Germany was driving from his own place down to Italy's with a plan of attack set clear in his mind. He ignored the snowflakes that were drifting down to the earth just outside the car he was currently being mindful not to crash with other cars having no real issue coming out of no where without warning. It rarely snowed in Italy so the fact that there was so much today was rather odd. It wouldn't be too long until he got to the house in Naples at the rate he was going, than he'd return the letter that was not for him to read. It wasn't his after all. Somehow it had gotten mixed in with his stuff and found it during his cleaning. He figured he would just return it to it's real recipient then he'd go back to his house to make sure everything was ready for a meeting later on that week. It wasn't out of his way at all, he had notes to give to him and Prussia was begging him to let France and Spain come over to do... Something he didn't even want to know at this point, it would likely just give him a headache. He had let his brother decide what food to have set up to munch on during the meeting to let him feel like he was doing something important. In truth it was rather important as it was more likely to keep people in their seats. It was also something to keep him occupied for a little while and off the computer.
As he drove down the street where the house Germany focused on the checklist he had in mind to finish over the next few days. Though he took notice just how much the neighborhood his companion lived in had changed so drastically over the years he tried to keep himself thinking on relevant things, such as how to keep everyone else from starting another war. America lately was making a lot of unnecessary jokes towards Russia about something that was banned lately and wasn't quite sure how to handle it. How do you deal with someone shouting out 'super rare pepe: meme cop!' anyway? No one else was going to do anything about stuff like that, or Greece bringing cats to meetings and distracting everyone. Prussia had handed down the torch of that centuries ago. Saying it was too much work and it was his turn anyway. It was funny to think about how in charge his brother used to be despite the fact he was a goofball threw and threw and plans were rarely any good. And here he was. Off topic again. He really needed to stop that. He got to the house however as he was just trying to get his train of thought back on track and parked so it didn't matter at that point.
He got out, locked the door, checked the door. Check, check, check. Than walked up to the door and took breath, a small cloud of the warm breath floating up and disappearing as he knocked on the door, papers in hand, and simply waited for a welcome he knew was going to happen if the other one didn't answer the door. But the likely chance of that occurring at the time of day was rather unreasonable to expect since the nation was probably too busy napping his afternoon away to get up and answer the door.
He had braced himself from the attack, a good boy scout always had to be ready for anything to happen. But something didn't feel different this time as not once answered the door. Even if it hadn't been Italy, surely Romano would have opened the door and slammed it back into his face. Nothing occurred he just stood there waiting for about 15 minutes. One thing that Germany hadn't expected.
Had he gone out to a cafe or something?
He would be easy to contact if that had been the truth, a text to his cell phone would have done it, and Germany did try that and still nothing.
Now, him being a personification of a country he didn't fear anything, wait, no. That's not true; he was afraid that he would be alone again. It was a very reasonable fear, and one of the many reasons he'd put up with things like being playfully tackled by Italy, or having the nation crawl into the bed with him whenever he stayed the night. Truthfully he was expecting the cheerful Italian to answer the door, grin on his face and eyes shut as per usual, and cling to him like velcro without a moment of hesitation. Maybe to be asked to be swung around a little bit even. That was just the way their relationship was, and he wasn't going to back to having to be friends with a stick. But if he wasn't answering his phone. Where was he?
Maybe he was in town chatting up a girl?
No, he still would have answered his phone. It wasn't unusual for the allies to just up and take the nation without warning after all. It couldn't have been England taking him again, it hadn't happened in years and that was during time of war when no one really had a choice in anything.
That was all him just being overly protective, he told himself and shook it off. It was the afternoon, and a cold day as well. He was likely in a bundle of blankets in his bedroom sleeping away like he and his brother often did post lunch.
He had tried to convince himself of all these excuses but his gut just gnawing at him about the whole thing, his hands where getting numb as he searched for a key Italy had given him for things like this. It made the job of saving him much easier after all. The other times he had broken down the door and had to replace it because italy was listening to music too much. It was so common he didn't know why he worried. Not like it was the first time he had come over and no one was home. As Germany slowly opened the door it creaked but he had expected that, they didn't take all that great care of things like that, unlike their garden out back.
The first thing he had noticed he was that the lights were all turned off, making it hard to see the paintings that hung on their walls, the elegant renaissance themed house seemed all dark. It gave off an eerie feeling nonetheless. It gave a rather…Depressed feeling, radiating chilled melancholy. Germany kept walking deeper into the house, even though he kept tripping over different stuff scattered over the place, mostly clothes. He knew that somewhere there was a laughing South Italy named Lovino since he had the feeling that it wasn't Italy's doing, he was too kind for this.
He now called for the other nation, hoping that he was home. He didn't like the feeling inside, not this kind of cold. He didn't even know that the Italy's house could feel that way, not with the way the Italian was so cheery. Why would he live in a place like this when he didn't have too?
"Hey! Where are you, Italy?" He shouted into the house, hearing a mild echo go threw everything before fading out. Than said nothing else for a few minutes before repeated the phrase. As he shuffled to the kitchen falling a few more times he glanced down at the letter every now and then wondering if it really was worth this trouble. It looked untouched, unopened and not wrinkled at all. This was impressive with the age it seemed to be at as well.
He got hold onto a counter to help guide himself once he got into the kitchen, no longer trying to call for the other nation. His eyes were finally adjusting to the little amount of light that a window allowed into the room. The snowflakes gathering and clumping together creating a light blanket of snow that covered their garden and the fields behind them. His now adjusted eyes let Germany see a dark showed figure curled up leaning against an island that was off to the right hand corner of the kitchen. He slowly walked closer making sure not to make too much sound he recognized a slightly familiar sound, though he knew the sound well, it didn't sound more quieter than he was use to. The sound of sobbing from who he figured to be his best friend. Not like a burglar would break into his house and start sobbing in a corner. Though, this was Naples and so could have been possible. Though the outfit gave away that it was, in fact, his friend.
The nation was in his usual casual day outfit he wore almost everywhere but training. It was just a black loose tank top and jeans that if it had been lighter you might have seen the paint stains on it, the one with a few belts and was easy to run away in; he did that rather than fight anyway. But as the man got closer and crouched next to him he noticed that the Italian's sleeves where wet, from his tears at a good guess.
The Germans heart sank at the sight, this was one of the few things he was never prepared to deal with. He grew up in a time of war, you didn't cry in war. You didn't show emotion in war. That was what he was taught, so having this emotionally erratic best friend was wearing at times. Mostly because he really really didn't know how to deal with people crying. How do you cheer someone up? Even after reading many books on the subject he didn't quite understand it. He took a breath and looked him over trying to figure a way to make him not cry anymore.
This was when he noticed there was the framed object in his hands that were wrapped around his knees holding himself in a ball, making most of his sobs sound a lot softer than you would think they were and it made him look like he was shaking less. It looked like a picture of some sort. As the German got closer and closer he crouched next to the weeping Italian, and not to scare him or anything he cleared his throat before touching his shoulder. This made a low grumble sound that caught Italy off guard, causing him to drop the framed object that the Italian had been holding. It fell with a shattering sound echoing threw the kitchen as it fell to the ground. It cracked at one part of the picture, ironically the part that seemed to separate a little maid from the others in the group picture. Germany couldn't see in much detail but he could make out that Hungary and Austria in outfits he thought he had never really seen but that was only in Hungary's case since he didn't talk to her much. In the lower half of the portrait there were two more nations though he couldn't figure out who they were at first.
One of them was in a small frilly maid outfit holding something that looked to be a broom, but it seemed oddly familiar. He quickly took notice to a little curl sticking out of the young nation's head and made a pretty good guess as to who it was. His heart sped up rather rapidly once he placed the curl. His mind jumped right away to think about how the nation had mentioned that his first crush had in fact been a boy, and if he had dressed like that at that age, he might have even had him as a boyfriend. He bushed the thoughts aside as he scanned over the picture once again over the short minute before looking to the person who had dropped it. Who seemed rather shocked at him, though he still had tears dripping down his face at the moment.
Silence stayed in the room for a minute or two as they both took in the shock, both gulping though one was from awkwardness and the other was to stop tears. "V-Vee~!...Luddy you scared me!" He said his voice high and slightly shrill at the start but he did his best to end it with a laugh. "What ya doing here?" He said after another minute of calming himself down trying to hide his tears a little. Germany looked at him worriedly a little longer glad they where at the same level currently and he broke eye contact to pull out a hankie he often carried with him at this point. "Sorry. You didn't answer your phone." He muttered as he handed it to him and the Italian took it without another word and with a smile on his face in fact.
How was it he could smile that soon after crying that much? If it hadn't been for a minute ago he would have thought nothing had been wrong, he always seemed so happy. The one who would always yell about his favorite food and try to get him to eat it, why was that? Did it help to have someone else not notice for a while? There was suddenly this sinking feeling in chest as he continued to stare at the younger nation. Did...he just not notice when he had been honestly upset before? The sinking got worse the more he thought about it. "Feli." His voice quivered as he said the nation's human name, trying to be a comfort to whatever seemed to have bothered him seconds ago
Italy still had this huge cheery smile plastered onto his face as his eyes where looking directly at what was being held by what was in Germany's hand. The letter. "Vee~ Is that for me? Yay! Letters!" He giggled trying to reach it but the blonde was just out of his reach to get a hold of it since Germany had pulled it back from him out of reflex of keeping things from him but than remembered it was for the nation before him. That right, up until now he had forgotten why he had visited Feli today. The paperwork and the letter.
The blonde cleared his throat as he gave a nod and handed Feli the letter. "Um yes... I found this when I was cleaning. It must have been a mix up with the postal service or something." After he had finished he cleared his throat again, maybe Italy didn't want to be noticed like that and that was why he had changed the subject. He didn't call the nation out on the odd behavior. Not yet at least, it seemed more as though he wanted to forget it just occurred.
As the letter was shown to him Italy looked completely frozen. Even his breathing had stopped at the moment. The letter had been yellowed by time but nothing else seemed to have been in contact with it. Even the small ink smudges where still there though the envelope had yellowed and began to wear at its edges. Then there was that perfected handwriting that spelled out Italy's full name human name on it as well as who it had come from. This being the reason he was frozen and not wanting to blink at all.
He didn't even need to see from who it had come from. He knew that handwriting to well. How long had it been since he had last seen it? Since that day that he had his first kiss and than was left alone? That tearful day that he promised to make sweets and he got scolded for losing his push broom? He couldn't even remember the years now just the date; that date was forever stuck in his nation's breath was simply taken away, could have been him for real? It looked unopened so it had to have been one of the lost ones that he had always wished would show up. He took it in his shaking hands as he just stared down at it.
Holy Roman Empire? He looked at the date and let out a breath he honestly didn't know that was held. The date was just before the end of that stupid war he hadn't to be mentioned.
Tears began to dare to return as he was just brought back to the abandoned feeling that the whole memory caused. A drop of his temperature, breath and heart all in a second of seeing the curve of the 'F' of his name. No, god no, not today. Why did it have to be the day of the anniversary of the death of him that it finally found it's way to him? He gulped back the tears best he could but he had been crying so much that day that he thought it wouldn't matter at this point. He hugged the letter and let the tears roll down his face as he started to sob again. He knew Germany must have been confused, and he knew he was being held awkwardly by the larger nation. But god, he didn't care. He finally got one of those letters from Roman.
