Pride welled up in his stomach as Luciano gave him a pat on the head, his image, his smell, his everything sauntered away, he trailing after the Italian like a lovesick puppy.
He was infatuated, filled with such an amorous feeling that made his judgment fuzzy and him unable to listen to anyone other than his lovely Italy, the light of his life, the one who mattered most.
And that's all that mattered to the nation. It was, after all, just he, his lover and their respective people, right?
Siegfried was a beast. No one other than his love could stand to look at him.
"I can understand why they can't look at the monster lurking in the shadows," his chin was pulled down, Luciano's warm breath on his lips. It smelt of strawberries and blood.
"But I see you, and you are wicked. So am I, we understand each other. But you are a monster, a thing to be owned and manipulated." Lips trailed softly against his own, teeth gently grazing his bottom lip, pulling it softly before he whispered harshly, "You belong to me, and don't let anyone convince you otherwise."
He tasted of rust and blueberries. The scratches on his back stayed for several days afterwards, but he paid them no mind as he worked on turning the smaller built nation into pure mush, a moaning and panting mess of the formerly cunning Italian.
His heart sunk when he awoke, cold, alone, and hungry. He ignored the hunger, returning to his post beside his liebling. He stood by the throne-fashioned chair, spine straight as a metal pole and hands behind his back. His hardened gaze glared at the door at the end of the hall, like a sentient being designed to sit and stay like a patient guard dog.
"Can we go outside today?" Siegfried asked, growing nervous as the other man's cruel violet eyes turned to him, certainly surprised by the abrupt , an eyebrow raised in question. Realizing he was being prompted to elaborate, he stammered, "I mean, just to, I dunno, maybe get some fresh air or something." He watched as the shorter nation pick up his glass, fingers tightly clenched, the only sign of anger among his calm mannerisms. Sighing deeply Luciano spoke, his erratic, clear voice echoing around the room.
"You aren't allowed out, EVER! Do you not love me enough to respect that? You can't leave, not like he did, like they all did." He threw the glass, hitting the wall behind the Germanic nation, who flinched as the cup smashed against the stone. Crocodile tears fell down his face as he slammed his door shut, only leaving the other nation to wallow in his own guilt. That pain that his partner displayed made his heart convulse wildly, eyes burning as he wished to take the fear, the pain, away from Italien as he took it all onto himself, only wanting Luciano to be happy.
The next morning was horrible, Luciano sitting silently at the opposite end of the table, ignoring him completely while picking at his food. Siegfried resisted the urge to whimper like a hurt pup, yipping in pain as his master paid no mind to him, having more important things to do other than play with a pathetic mutt. When breakfast was over, a hand grabbed his wrist, hurried orders not to leave his room being given to him by the temperamental male.
He stayed in his room for a week, diligent in his opinion to never make the other nation upset, because it physically hurt when he cried or felt sadness or someone disappointed him. He's never done so since.