Here they were safe and warm: one a weak part of a country, and the other a forgotten country.
May be no one saw how perfect they were for each other, how they clung to one another.
It was okay, because what others thought and believed didn't really mean all that much.
Feliciano huddled closer; emotions bouncing around giddily, because all that he could currently focus on were the positives.
He hummed absentmindedly to himself, only for Gilbert to add a rock theme to it by mimicing a guitar's sound.
North Italy giggled, and curled closer.
Feliciano felt loved by the other and respected too.
He may not be that strong and the other may not be a country anymore, but this love nourished and strengthened them.
He felt invincible with this strong Prussian backing him up, and Prussia felt like someone still cared with this small Italian by his side.
Prussia had thought that everyone would leave eventually; Ludwig grew up, Hungary wanted Austria more, and what if Gilbird grew up one day and left him?
Germania and Holy Rome had died: one a grandfather, the other a brother.
What kept Feli so close?
Was he the last to recognize awesome?
Gilbert stared at the Italian that nestled close, and wondered what kept him near when everyone else seemed to slowly forget about the awesome Gilbert.
He could savor this moment of warmth, of love.
He could try to not worry about their future; Prussia may forget about the fact that one day he'll vanish and leave his love behind.
Gilbert couldn't bare to see his love so heartbroken and sorrowful.
Pushing those thoughts away, he held on to this moment of pure bliss with his true love, someone that would never leave him.
