No, ye only have had almost a million lovers. [And to the trash the shards go.] I can't do that. [This one comes quietly.] Ta wonder whether everyone I meet have seen yer dick and know exactly what tone of voice ye take when yer about to come.

[Norway leans to the side of the sink, his fingers curling around it, still facing rather the kitchen cupboards rather than Denmark. He shifts his weight from one side to another, awkward.]

... Can't call ye mine like that.

[He's coming to a conclusion here. And while it took a while to get here - it seems he wasn't really able to think about it on his own - he feels right about it. Isn't it quite impossible to fit these two completely different kind of pieces together and not end up with an ugly mess.]

Forget it. It's not going ta work.