He lay in his arms smiling up at him. The smile he always had upon his bright face. Blood, blood dribbled from his slender lips. "I'll always keep smiling for you." Was what he said. It was what he said as he lay dying. Dying in his arms. "Do you know why I smile?" He asked softly. "It makes you smile, I smile for you."
That was just it, the other male lost it. The tears that had been brimming up in his eyes over flowed and he couldn't take it. "Italy, you're silly, you don't need to do that for me." He laughed lightly was he cried. "All I want from you is for you to hold on." The blonde begged. Their eyes met again, brown against blue. "It's getting cold Germany. . ." He shivered as they stayed near the floor.
The brown haired male turned away to cough more blood up into the patch that was already covered. He'd been hit by a bullet. A bullet that had just missed the stomach and lung. His blue uniform now a mixture of red, amber and blue. Italy's brown eyes began to roll backward in to his head. The whites of his eyes beginning to take over. He was losing him again. "I can't stay awake . . ."He slowly managed to get out as he almost started gasping. More blood came up as he coughed. His life was slipping away. Ludwig grabbed his hand where a silver ring sat up on his ring finger.
"Come on Italy only a little longer I promise." The sirens called in the distance. His pulse was racing and he could barely hear anything over the thudding. He managed to get the Italian's attention and he began to sing to him softly. "Draw a circle, that's the world. Draw a circle, that's the world. Draw a circle, that's the world. You are Hetalia. . ." His voice broke and so did his heart. The body grew limp and Feliciano was still smiling.
Ludwig brought his head back up and looked at him. Blank, lifeless eyes, a stare that went on for miles and that smile, the smile Germany had seen so many times. "Feliciano?" He asked shaking him a little. There was no response. "Italy?!" He began to get frantic before realising there was nothing more he could do. Italy, Feliciano Vargas, the man he was going to get married to in a month, was dead in his arms.
The ambulance arrived all too late. He was gone and they couldn't get him back. Obviously the death was down to blood loss, the bullet wound and several gashes that hadn't been realised earlier. It was the end.
A few months had passed and Germany sat at a gravestone. The stone that had his name on. Ludwig placed some flowers down and a note that said, 'I hope to be with you soon. Germany~.' He then sat with his back against the gravestone and closed his eyes like usual.
When he opened them he was still in the graveyard and when he looked in front of him, his past played out in front of him. All the good times he'd spent with Italy. To the left side he caught sight of two little children, one wearing a dress handing a child dressed in black, gold and white a broom. On the right side, a grown man with blonde hair wearing a black cape with a black and gold hat as well as a little black and white costume stood there and held his hand out to. . . A boy, his hair was brown with a curl in it and his eyes were also brown but he usually kept them closed, he usually wore a blue uniform with black belts around him. The boy walked in to the mans arms hugging him tight and then he caught sight of Ludwig. For a moment it was like he was looking at a stranger and then he recognised who it was. It took him a second, but he walked over to the German and smiled.
"Germany. . . It's time to go. . ." He commented in his Italian tone of voice. Feliciano then offered his hand and Germany took it without hesitation. He walked off with Holy Rome and Italy.
It turned out Germany never woke up when he'd had his eyes closed. He just died. It's just so cold. . .