tossed on to a chair at the room’s entrance, but he made sure to clean himself up. He hardly recognized himself in the bathroom mirror. His light blond hair looked ruffled like a bird’s nest while his eyes looked dark, heavy, and blood-shot. His white-collared shirt was wrinkled from front to back and his suspenders were barely hanging on at the edge of his shoulders. Finland looked as if he aged by at least five years. He wasn’t sure why he bothered splashing water in his face—it didn’t fix the bags underneath his eyes. But at least he felt a little more refreshed as he dried himself off.

His belongings were packed and he pulled the wrinkles out of the bed he ended up never sleeping in. After calling for a taxi, he carried his heavy bags down the long-winded wooden stair case to the small lobby. Finland was ready to pay his bill but the young clerk had mysteriously disappeared. He lightly tapped the silver bell for service. It was there on the counter where Finland saw a copy of today’s paper and he grabbed it to have a closer look. He had suddenly lost the colour in his face when he saw the solo photographs of Estonia and Russia’s bosses side by side. His eyes read the black bolded headline and Estonia’s words rang in his head like a broken record:

If Russia comes to your door, don’t answer it. He’s the devil in disguise.

If Russia comes to your door, don’t answer it. He’s the devil in disguise.

If Russia comes to your door, don’t answer it. He’s the devil in disguise...

He understood everything now. It won’t be long that he’ll be next in line. He was always Russia’s favourite after all.