Italy collapsed on his bed, letting the tears roll down his face.
"I'm not weak, am I?" He asked himself as he hiccuped, hugging a pillow close to his chest. He rolled over on his bed and looked out the window. The night sky looked so peaceful.
"How can something so vast; that has seen so much hatred and torture, still be as beautiful and peaceful as that?" He wondered.
China had beaten Italy today, and of course, Germany got mad when he had to go save his Italian ally again.
"Ita, why can't you just train and become stronger? Then, maybe you wouldn't get beaten up so much." The voice echoed in his head.
The tears rolled faster and faster, even Germany thought he was weak. It was days like today, times like now, that Italy allowed himself to be sad, and to cry. Around everyone else, he had to be the pasta-loving, naive, happy little Italian that everybody knew and loved. Because, maybe if he was happy around them, then they'd be happy too, and everyone wouldn't fight so much anymore. He didn't want to fight. Never again did he want to go through the pains of war. He had lost so many soldiers, and just watching his friends slowly fall apart, and not being able to do anything about it. It was the most horrible feeling in the world. He let the tears roll faster and faster, falling asleep with tear-stained cheeks.
The Holy Roman Empire sat on Italy's bed. It pained him seeking his little Italy like this, so broken and torn up inside. He wished he was still alive, so that he could be there for him. For now, the best he could do was watch over him, and protect Italy as long as he could.
Italy began to shake.
"No… no… don't… hurt Germany… no… Germany…" tears began falling down the Italian's face once more.
Holy Rome frowned, rubbing his hand across Italy's cheek.
"It's okay Italy, it's okay…" He soothed, watching the Italian's face slowly relax.
He hated seeing Italy in so much pain. He hated the fact that he had to hide so much, and deceive so many. But, this was the life he had chosen for himself, so Holy Rome was going to be there for him every step of the way.
"…Holy…Rome…" Italy mumbled in his sleep, a smile had danced across his lips.
Holy Rome smiled, standing up. It was time for him to go, but he never stopped watching over Italy. And when he needed it most, he was there. He was always there. Because if not for that, then what are guardian angels for?
A/N: Real quick message here. I wrote this when I first joined the fandom, so that's why this is a bit OOC, and doesn't follow the (seemingly canon) idea that Germany is HRE. But, this story was way too cute to not upload. I hope you enjoyed it!
-Vic