There is a glorious City in the Sea.

America's talking endlessly, explaining why his idea of a giant robot will help stop global warming. It's a dumb idea but it was the only idea any one was bringing forward.

It made Italy sad and a few tears gathered in the corner of his eyes. They stung and the smell of sea salt permeated the air.

He swallows as England started arguing without and then the meeting went off track, again.

His throat was sore and it tasted like salt water, it almost made him gag.

He remembers being cradled by the water. Soft currents swaddling him, shaping him.

The Sea is in the broad, the narrow streets,

'Idiots' he thinks as France inserts his two-cents, something about England's eyebrows.

Looking down he shuffles through his papers and finds the one he was looking for.

He stands gaining some people's attention, but it's fleeting and the fight is more interesting. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Germany tense.

He dreams about it like a baby dreams about the womb and the mothers heartbeat, the moon the waves he feels it. It grows stronger and stronger and recently it is glued to his mind like covelant bonds.

He also feels his people and wonders what they will do when the water is upon them.

Ebbing and flowing; and the salt sea-weed

He stands and all eyes are on him as he stutters out his plans for cleaner energy. They stare at him surprised.

'Who is this?' they ask themselves? Not Italy, not Veneziano.

He lets words of gas reduction and electric cars and solar, and wind, and hydroelectric energy slip between his lips, often licked, and he can feel where he's bitten on them until they bled.

He pauses often, stumbling on words but he doesn't look up. Doesn't stop.

Sadia Arabia and Russia glare at him, imposing and towering, and his small stature makes him want to cower but he refuses to so he smiles shakily at them.

That brings him back and he remembers his people and floods and drowning. He can't let that happen, even though he's uncovered the truth about the sea. His grandfather found him by the ocean, he never knew his parents until he found out. They were apart of him, his parents, formed by earth and shaped by water. He knew them intimately.

Clings to the marble of her palaces.

Their stares suffocate him and he's sweating salt. The smell stings his nose. Twenty voices explode all at once but he can feel the ocean pulling him.

"We can't –"

"Ruin my economy –"

"Italy! Are you even listening?"

The room is quiet and he is met with more angry faces than happy and others just don't care, but all eyes are on him.

His eyes were on the window, open the smell of ocean air wafting in.

He wants to be in the ocean.

He looks at the angry faces and forces himself to listen, hands made from the earth wringing each other.

The smell of salt permeating the air.

England wrinkles his nose, "Must be a draft."

He closes the window and Italy feels a connection snap and suddenly the faces become much sharper.

"Ve~" he breathes out and furrows his brow as he concentrates on the answers he had thought about.

He doesn't have them, his skin is crawling, the window, the ocean, the sea.

His nails are blunt and scratching his arm, making red lines across his arm.

Germany makes a move to grab his hand.

He turns, water goes up his throat and he pukes it out.

Onto the wall down his chin, colorless except hints of green bile and blood.

He starts coughing and he can't breathe, water is streaming down his nose more red with blood this time.

The sea is calling for him with vengeful claws pulling him violently. Breaking him so he can't breathe on land but he would drown in the water.

.

He was created by earth and shaped by the sea.

Tears stream down his face and they burn.

He collapses. He cries silently, choking on water bubbling in his mouth.

He cries for his people.

His veins are filled with water.

People are screaming.

He is drowning. Shaking.

Dissolving.

Nothing but earth and water.

.

.

.

There is a glorious City in the Sea.