ARG! I just had to, I'll get to my over stories soon I promise! I just love these two, and they wouldn't leave me alone! Plus, this song. This friggin song. Anyway first Hetalia fic so... don't set me on fire with hatred if it sucks. but they are too cute ya know? non beta so... so yea.
GuyxGuy, duh.
Oh and disclaimer and all that. I have the DVDs tho!
The light pattering of the rain on the windows didn't bother Feliciano, not in the slightest.
He'd learned by now to not run from thunderstorms, because if he ran who would he run to?
He left Germany long ago, with trembling hands and a promise to meet again, but never the less he'd still left. The small Italian pulled the covers around himself more security, clutching the warm mug of coffee in one hand and his old iron cross in the other.
It hurt still, his scars from the war. Even after 60 years his shoulder still ached, and his eyes never seemed as bright anymore. While most of the countries had long since healed, others were still lingering. He had spoke to Japan a few times, but the long years had left them awkward, the conversations never lasted long. And Germany...
Shaking his head and swallowing to rid himself of the sudden tightness in his throat, he held the cross tighter.
His Germany had been in ruins, barley keeping up with all the money he had to pay back and all the rebuilding he had to do.
His Germany was broken up and had a wall separating him from his brother.
His Germany was all alone.
He should have been there, should have ignored Britain and America and everyone who didn't know Germany like he knew Germany and ran to his side and hugged him and never, ever let go because that's what friends do and he wanted to be so much more-
Raising the mug to his lips he took a lazy sip, ignoring the burn of the liquid sliding down his throat and leave a uncomfortable feeling in his chest. With numb fingers he let his hand fall from the cross to his lap.
But Germany was okay now. Better then okay in fact. Well, he was technically West Germany and Prussia was East but still, there wasn't a wall anymore and everyone says Germany is doing better than ever so...
So he hadn't really needed Feliciano at all.
But he never really did now did he? Feliciano was always the one saying I love you, always asking and giving affection. And Germany gave it back, with a blush and a stutter he gave back all the love and attention Feliciano forced on him.
But that wasn't his fault.
The German hadn't meant to cause this, he didn't make his best friend fall in love with him and then force him to leave.
"Italy... Feliciano, bitte, you can't stay here. You're not going to fight against Lovino are you?"
"Nien, I swear on my life, I won't ever harm you, you know that."
"It will be okay, I promise."
"I'll see you again, after all this is over ja?"
Okay, that last part he did do but still. It wasn't completely his fault. Maybe. Probably.
"Lovi is going to be so mad I spent the day like this..." Feli muttered to himself, lifting the covers up to unfold his legs.
Lovino was off helping his people, their people, and here he was hiding in a random home he owned in America reacquainting himself with the feeling of heartbreak.
He finished with his Italy-related duties for the week the second the world meeting had ended, and of course it was one of the rare ones were both him and Lovi were required to attend. Luckily he never sat anywhere close to his former best friend so he was left to sulk in mild silence. Lovi was loud enough for them both anyway. It had taken some amazing stealth and diversion on his part to avoid Germany afterwards, but after all this time he'd gotten very good at it. But still, the mere proximity of the man today had been enough to put him in a depression for the rest of the week.
If wasn't going to be a country today, he might as well clean his temporary home.
Brushing his hand across the coffee table in front of him, he set down the mug and moved to stand. Tripping over the blanket he caught himself and the arm of the sofa and slowly made his way to the kitchen. Last night's dinner dishes were waiting for him and he knew from experience that Lovi would be far less mad is he had a clean kitchen at least.
"Ve... It's so quite, music maybe?"
After a small battle with a unruly extension cord he managed to plug up a radio and switched it on while filling the sink with soapy water.
He tuned it to one of the few American stations he knew, and set on the dishes.
I know you think that I shouldn't still love you, Or tell you that. But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it where's the sense in that?
Stilling in his movements momentary, A small, if sad, smile came to his lips.
"I know this one! This is a perfect painting song, later."
Swaying slightly, Feli let his eyes close and sang along with this song whose lyrics were all too familiar.
I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder , Or return to where we were...
He sang this one a lot lately.
I will go down with this ship, and I won't put my hands up and surrender. There will be no white flag above my door , I'm in love and always will be...
Lovi hated it, but he always sang it quietly to himself when he stopped yelling.
I know I left too much mess and destruction to come back again, and I caused nothing but trouble...
"Idiota! If you miss the damn bastard that much why don't you go and see him. If he hates you then he hates you! Don't drag it out until the next war!"
I understand if you can't talk to me again, and if you live by the rules of "it's over" then I'm sure that that makes sense...
Lovi didn't understand that he literally couldn't face a Germany who hated him.
I will go down with this ship, and I won't put my hands up and surrender. There will be no white flag above my door , I'm in love and always will be...
He would always love Germany, and he'd rather run and hide then see the hatred in his beautiful blue eyes because he was useless and couldn't help him when he needed him.
And when we meet which I'm sure we will, all that was there will be there still...
It was funny, Feliciano thought, that he was the one breaking Germany's Promise to him.
I'll let it pass and hold my tongue, and you will think that I've moved on...
All Because he was too scared to go to him when needed, because everyone told him to let the German heal on his own. That he would just cause him more stress and problems and Germany was the last person who needed any more work.
I will go down with this ship, and I won't put my hands up and surrender. There will be no white flag above my door , I'm in love and always will be..
But it was all true what everyone said about him, and it was all painfully obvious that Italy had been nothing but a pain for Germany during the war so how could he possibly help after it was over? Germany would simply hate him more!
I will go down with this ship, and I won't put my hands up and surrender. There will be no white flag above my door , I'm in love and always will be...
He really didn't have a excuse for why he had been avoiding him for well, more than half a century, other than his own guilt and fear. If Germany hated him...
I will go down with this ship, and I won't put my hands up and surrender. There will be no white flag above my door , I'm in love and always will be...
He was just so, so sorry that he was useless and so very afraid, and he would be the first to admit that being afraid of someone you love didn't make any sense but there was no doubt he loved Germany. And Germany loved him, as a friend at least.
I will go down with this ship, and I won't put my hands up and surrender. There will be no white flag above my door , I'm in love and always will be...
"Well... He did before anyway vee... I wish-"
And his musing was cut off by the sound of timid knocking, so with a small squeak and a flick of his wrist he shut off the water and nearly ran for the door, his earlier sadness immediately replaced by curios excitement over who had come to spend time with him now.
But of course, the second the door was opened all forms of greeting were wiped from his mind all all he was left with was the ability to stare.
Because there, in his door step was Germany, His Germany, with and bouquet of a dozen red roses and a matching blush across his cheeks. The man shifted slightly, his eyes never staying on Feli's for long going to his hair and his own feet but always coming back to his wide amber eyes, and not a ounce of hate was seen in them.
In fact, Feliciano noted absently, they were the same bright blue that he remembered, only with a few more emotions swirling in them and... was that...?
"Ah... Hallo, Um these are for you and, well...-
Germany never did get to finish, because if Germany had showed up on his doorstep with flowers and that blush and that look in his eyes then there was no way he hated him, and the only logical response to that was to throw himself fully into the German and cry out every single apology he'd keep in since now in every language he knew.
Germany dropped the flowers, and nearly crushed the Italian against his chest, but the words he spoke were oddly soft, almost fearful.
"You... You won't run away this time Feli?"
And Feli never realized how much he had hurt his friend by simply not being there.
And his tears flowed with more fore then he thought possible and more pain than he ever knew he could let out rushed from his chest and into the air in the form of sobbing
"I thought you hated me! And I didn't want to cause you more problems so I just left you alone and I figured that you liked it better that way and I didn't- I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"
And Germany, ever patent, simply rubbed his back in the way only he could and maneuvered them back into the house and onto the sofa, nearly knocking over the long forgotten mug in the process of setting down the roses.
And he didn't know how long he sat with Feli hiccuping and crying into his shoulder and how many calming words he spoke into his ear but he was grateful for every second.
Because Italy didn't hate him, and he could fix what he was convinced was unfixable, if he did so delicately.
When Feli had finally calmed enough to just sniffles and the occasional whine, he pulled himself back to regal the German he was more or less sitting on.
His eyes held nothing but fondness and a hint of concern, and his hands were still rubbing comforting circles in his back, but it was the gentleness of it that caused him to break down all over again, crying a broken "You should hate me" into Ludwig's shoulder.
At that, Ludwig's eyes fell on the cross tangling with his own. With a hand that was most certainly not shaking he pulled it up, and gave it a few tugs to bring it to his Italian's attention.
Feli turned his head slightly, eyes puffy and glossy with tears but they stopped the moment they landed on the cross.
"So... have you given up then?" Ludwig prompted, given the cross another tug before letting it fall back into a tangled knot with his.
"Given...up?" Feli question, then realization dawned and his eyes lit up and lips curled, forming his first real smile in years.
Grabbing at the two pendants, he pulled until Ludwig's face was less than a inch away, and breathed his reply.
"Mai, e tu?"
" Nie."
And he had never seen the Germans eyes as bright as when their lips met.