((Just a little thing I came up with when I was bored late at night. A bit of gore, a bit of GerIta. Bit of a cliché but I was bored soooooo whatever. ENJOY!)
Feliciano scanned the battlefield from his hiding place. It wasn't as good as he'd have liked, but it would have to do for now. They were after him. He checked his guns ammo and was satisfies to find that it was fuller than he'd expected. He checked again, this time looking for his German ally, but could see no sign of him. He was about to stand up and move, when a voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Don't move Feliciano." Francis was aiming a gun at him.
For a change, the usually cowardly Italian didn't feel afraid. Maybe it was the adrenalin, he didn't know. Instead of crying for Ludwig like he would have done in the past, he let out a small laugh.
"Ciao big brother Francis. Been a while, eh?" He called.
"You have no where to run. We already have Lovino, so just give yourself up." The Frenchman ordered.
"I would...but I don't think my brother would want that. As the home of the Mafia, I wont go down without a fight." He spat.
Francis was taken back by the force behind the statement. He'd never really intended to fight the Italian, he'd just expected him to give up like always! Why was today so different? He notices that Feliciano was covered in blood that obviously wasn't his own.
"Feli? Have you been fighting?" He asked.
"Of course. I wouldn't have lasted till now if I hadn't. I don't normally need to, but I got separated from Ludwig." He explained.
"Feli...I don't want to hurt you. Just come with me."
There was a long pause. It was almost as if the battle had stopped around the two of them. Feliciano stared at Francis, enjoying the moments of silence. Eventually, he et out a loud, high pitched laugh.
"Never." He snarled.
He raised his gun and fires three shots. Every single one of them hit the Frenchman, but none of them were fatal. The first grazed his cheek, a waterfall of blood slid its way down to his chin. The second caught him in the shoulder, knocking him off balance. The third hit him in the lower leg, sending him to his knees. When Feliciano decided Francis was disabled enough to approach, he slowly made his forward.
"Who's weak now?" He muttered, putting the gun to Francis' head.
Before ye could pull the trigger, however, Francis raised his gun and sent a single shot into the Italians stomach. He let out a grunt of pain and fell back allowing the Frenchman to retreat.
"Damn...I'm sorry Fratello, I guess I... cant save you now. Just ...know that I tried..." He sighed, looking up to the grey sky.
"FELI!" Called a familiar voice.
He looked to the side and saw Ludwig running towards him. He wanted to have hope, but he knew the German was too far away to do anything beneficial. He notices his vision was starting to leave him. When Ludwig was barely close enough, he used his last ounce of energy to speak.
"Ich liebe dich, Ludwig." He cried, as he fell into oblivion.
(Sheesh! Been a while since I wrote like that! Anyway, I apologise for any bad grammar or spelling mistakes, I wrote this at midnight cause I couldn't sleep!)
