Yay! Another FF! :D /SHOT.
Anyway, I'm done with school now so I have more time to write. :D For those of you who care, I know I haven't put up a new chapter of never forgotten. I just haven't gotten to it. And now that I'm done with hidden accomplices (except for the sequel which I'm still writing up) I have more time for never forgotten. I just threw this little project in because I've wanted to write it since January SOOOO.
This WILL NOT be a long story, three to four chapters at most.
Random fact time: THE G8 SUMMIT MEETING IS BEING HELD MAY 26-27 IN DEUVILLE FRANCE. But this is off of memory, so don't trust me...
Also the italics means that it's a memory. There's no specific order to the memories.
Anyway, I don't own hetalia.
Enjoy~
Standing in the warmth of late spring, he held the flower tightly in his hand.
"I...guess I had a good day today..."
"..."
"Are you actually listening to me?"
"..."
He sighed and continued looking down. His eyebrows knitted together and he turned his head up to the sky, quietly praying to himself.
The man then turned his head back to what he'd been focused on before and got on his knees. He placed the white rose in the vase behind the tombstone.
As he put the delicate flower into the vase, he took a dead one out.
He sat in silence for a moment and then whispered, "...176 roses...176 days..."
Tears began to well up in his eyes.
Every day since that day, he'd put in a rose and take out a dead one. A bouquet of dying and lively roses were still in the vase. He made sure that there were always exactly eleven flowers in the pot because it represented the month that his true love had died in.
"176 days...without you..." The tears won and fell over his cheeks, wetting his face.
He broke down. He couldn't handle it. No matter how many times he came to the grave to see the giant slab of rock, he'd still never get over the fact that the one he truly loved with all of his heart was gone.
Without him.
But he knew that life had to move on like it always had. He stood up shakily and held the dead rose like he held the live one.
"T-Ti amo...Lovi...I miss you so much..."
And he walked away, tears still in eyes as he remembered his now-dead brother.
Feliciano closed the front door behind him and walked up the stairs. This house smelled so new...yet it felt so...empty... He plopped down on his soft bed. He wished he could just shut his mind off. Shut it off so that nothing reminded him of Lovino. The only problem with that: EVERYTHING reminded him of Lovino.
Everything from cooking, to sleeping, to just sitting and watching television.
He knew it had already been seven and a half months. He just...couldn't pull himself to let go. He wanted his brother back, his true love. But he knew...thinking about the truth hurt. He didn't want to accept the fact that Lovino was...dead.
They said that countries didn't die as easily as humans did. But the way he died...nothing living could have survived it.
He laid his head down on the pillow behind him and drifted off to sleep.
Running, running... Feliciano hummed to himself as he jogged during one of Ludwig's training sessions.
In the middle of his running exercises, a shot of pain seared through his body, then everything was cold...
Feliciano did not recognize the feeling, but he was fine now so it must have meant he just needed to take his siesta...
He moved a few feet away from the sidewalk they had been running on and sat beneath a shady tree. He closed his eyes and nodded off into his siesta.
He awoke to a deep voice. "ITALIA! YOU CANNOT JUST LAY DOWN WHEREVER YOU PLEASE! WHAT ON EARTH WOULD HAPPEN IF WE WERE IN REAL COMBAT?"
"Ve? Oh, I'm sorry Ludwig~ I'll try not to do it again~"
What's wrong? What is this?
"Good. Now, we still have half a mile left."
No. No...
"Wha? B-but Ludwig! I haven't had any pasta!"
DONT IGNORE THE SIGNS.
"Italy...you don't ALWAYS need pasta..."
GO TO HIM.
"But I do~!"
PLEASE? WHY DON'T YOU LISTEN?
"Ugh..."
He's gone now.
Feliciano's cell phone rang right then.
"Ciao~?" Feliciano said happily into the telephone.
Ludwig, watching the Italian's face, saw his features go from happy and smiling, suddenly to horrified and then to solemn and dark.
"A-are you sure...it's him?"
All the blood in his face had washed away and tears were rolling down his cheeks. What had caused such a reaction?
Feliciano hung up the phone and walked off in a dazed state.
"Italy...Feliciano? Where are you going? Feliciano?"
But Feliciano just continued walking, his mind only thinking of one thing: Lovino.
Feliciano woke with a start from the dream. It hurt...so terribly to renew that painful feeling of loss every single day...every time he fell asleep.
No. This couldn't go on. He'd do anything to get Lovino back. Anything!
Even if it meant going to one of his greatest feared countries...
Britain. (A/N: Oh crud guys...England's involved...it can only go downhill from here...)
Feliciano stood in front of the Englishman's door, hand hovering beside it. He wondered if he should knock. Maybe this was a bad idea. He could just go home now...
But his heart had different plans than his mind. Before he could rethink, his right hand rapped on the door one, KNOCK, two, KNOCK, three, KNOCK, times.
Oh no...maybe he isn't home? I could run as fast as I can...just pretend there's a whole army behind me, or I could-
Before Feliciano could finish his list of escape plans, a man with blonde hair, green eyes, and signature thick eyebrows stood at the door. "Feliciano?" England asked surprised to see the younger at his doorstep.
"H-hi Arthur..." Feliciano weakly muttered.
There was no turning back now...
In the warm Italian sun, Feliciano and Lovino laid together under a shady tree.
As Feliciano's head leaned toward Lovino's chest, Lovino felt his cheeks turn a tad bit red.
All the countries knew they were together and didn't exactly care (except for Antonio who could have SWORN that Lovino liked him...) Feliciano had tried to convince his brother of this many times before to no avail. The older of the two brothers was perfectly fine with holding his brother's hand or hugging him or even kissing him if they were by themselves. But if they were in public or in a place where someone could even coincidently walk by, it was a completely different story.
He really DID love his brother, he was just so afraid about what other people would say about it.
He shifted Feliciano a bit and leaned back against the tree.
If he lost him though...
Feliciano moved uncomfortably on Arthur's couch.
"What do you want, Italy?" the British man asked a little impatiently.
"W-well Arthur...um...you...you can do magic right?"
Arthur stared at him in confusion. "Yes but, what does this have to do with anything?"
Feliciano hesitated before saying, "Do you think you can bring someone back to life?"
He covered his mouth once it came out. And Arthur just looked at Feliciano as if he had just pulled a dancing clown on unicycle out of his back pocket.
Arthur then began to laugh...hysterically. As in, doubled over and crying from laughing so hard laughing.
Feliciano blushed from embarrassment. He stood up to leave and mumbled an apology. Suddenly Arthur stopped laughing. "Sit." he ordered. The Italian man did as he was told in confusion. He'd just laughed in his face! Why would he keep him here?
Regaining his composure, Arthur said calmly, "Of course I can bring people back to life..."
"Then why in all this stories do the people always say that they can't do that? And why don't you see people coming back from the dead all the time?"
"Well, people believe the stories and never ask to bring their loved ones back."
"Can you do it for me...bring someone back to life I mean..." Feliciano asked very cautiously.
Arthur leaned forward a little bit and said to the anxious Italian, "I will, but you have to lose something very important, understood?"
Feliciano felt a surge of happiness flow through him. "Ok! Yes! Anything!"
Arthur asked him, "You want Lovino back, right?"
It was that obvious?
Feliciano nodded. He watched as the Englishman pulled out a big dusty book. He said a few words that Feliciano didn't understand and put the book down when he was finished. "There." Arthur said afterwards.
Feliciano quickly stood up and said excitedly "Thank you!" and ran all the way home.
"I wonder how this'll turn out..." the English man said to himself after Feliciano left.
Feliciano tried to run inside of the house. "NO! NO! PLEASE LET ME GO IN! PLEASE!" he wailed out. Tears streaked his face and he was pulling against people who were much stronger than him.
Than a familiar voice came through his screaming. "Feliciano!"
Feliciano lessened his pulling on the men holding him. The voice speaking to him, he was pretty sure it was Antonio, but he couldn't tell because of the tears blurring his vision.
"You can't do anymore...it's over..." the Spaniard said in a defeated tone.
Feliciano then stopped all of his struggling and just stared at Antonio. He then fell into his arms, crying harder than he'd ever cried in his life.
Please, please, PLEASE be there... that's all that Feliciano wanted: to see his brother again. To feel his arms, to hear his voice...
He stood outside of his front door and took a deep breath...he was going to see his brother again...After all of that pain...
He took another deep breath to calm his speeding heartbeat, and opened the front door.
"Lovi?"
An empty echo.
"Lovino?"
His call had quieted, but the empty echo remained.
Feliciano knew that it would be pointless but he searched through each and every room just to come up short. The final room was his bedroom. "Lovi?" he asked nothingness. He closed the door and slid down. He curled his knees up to his chin and cried.
The thing he didn't notice through his search of the house was the dead white roses that he had put into a basket in the living room.
They had come back to life.
Yay~ anyway, hope you guys liked it. Next chapter will be up hopefully in the next 2-3 days (maybe longer, don't take my word) Everything will be sorted out by then~
Anyway, thanks for reading! Drop a review?