A/N: Good evening everyone, and Happy 4th of July! (Even though this has nothing to do with that holiday, haha.)
Please enjoy! :)
I don't own Hetalia.
She was so beautiful. Everything about her was perfect. She would lie carelessly in the field of flowers, gently poking at the petals. A smile would come to her face when she looked at me, lively and giving, motioning for me to come lie with her.
Hesitantly, I would. She would laugh at me playfully as I shifted uncomfortably next to her in that perfect field. "Holy Roman Empire," she would call me, her large brown eyes glistening in the sun. She was usually so scared of me. I always would enjoy the times she wasn't.
Her features were rounded and gentle. With the sun's gentle rays brushing her complexion, small freckles would appear on the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. She would touch her nose to a scarlet tulip, liking the texture of the flower; her eyes would close softly, long eye lashes curled charmingly upwards.
"Italia," what a angelic name for her. With such purity and sweet intentions, she could make any name sound absolutely perfect. How could anyone want to hurt such a precious girl? Surely no one could. Besides, she was a lover, not a fighter. A kind girl of an innocent nature.
"Italia, why won't you come live with me?" I ask softly. She suddenly looks disappointed. Worry fills her eyes, looking daintily at the ground. She finally looks up as wind dances through her soft strands of hair.
"I can't." She quietly says, looking into my eyes.
Ambush. The crushing reality.
"We can be so strong together," I start, watching her sensitivity fill her eyes. "I can protect you Italia..."
She looks extremely upset. No, please don't cry. I never want to make you cry. I'm an absolutely horrible person. Why did I bring it up?
She solemnly shakes her head. "We can't."
Silence.
A next scene flashes, whisking away that illusion with darkness.
My precious Italia is crying.
Please don't cry dearest. "Hush," I quietly tell her, "I will be back. Don't you worry."
She continues to cry, gentle tears strolling down her face. Worry takes over her expression, cries turning into sobs. I can't do anything. I can't tell her that I can stay. I can't ease her pain with lies.
"Please stop crying. I love you, Italia, I love you." I say to her. She stops crying for a moment and looks at me painfully.
"I love you too, Holy Roman Empire." She says to me.
A kiss. Or one might say it was a promise for me to come back to her.
A promise that supposedly never came true.
Many years later.
This boy, who is he? He looks so familiar. Oh well. Surely someone as weak as him couldn't possibly be within my socialization.
Italy? North Italy, a descendent of the great Roman Empire? No, that can't be. This boy is weak and cries too much. His complexion is too soft and too beautiful to be strong and tough like the great Roman Empire. Absolutely not!
It's awfully - and I mean absolutely strange how fast he begins to grow on me. I capture him, and he appreciates it! What kind of joke is this? It's absolutely ridiculous. Those big brown eyes aren't helping anything either. Why would someone actually want to hurt him in the first place? It would be completely useless. He's too kind and carefree. Sure not a soldier at all.
Friends. I never had many. But he became one of mine. An ally was now added to me.
"Feliciano." The name has a ring to it. So familiar, so touching. It makes me feel as if I'm not so lonely anymore. Weird, isn't it? I myself don't understand. For some reason I didn't feel the need to.
Soon enough, World War two came and ended.
I was done for.
I never wanted this to happen.
He wanted it though.
He ruined my life. He ruined everything. He caused too many deaths of innocent people.
Feliciano was forever in fear. He would cry silently. Painful glances were made at me. Countless times Feliciano would merely collapse in my arms, sobs coming from his torn voice. It was all my fault.
He would tell me otherwise.
"I know you. You are not your leader. He is the one causing this, not you. Please, don't look so upset..."
Feliciano's voice was hoarse and tired. Despite this, he would muster up the strength to smile at me sometimes. I tried to do the same, but I was too weak.
He was the strong one. I was wrong, completely wrong. All this time I was blinded.
Please, oh please let me tell him how wonderful he is. I don't know where I would've been without him. Someone out there please, please let him smile again. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve this beautiful person in my life.
Feliciano is my grace, my faith, my love, my happiness, my hope, my everything. You take away him, I am nothing.
No, please no; He's dying, bleeding within my arms. I can't do anything. I can't lie and tell him everything is alright. I can't expect a miracle. There's nothing left. I've failed you Italia, I've failed you...
"I wanted too..." he mumbles, confusing me. He wanted to what? "I wanted to be with you and live with you..."
Who? What is he talking about?
"Holy Roman Empire. My love..."
"You came back."
Bewildered. I don't understand. Who is he talking about? Who is the "Holy Roman Empire?" Was he talking about me?
"Just like you promised."
My vision grows blurry as physical and emotional pain rips at my feelings. I cry silently, rocking him back in forth in my arms. Someone please save him, just save him, I can't protect his innocent nature any longer.
Blood is drained from our bodies. Cold nips at our last breaths.
"I still love you." He says to me, looking into my eyes.
I cry harder. Still? what does he mean?
"I love you too. I've always loved you Italy." I reply weakly, strength all being used on holding his body.
He smiles. Much to my discontent, a little girl immediately gets pictured in my mind. She looks so familiar. Just who is she?
She is nothing but a hallucination. I'm sure of it.
Sudden blackness. Pure bliss, perhaps?
No more pain. Just silence.
No more freezing.
No more anything.
Sounds suddenly start to ring through my ears. Where are they coming from?
Mutters start to become clearer. "Vitals stabilizing. The patients are starting to pull out of critical condition, doctor."
"It seems as if one of them is waking up. Son, can you hear me?"
I look around. Doctors, nurses? A hospital perhaps? How did I get here?
I mumble a bit. I find myself not able to talk.
The doctor laughs, obviously not too worried about my inability to speak. It must have something to do with my condition.
As my vision becomes more clear, I began to gain my sense of feelings back. My whole body aches like hell.
The only thing that feels okay is my hand.
He's right next to me.
Italy, or Feliciano, doesn't matter. It only matters that he is in a separate hospital bed right next to mine.
What strikes me is that his hand is in mine. Our fingers are intertwined.
A warm pulse starts to flow through my body, a feeling that I'm alive again, a feeling of relief washing over me completely.
He was breathing. He was alive, he was okay. He was going to live. He was going to heal. He was going to smile again. No, I wouldn't have to be a nothing.
As those brown eyes start to flutter open, I smile, tears starting to stream from my eyes. It was absolutely lovely to see them.
He looks confused, but he smiles too.
That smile,
is no hallucination.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it~
If you guys liked it alright, I could do Italy's point of view. Please don't feel shy to ask if so! :)
