Truthfully, you should know that you are beautiful. Even more truthfully, you will never be as beautiful to yourself as you are to me.
It would be unfair to say anything was truly "okay". While the war was over and nothing was irrevocably broken anymore, nothing was fixed either. They were all little broken dolls sat around the table, watching in slight interest as America half-closed his eyes and finished his speech on the importance of keeping arms only in capable hands. 1956, 11 years since the end of the war in Europe: 11 long, long years. Italy's easy-to-lose attention was drawn from the blank paper in front of him that he'd been supposed to take notes on to Germany across the table. Relations between the two nations had been anything but pleasant following the end of the war and, due to the past being too fresh and both their governments wanting nothing to do with one another, the two hadn't attempted anything outside of formal deals. Upon seeing Germany, any sort of bitterness inside of him dissolved. The blonde's usually well-kept hair was ruffled and falling about his face, and the blue in his eyes had been reduced to a hazy gray. Dark rings lined the area below his eyes, and instead of being prim and upright like usual, he was balancing his chin atop his hand to keep some sort of balance in his upside down world. "Oh, Germany…" Italy found himself whispering to himself. "You must be so exhausted." No, he couldn't, he had betrayed Germany and Germany had hurt him, and there was no room for softness of feelings. But, he looked so sad and times had changed, and so had they. And Italy trusted himself to help Germany, and there would obviously be nothing beyond that. Just help. But a small part inside of him knew, while Italy may have to hate Germany, Feliciano never hated Ludwig. You couldn't turn off a feeling, and whatever was inside himself ever since that little boy and reborn during the war with Ludwig - that wouldn't leave. Somewhere in the middle of Italy's mental tirade, the meeting had been called to a close and the nations were filing themselves out the door and back into the real world. Belgium was conversing animatedly with France who seemed more interested in her than what she was saying, with England following close behind with a very stressed America (which was already unsettling), and it stuck out to Italy how no one seemed even remotely… Alive. But the worst offender was Germany, slowly and steadily packing up his files and averting eye contact with the few remaining nations, including Italy himself. Normally, Italy would have been out the door as well, but his heart told him that it'd be better if he decided to just talk to the other nation he had once, not so long ago, considered a best friend. So, he decided to play a game.
"Germany! Can we talk please?" Italy said, animatedly throwing his arms up and trying to appear friendly as though things between the two weren't messed up beyond belief.
"Not now, Italy. I have work to do," If Germany was surprised by this random proposition, he was doing his best to act like this was completely normal.
"Please? It'll be fast, I promise!" Italy said, latching onto Germany's arm and grinning up at him.
"W-what, why are you so insistent on talking to me? And get off, this is not professional!" Germany muttered through gritted teeth, trying to push off the oh-so insistent Italian.
"It's important! I have a game for us to play, okay Germany?" Italy asked, still clutching to his arm and beaming up at him, as though one of them wasn't trying to violently remove the other.
"If I play this game, will you leave me alone?!" He replied, remaining patience wearing thin.
"Uh, sure! Now for this game, we are not going to be Italy and Germany. We're going to be Feliciano and Ludwig, and anything we say isn't going to affect our status as nations. We're just going to be people for now, because there's some things I want to say to you and maybe you have things you want to say to me and it doesn't have to be secret because of what we are, and I don't like secrets, they're icky and I want to be honest with you. So will you play along with me?" Feliciano asked, slightly breathless by the end of the rant. Ludwig simply stared at him, as though his brain was trying to catch up with all of Feliciano's words.
"Er, okay Feliciano. Now what exactly do you want to tell me?" Ludwig replied, curiosity overriding the apprehension that he originally felt. Fidgeting slightly, Feliciano took a deep breath and gave a wavering smile before placing his hands on Ludwig's cheeks.
"Ludwig - eh it's funny not calling you Germany -, I don't like seeing you like this. All tired and bruised and-I know that's not you! And, and I hate how we can't like each other anymore because we're nations and I know we both screwed up and what you did was bad and what we did was bad, but, but we're still people too! And I wish it wasn't this way. And I wish I could just-just…" He drifted off, still absentmindedly holding Ludwig's worn face, tracing circles across his cheeks. They sat in silence for a moment, Feliciano averting his gaze. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to see Ludwig's expression. Ludwig, who seemed to now be sagging even more from the ever-familiar ache that had taken over his body since the war, now wished for the first time he was human. God, if only he was human. Softening a little, he cupped his hands over Feliciano's.
"You know why I'm so tired? I'm-" scared shitless things will go wrong again, I can't sleep what if someone tries to do that again, oh my God, my pride won't let me rest, I need to preserve my remaining honor, I have to work my ass off to make sure I'm not a disappointment or ruin anything the way I did before, oh God please forgive me- "working myself to make sure things, well things don't go wrong again. It's tiring, Feliciano, and I don't like how things are now, but I hate how they were. You, well, you were the only thing right then, and that didn't turn out well. It's my job to make sure things never go wrong the way they did ever again." He finished, refusing to make eye contact out of the sheer vulnerability he had to endure for this. A soft stroke across his cheek reminded him that, yes, Feliciano was still there and hadn't run away. At least he wasn't doing anything too embarrassing like crying or proposing to Feliciano like that AWFUL Valentine's Day that wasn't to be mentioned.
"Oh Ludwig, it's not only you that has to prevent something from happening. That's why we're all here. We're a team! Pinky promise, I'll keep you safe, and we'll be good to each other, even if our bosses or people aren't really happy with each other," Smiling sweetly, Feliciano moved his hands from Ludwig's cheeks to his shoulders and rested them there and offered a pinky for Ludwig to shake.
"It seems weird to me that we can have this friendly relationship even though we're supposed to keep our distance," Ludwig muttered, still accepting Feliciano's offer.
"Well, we aren't only nations. It's a balance, and I know that I'll always want to be your friend, Ludwig," Feliciano said, a slight blush dusting his cheeks.
"Friends, huh… Well, I'm glad we played this 'game' or whatever this was. I really should be going, though," Ludwig said, despite the fact that he didn't move at all, in fact he seemed rooted to the spot. Feliciano, on the other hand, moved ever so slowly towards Ludwig, before placing a chaste kiss on both his cheeks.
"Yes, yes! I love you, Ludwig, I really, really do. And someday, hopefully, Italy will love Germany and Germany, maybe, just maybe, will love Italy too." Feliciano said, trying to remain as composed as possible, despite his insides doing traitorous things. Ludwig merely sputtered out some sort of "good bye" before returning to the world where there was no Feliciano or Ludwig, only Italy and Germany. And Feliciano wished things were okay, just this once, just for them.