Holy Roman Empire left.
And that was the end of Italy's first love.
How many years since it passed? Italy could no longer remember the date. If he was being really honest with himself, he didn't even remember the kiss too much. Nor he did remember his last memories with Holy Roman Empire. They said that you don't remember the last time you kissed someone, because you never guessed that the kiss would be the last…
It was now 2015. I had been over 200 years since Holy Roman Empire left and promised Italy that they would see each other again after the war was over.
Italy might not remember the kiss perfectly. But he remembered Holy Roman Empire's words.
I've loved you since the 900s…
The Italian shut his eyes tightly as he recalled the painful memory. Holy Roman Empire loved him for almost a thousand years. He had loved him for so long—so long that, perhaps, 200 years were nothing compared to how long he had loved him.
Holy Roman Empire is no more…
But that couldn't be true, right? Holy Roman Empire was strong. But Grandpa Rome was strong too and he was still fall in the end. Italy closed his eyes once again. Dark engulfed his vision, but his ears were still able to hear the sound of wind outside. Wind in Venice always sounded so reassuring, so familiar… Perhaps Acqua Alta was coming earlier this year. He might not master geography and had deep understanding about weather, but somehow he could feel it.
Maybe it was because he was North Italy.
Only on moments like this, on moments when he was remembering memories of hundred years ago, that Italy could fully grasp the weight of being a country. Most of the times, he was having too much fun. With pasta, football, and pretty girls adorning his life, why wasn't he? Italy gazed at the gloom, grey, and rainy sunset on the distance. Venice was never really pretty when it was blanketed with grey.
Italy was ready to wrap himself in blanket again when he heard the doorbell rang. He almost fell from the bed he was on. After fumbling messily, the auburn-haired man finally able to stand up. "One minute!" he shouted at the door as he tried to make himself looked more presentable after a daylong of lazing around.
He opened the door to a tall-figure with blond hair and blue eyes. Italy's smile was blooming, but the man in suit underneath his slightly damp long coat didn't seem to be at least half as happy as the Italian was.
"Germany!" Italy sang, spreading his arms to hug his guest.
Germany let Italy buried his face on his chest, wondering whether the coat's buttons around his chest would make Italy less excited in hugging him. But the shorter man didn't seem to mind. After almost a full minute of letting Italy rubbing his face to Germany's chest, the blond man gently pushed Italy away.
"Have you been spending your day with siesta again, Italy?" he grunted, but carefully closed the door behind him, as the wind of the upcoming storm had started blowing.
"Si!" Italy answered cheerily before hugging Germany's arm, when the taller man was only halfway removing his heavy-looking long coat.
"Mein Gott, not again. And in this economy, you can still allow yourself to siesta…" Germany grumbled, more to himself, and Italy didn't seem to care because he was still busy hugging Germany's left arm.
"Germany, let's eat pasta for dinner! What kind of pasta do you want? Let's eat it with something that has red meat! My brother gave me this really amazing red wine from Southern Italy last week! You should try it!" Italy chirped enthusiastically. For the first time since they met that day, Germany smiled, albeit a little. He patted Italy's head and nodded.
"Alright. But let me get out of coat and suit first. You can start with the pasta."
"Ve! Si, Captain!" Italy saluted before disappearing to the kitchen.
When their dinner spaghetti was finally al dente, the small rain had started pouring outside. Italy insisted that Germany sit instead of helping him with the sauce. Germany didn't mind, though from the look on his face, Italy could see that Germany thought something was off with him today.
Well, who wouldn't act a little strange if they spend their whole day thinking about your long lost love?
To complicate the matter, your long lost love happened to look very similar with the person who was sitting on your dining room—if only that long lost love was given chance to grow up to twenty-first century.
When Germany asked whether he could fill his waiting time with checking his email on his iPhone, Italy nodded. Taking off his eyes from the saucepan in front of him, the Italian eyed the muscular man on his dining table dreamily. Germany was truly a sight to sore eyes. Most people think Germany was intimidating and too serious. But Italy was blessed to get to see Germany with his tie loose, hair rustled, and emotion clearly displayed on his face. As his guest muttering something about helping Greece as the strongest economic nation in Europe, Italy chuckled. His chuckle made Germany stopped tapping his iPhone angrily and looked up at the Italian.
"What's so funny?" he pouted a little, perhaps slightly embarrassed, his 'f' in 'funny' sound too much like 'v'.
"Ve? Nothing," Italy chuckled once again. "I'll get the wine from my brother!" And he went to cellar after turning off the stove from now fully cooked sauce.
The cellar was darker than the rest of his house and the rain sounded so much more haunting down there. Italy crept slowly, wondering why he put the new wine furthest from the cellar door, but then he realised that happened because his cellar was full of so many amazing wine that he couldn't help but to put the new ones on the end.
Should he took one bottle only? Or perhaps two? Italy wanted to share this tasty wine with Germany. Beside, he had to reduce the size of his wine collection, anyway. What could be better way to do it than sharing his finest bottles with someone he truly like?
Grabbing the neck of his first wine bottle slowly, Italy smiled sadly. Though wine had existed in Italy since Greek colonization era, there were more and more delicious Italian wine as years go by. Holy Roman Empire didn't get to enjoy things that weren't invented back then. He didn't get to enjoy movie. He didn't get to enjoy electricity. He didn't get to enjoy spaghetti with Italy on this rainy evening, with wonderful wine from Southern Italy…
When Italy realised it, his cheeks were already wet. Storm made him sentimental. Being in a dark, cold place alone made him sentimental. Being so close to someone who would look so much like Holy Roman Empire made him sentimental. But it wasn't Germany's fault that he was so amazing that Italy couldn't help but to think that Holy Roman Empire could grow into someone like Germany—if only he didn't leave for that long war…
Funny thing was Italy went to war himself. He went to war, but he wasn't alone. He was with Japan. He was also with Germany. They lost, but they survived somehow. Why didn't Holy Roman Empire survived? Was it because he went to war alone?
Italy didn't realise that he was down there for so long that Germany came to get him. The blue-eyed man was touching his shoulder gently, but even the most gentle touch made Italy so surprised that he dropped the wine he held.
"Nooo!" he squeaked sadly. "Fratello's vino…!"
Germany was just as surprised, but he seemed to be more concerned with Italy than with the dark liquid spreading on the floor now. "Are you okay, Italy? I'll get something to clean it up." And before Italy could say anything else, Germany already left. As always, he was so swift and responsible. No wonder Italy felt so fond of him…