The man was there again. Just like every other morning and every other evening. Every morning the copper haired man told me a good morning and every morning, as I walked home from work, he gave me a smile and told me good evening. I can't remember when he arrived at the bus stop outside my work building. He just showed up one day, sitting on the little step with his pencils, his sketch book and his scruffy little bag. His eyes shone at me in the morning and they twinkled at me in the evening. I questioned the people at work about him but they all said they didn't know him.

He was dirty and skinny and quite obviously living on the streets but he never asked me for any money. He never even looked at me hopefully. The copper haired man seemed just so surreal even though I was watching him get thinner and thinner as the days went by. At night I would fret about where he was sleeping and whether he would be eating. I tried to ignore him but every morning I would still end up muttering a rushed "guten tag". The copper haired man never demanded anything of me, he never asked for my guilt but he still ended up making me feel guilty anyway. It wasn't my fault he was sleeping on the streets… but somehow it felt like it was. The only time we ever really spoke was when he stood for the first time to greet me as I was coming home from work one day. I had thought that he was finally going to ask me for some money and I paused in my steady walk, knowing I didn't have any. I had forgotten to take my lunch so I had used all the cash I had to buy myself a potato salad from the small cafeteria. I began to panic, but he only smiled at me. He was carrying his sketch book under his arm. In his hands was a piece of paper he must of ripped out. He offered me the slip of paper and I took it from his hand. Our hands briefly touched and I had to suppress a gasp. His hands were warm despite the chill in the air. I worried for a second that he had a fever before looking down at the piece of paper and almost mistaking it for a mirror. There I was, imprinted on paper at this man's hand. Each line perfectly set, my features frowning, but calm. This was what I saw when I looked in the mirror every morning and somehow he had managed to capture than, turn it to lead and print it back out on this soft paper of his.

"Th-this is…" I was at a loss for words. How do you describe the indescribable? "Amazing" finally I breathed. I looked back up at the copper haired man and he was smiling contagiously at me. I smiled back at him.

"It's a thank you" he said, almost proudly. His accent? Where was his accent from? "I really appreciate the way you say good morning every day. It really makes me happy" My cheeks roared to crimson at his words. Nobody had ever said anything so sincere to me in my whole life. It felt like he was speaking from the very bottom of his soul. I look back down at the drawing of me. It must of taken him days to draw this. The gesture was so amazing, I didn't know what to say. Never had anyone bother to spend days on something for me.

"It really is beautiful. You're a great artist mister…" I trailed off hoping that he would finish my sentence. I suddenly wanted to know his name. I wanted to know who he was.

"Vargas. Feliciano Vargas" he held his hand out to me and we shook hands. Obviously this man hadn't been born into street life. He was such a well bred individual.

"My name is Ludwig Bachmerier" we shook hands and found myself noticing his tiny features. The way his hair was dirty. The way he held himself unconsciously tall. I was quite a bit taller than he was, but we still looked around the same age. If I hadn't already noticed it every morning and every evening since he had shown up I was definitely noticing it now. The copper haired man was beautiful. It was just blatantly obvious. With his bright golden eyes and features moulded like clay. Light skin and impervious smile, he was breathtaking simply as a person. I blushed again, just for thinking about it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Ludwig" his smile was huge, but my time was running out. I had to get home, I had paper work to do. I let go of his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, but I really need to get home. I am sorry" he apologised and sincerely as he could manage but Feliciano still looked hurt. He covered it quickly with a smile. He nodded, without a word. I tried to give him back the piece of paper with my frown sown into its being but he held up his hands.

"No, it's for you. I want you have it" I must of looked surprised because for a second his cheerful demeanour faltered and he looked truly hurt. "You don't want it?" My heart leapt in my throat as I realised how stupid I'd been. I waved my hands frantically. I thought I was going to faint I was so sorry.

"Nein! I apologise. I didn't mean to offend you. I just thought you would want to keep something so precious" the words slipped out without my permission but I supposed that they knew what they were doing because Feliciano grinned thankfully.

"Sì, sì. Thank you, Ludwig" I didn't know what in earth he was thanking me for, but I nodded anyway. By this point I just wanted to go home and scream into my pillow at how much of a fool I was making myself out to be.

"You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow" still holing the piece of paper in his hand he quickly waved to the copper haired man, who he had decided was Italian, and swiftly walked off. Feliciano waved back to him, before settling back down on his step to catch the last of the evening sun.

Time passes as always

A lot of people have told me that I am not a very open person and I happen to agree with them. On the whole, in hate people and enjoy my solitude, but, also on the whole, I have never craved two simple words more in my entire life. I am convinced the only reason I even go to work is to hear Feliciano tell me good morning and good evening. I kept the picture he had drawn for me folded up in my wallet. Everyday I find myself reaching for it more and more. I could see him sitting there all day from my office as I sat at my desk. Sometimes he would get up and go to the bathroom, but he would always come back soon enough. Sometimes he would stop drawing or whatever he would be doing and just stare off into space, this cloudy expression on his face. I hated the way I didn't know what he was thinking about. I hated that he never changed his clothes. I hated how I never saw him eat anything.

"Mr Bachmerier!" I spun my chair around to greet the young voice. "I need help!" A young boy was rushing towards me. His glasses were askew and his blond hair ruffled. The boy's name was Mathew, he was the son of one of my coworkers, a man who had never really gotten the hang of being a papa. Sometimes his son would come into work with him. Normally children weren't aloud to be in the office but Mattie was an exception. He was so quiet barely anyone noticed him. Of course they were noticing him now.

The young boy was on the verge of tears and without even standing I scooped him up into my arms. Mattie was a pretty light weight figure and he was pretty easy to hold. It helped that I did weight training. He buried his head into my shoulder. The boy was one of the few people that actually appreciated me as a human. I'm what many people would call intimidating.

"What's wrong?" I asked tentatively. The boy was usually so quiet, this strange outburst couldn't of been without good reason.

"I ca-can't find my p-papa" he stuttered out, now crying. He was going to get my shirt wet. I stood up quickly. I could just tell that he was about to start wailing. I rushed out of the building while the boy continued to stutter about all sort of things. He seemed to be stuttering ridiculously loudly.

"Hey, Ludwig. Would you shut up that kid already!" Stupid Roderich. Lazy overpaid bastard. I glare at him as I walked by. Soon me and Mattie were out in the cloudy sunshine. It'll probably rain later today. I could smell it in the air.

Mattie had tears streaming down his face, but I still had no idea why. I'm not a very comforting person. I don't know how to comfort people. All I had under my belt is a temper and a permanent bad mood. I have to admit though, I had a soft spot for the kid.

I held Mathew above my head and looked at him. The boy was frantically trying to wipe away his tears but only seemed to be smearing them across his red, puffy cheeks.

"Okay, Mathew. Use your words and tell me what happened" I looked at him seriously for a second before setting him down on the steps and sitting down next to him. Very slowly I got a story out of him. Apparently he had gone to the bathroom, but when he had returned to his father's office he had found it empty of Francis, the boys father. He had waited for a while before going and looking around the building. When he still hadn't found his papa he had panicked and come to me.

I rubbed my temples, what could I do about this bothersome situation? I couldn't take Mattie back inside, Roderich would throw a fit, and I couldn't leave the kid alone and just get on with my day. Mathew was clinging worriedly to my sleeve and I realised I had left my jacket in my office. I shivered.

"Alright, Mattie. I know someone who can help us" I stood and took the boy's hand. Walking out to the front of the building where Feliciano was still sitting at his bus stop. "Feliciano!" I called out to him and he lowered his amber gaze from the sky to us. He looked largely surprised before grinning at us. It was obviously one of the days that he had tried to freshen himself up. I guess he would be able to take showers at the beach. His hair had no dirt in it and his eyes were just a little brighter.

"Ludwig" he beamed at me and Mathew. He didn't rise to greet us and instead waited for us to come to him. "Ciao"

"Feli, I need you're help" he must of noted the slight panic in my voice because he instantly frowned.

"What can I do?" Another thing I liked about him, he was so unquestioning.

"Have you seen a man go by recently?" If anyone had seen where Francis had gone it would be Feliciano. He sits here everyday, he would of noticed. I'm sure of it. He suddenly smiled at us.

"Of course I saw a man go by, Ludwig. This is a sidewalk" I frowned and inwardly groaned. Damn he was dense. Mattie giggled at his remark.

"Well, a very specific man. Tall, blond, very blue eyes" Feliciano frowned for half a second, thinking, but then he lightened proudly.

"He walked by about an hour ago. He was swaying and stuff. I though he was drunk or something" Feliciano shrugged and looked to the kid. "Was that your papà?" The kid nodded, shy towards the other man.

"Oui"

I smiled a little smile knelt down. I took the boy's hands and looked him in the eyes. I hoped it comforted him.

"I'm going to go back inside now, so I can call your other papa, okay? Can you stay with Feliciano? I assure you he is very nice, he might even show you some of his drawings if your good" I was taking a risk, and I guess I was sort of leaving Feliciano out of the negotiation, but I didn't think he would mind. I also doubted that he would kidnap the Mathew. He was just one of those completely harmless types.

Mattie hesitated, looking briefly to Feliciano who just smiled at the boy. He nodded and the other man reached out his hand. Mathew took his soft looking hand and promptly sat down beside him. I paused for a moment watching them. Feliciano brought out another sketch book out of his bag and handed it Mathew. In seconds they had become the best of friends.

I smiled and turned to go back into the building. It didn't take long to find Francis' address book. It was jammed between an empty bottle of gin and a box of tissues. I knew that he and his partner were separated. Arthur used to work here, but after Francis became an alcoholic he decided to take their two boys and get out of there. Unfortunately for the more responsible parent Francis had decided to cover his raging addiction for a few weeks and fight for custody. Somehow he had gotten his hands on Mattie. Hopefully this would be enough for Arthur to get full custody.

After calling Arthur who was rightfully enraged I headed back down to Feli and Mattie. There were three doors that lead out of the building. The door out the front that was for clients only and the two doors on both sides of the building for deliveries and workers. The first door was the door that me and Mattie came out of first, but this time I came out the second one. I had to go towards the pair from behind.

"Why are you sitting here?" I could just hear Mathew asking the question and I heard Feliciano pause. I stopped walking and listened close, wondering how he would answer.

"I like sitting in the sun"

"But, you always sit here, even when it's cold"

"Well, I don't have a lot of money, you see, so I don't have anywhere else to be and I think that if I don't have anywhere to be I should be somewhere where I get to look at the sky"

"Why doesn't someone just give you money?"

"Some people do, but this is a mess and when messes happen and you can't clean them up you just gotta keep living, which is what I'm doing. Here in the sun"

I lean on the pole next to me. I want to hit something. I want to yell at him. He's not keeping on living, he's starving to death. Still I don't. It's none of my business. Instead I go and sit down next to them to wait for Arthur, keeping my internal rage internal.

Time passes in that continual way.

When Arthur arrived he quickly took his tear stained boy. He thanked me and Feliciano hurriedly. Their other son, Alfred, was in the car as his twin hugged our legs before getting in the car. Feliciano had risen to greet the car when I pointed it out to him and now we stood together watching it disappear down the street. I was going to punch Francis the next time I saw him. Leaving his kid like that. I was enraged.

"Thank you, Feliciano. I really owe you one" he turned and grinned at me. He tried to cover it but I could see him shaking with just the exertion of standing. I wondered if her would make it through the night.

"It's perfectly fine" I wanted to shake him. How was being too exhausted to stand up straight fine? How was being so starved that they can't move fine? What about his whole situation was fine?

I shook my head, in silence. I didn't know how to voice my rage so I simply turned to go back to work.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Feli" I didn't get two steps before he grabbed my sleeve.

"Wait" his voice was faint and weakened by fatigue. I turned just a he fell. I watched his eyes close and his expression become one of pain. I caught him in my arms, but he only lay against my chest, barely breathing.

Then, of course, I completely lost my mind.

Author's note

I really enjoyed writing this and I hope that you enjoyed reading it. I love the Germany and Italy pairing and hope to continue off this soon.

On a disappointing note I don't own hetalia or any of the characters.

Faithfully yours,

Clementine