Innocence
Innocent-without sin; pure
There was a variety of ways to describe Italy. Naive, foolish, ditzy, maybe even innocent. When Germany told Italy this, an odd expression had come over the Italian's face. It was like a sad, semi-smirk, murky and difficult to read. The two were sharing what they thought of each other in one word due to an idea of the Italian's, and once it was Germany's turn, he didn't hesitate in speaking the word that always leapt to his mind.
"Innocent."
The Italian had raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to use that word? To describe me?" Germany had looked confusedly at the Italian. "What do you mean? You're an innocent person, aren't you?" Italy grinned at him and tilted his head impishly to the side, but when he spoke, his voice sounded sad underneath the forced joviality. "Show me an innocent...and I'll show you a fairytale.*"
Germany was aware that Italy had been purposely avoiding him since that encounter last week. What he had said puzzled Germany.
"Show me an innocent..."
"And I'll show you a fairytale..." he murmured, rising out of his seat and beginning to walk to his computer. Powering up the piece of technology, Germany ran his hands through his blonde hair, leaning back in the dark leather suede chair behind the desk. Ludwig pulled up his new background-check app on the side that Japan had downloaded on his laptop.
'FELICIANO VARGAS'
Ludwig clicked on the link and stiffened in his chair, blue eyes going wide. A picture of the Italian smiling sarcastically at the camera, a fedora on his head, clad in a pin-striped suit met his shocked eyes. Feliciano looked like a different person. His amber eyes were half-lidded, hazy with triumph and confidence, behind him was a figure that looked suspiciously like his brother. The Germanic scrolled down, looking at related news and information on the side of the picture.
Feliciano Vargas
Age: 20
Defining Features: Curl that sticks out of hair; has a tendency to tack on 've' to his sentences
Vargas is under suspicion for the disappearance of nearly half an Italian Mafia gang; alongside his brother(see 'Lovino Vargas') the two are greatly feared out through the country of Italy for notorious crimes.
Ludwig blinked, still in shock at the screen and the startling information it brought. There was a sudden knock at the door. "Ve, Ludwig~"
Speak of the devil.
Ludwig rapidly closed his tabs and shut the laptop, blonde hair once again falling into his eyes as he stumbled towards the door. He yanked it open, blue eyes scanning the doorway. Feliciano stared at him, eyes wide, inno- Ludwig frowned. There was that word again. Innocent. The Italian was anything but, apparently. Ludwig nodded in his direction. "Ja? You need something?" Feliciano's smile twitched. "I wanted to spend time with you, ve~!" Italy skipped inside the warm house, revelling in the scent of Germany's cologne and dull alcohol. Ludwig closed the door; he understood now. Was there really such a thing as an innocent?
Later, when Ludwig had slipped off to his room to get something, Feliciano leapt out of his chair, reaching for the dictionary that sat on Germany's desk. He opened it to the G's, flipping frantically. Taking a black pen, Feliciano scribbled next to the word he was looking for. He left the dictionary open as he powered up Ludwig's computer, opening the same app Ludwig was using merely an hour ago. Once he found what he was looking for, he scooped his jacket off the back of his chair and called out to Ludwig. "Ludwig~ It's late, I'm going to go! Buonanotte~*!" And Feliciano walked out the door.
Ludwig strolled back into his living room, noticing a few changes. That dictionary had been closed, and his laptop hadn't been on... The German rushed forward, scanning what the Italian had written on the pages. His blood chilled, sending a shiver down his spine.
Guilty-having committed an offense, crime, violation, or wrong, especially against moral or penal law; justly subject to a certain accusation or penalty
Next to the definition was a twisted black arrow that pointed to the screen of his laptop. Blue eyes flickered to the screen, taking in the picture Feliciano had left. It was a group picture of the G8, a rare moment snapped when they were all smiling, laughing at a moment of idiocy in the meeting. Scrawled in Italy's cursive next in the picture was,
Sound familiar...?
Yes, I should be working on Accident and Fire and Ice, but plot bunnies will kill you! I think I'm going to post a few more stories tonight, I'm in an angsty/fluff mood right now. Finished HetaOni for the VERY FIRST TIME.
Show me an innocent...and I'll show you a fairytale.- If anyone can tell where the quote is from, they get a preview of Accident's next chapter~
Buonanotte- Good night. {Italian}
HetaOni was soo saad...*crying my soul out here*
With every review we get, an Italy is saved from eating pizzas made by England~!