Male!HungaryXReader June 4th, Trianon

Sound The Bugle

Of course he wasn't alright. Why did you even ask? How stupid of you... It was the fourth of June again. The time of the year when he was the most irritated, angry, desperate and depressed, and it happened every year. It was the day when he put up his flags everywhere and he stared long at the drawings of his old, prouder and greater self. Sometimes he thought he could just easily forget but he was always reminded by himself when this date approached. The date of his separation.

It was the 93rd anniversary of that dark day when all the countries that surrounded him betrayed and ripped out large pieces of him, taking most of his territories and he was left to die. After losing the his most sources of power, it was a miracle he stayed alive. And he hated it. Why couldn't he just die rather than now living in shame?

It was the day when he would bang his fist into the wall, swear, and cursed the traitors and liars who made him into this. He could be quite agressive at times and rebellious, but being so helpless, he just usually ended up crying and often drinking. Yes, he cried. He didn't want you to see but he cried when he didn't know you were around.

Sometimes he could play it cool and hide all the feelings that tortured him just for you, but he was often distracted or just very quiet. All you could do was pathetic attempts to cheer him up, but nothing actually worked. At night all he wanted to do was just to lay his head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat, quietly holding you meanwhile. He didn't say he wanted anything else that day, it was his only wish, why would you have refused? It was the only way you could give him some comfort.

One of your arms resting on his back, your other hand slowly stroking his long hair, he sometimes let out soft sighs, but you could never decide of those were sighs of relief or sorrow. The room was filled with uncomfortable silence. You hated it. You hated to see him like this, every single year.

You ran your fingers through his hair one last time before tangling your fingers into his soft locks and stroked his head with your thumb slowly as you softly started to sing.

"Sound the bugle now
Play it just for me
As the seasons change, remember how I used to be."

He slowly opened his eyes and listened to you curiously. You could finally grab his attention with the song.

"Now I can't go on, I can't even start
I've got nothing left, just an empty heart
I'm a soldier, wounded so I must give up the fight
There's nothing more, for me, lead me away
Or leave me lyin' here."

You felt him tightening his hold on you but it loosened again very soon. You could almost hear what he was thinking of.

"Sound the bugle now
Tell them I don't care
There's not a road I know, that leads to anywhere.
Without a light of fear that I will stumble in the dark
Lay right down, decide not to go on"

You hugged him tightly at this part. The lyrics couldn't be any more accurate. It was about him, his feelings, his thoughts were exactly what you were singing about. You stroked over his back and nuzzled his hair. The song was not over yet. Neither was his life.

"Then from on high, somewhere in the distance
There's a voice that calls Remember who you are
If you loose yourself, your courage soon will follow
So be strong tonight, and remember who you are"

You carefully grabbed his cheeks and gently lifted his head up from your chest, making him look at you. What you could read from his face was a mix of feelings. Gratitude, hopefulness and faint happiness, maybe something else too. He gave you a small smile as he listened and leaned his forehead against yours then closed his eyes again.

"You're a soldier, now
Fighting in a battle
To be free once more
Yeah, that's worth fighting for"

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, and he didn't say a word. He silently nuzzled your cheek as you gently patted his back. You whispered softly. "Minden rendben lesz, Dani. Egy nap megint erõs leszel, és te újra te lehetsz."