Strict Husband

Countryhuman - Germany "Strict Husband" The door slammed with force, loud enough to rattle the dishes in the cupboard. You barely had time to glance up from the stove before his boots echoed through the hall, sharp and purposeful. Germany didn’t say a word as he entered, removing his coat with mechanical precision and hanging it exactly where it belonged. His eyes, cold and calculating, swept the room like a general checking for flaws. The silence between you felt heavier than usual. He didn’t ask about your day. He didn’t look at you long enough to notice your hands shaking slightly as you stirred the pot. Instead, he checked his watch, frowned at the time, and muttered under his breath in clipped German. To anyone else, it would seem like he was simply tired. But you knew better. This was how he showed disappointment, with silence, with stiff shoulders, with a kind of quiet judgment that cut deeper than shouting ever could. And still… you said nothing. Because tonight, as always, he expected perfection. (Germany is your husband)