At that moment , Italy was shocked. Surprised and happy in so many ways.
It had started years ago. The only time Italy had fallen in love. Sure ,he was only a child but he knew very well that the feeling he felt for Holy Roman Empire was a feeling he had read about in so many books. He had read many fairytales that always ended in the characters falling in love and living happily ever after. He had wondered what true love felt like and shortly after began to feel it. He eventually figured out that he had fallen in love with that blonde-haired, blue-eyed nation. It was on the day of HRE's departing for war that he made these feeling's known and was over-joyed that HRE felt the same. HRE promised that no matter what, they would meet again and with that, he left.
Italy waited for him to return. He waited, and waited, and waited, but to no avail. It had been years maybe a century or two since the end of the war. The Holy Roman Empire had fallen and disappeared into history.
Italy was sent to a church. He was converted to Catholicism as were most of his people. He prayed so hard to meet HRE again. He missed those deep blue eyes always checking him for bruises, or cuts, or scratches every time he would do something stupid. He missed that perfectly combed-back blonde hair under that big bowl-shaped black hat. But most of all, he missed that voice calling his name, even scolding him. The boys face was burned into Italy's memory forever.
One day while he was praying for that very thing, he heard someone unsheathe their sword. Fear shot straight through him. A voice commanded ,"stand up now." It made him tremble but sounded familiar somehow, as if he had heard it before. Instantly he knew who it was and turned around.
At that moment, Italy was shocked. Surprised and happy in so many ways.
There standing in front of him was HRE. He had grown to be a teenager and his hair wasn't combed back but in all still looked the same and he was as handsome as ever. He was currently holding his sword level to Italy's chest. Italy couldn't hold back the tears. He smiled which thoroughly confused the blonde in front of him and then began to sob.
This was all new to the blonde. He'd never seen anyone cry, mostly because he had been restricted to play only in his back yard by his brother for as long as he could remember. He stood there and stared, bewildered by that trembling sobbing Italian in front of him. He was so bewildered that he didn't even feel a tear roll down his cheek until it ran into his mouth. He raised a hand to his face. Sure enough, on his fingertip was a bit of salty liquid. How could he be crying? He didn't even know the Italian in front of him. But somehow this Italian seemed familiar. He couldn't quite place where he had seen him before but he knew he had. With that the tears started gushing. What was happening? Why was he crying?
They stood there and cried for what seemed like ages. Finally the blonde broke the silence. At the sight of him opening his mouth to speak Italy was expecting something like, "Italy, I missed you so much," or a , "Is it really you?". Italy wasn't expecting anything like what came next. The blonde stared at him, a couple tear streaks down his cheeks, and weakly asked, "Who are you?" and with that Italy's whole world came crashing down.
The Italian fell to his knees and stared at the blonde. His wide and teary eyes almost pleading for the blonde to remember something. Well no memories were flowing back to him. No memory of any kind about the Italian came. They stared at each other for another moment before the Italian finally choked out, "Do you really not remember me? The little maid at Austria's house? Please remember…please." This was all to much. The blonde turned and hightailed it out of there. He thought about what the Italian said. "He must have mistook me for someone else. There's no way he knows me. There's no way….Is there?" His thoughts trailed off as he ran as fast as his legs could possibly carry him back home not looking back, not even once.
As if Italy hadn't been torn up inside enough, the blonde turned and exited the building as quickly and as quietly as he had come. Italy still kneeling there in astonishment and undeniable hurt, stared in disbelief at the door. Realizing that the blonde had left him most likely permanently, Italy crumpled to the ground, tears flowing like water falls out of his eyes and down his now red cheeks. He lay there and remembered the times when him and HRE were children. How happy he had been and how lucky he was to experience what not many people had ever actually felt in their lives. The love for one that could not be changed or tainted in any way and he knew that deep in the blondes heart, he actually still felt the love for Italy that he had so many years ago. And maybe, just maybe, would remember in the future. With that one hopeful thought, Italy drifted into a deep, somewhat peaceful sleep.