Hey guys! This is the second chapter. What will happen? It's just a tad bit slow. but it changes to Germany's view point somewhere. I hope it's good.

I do not own Hetalia, sadly.

I woke up the next morning with dried up tears tracks on my face. Then I remember what I dreamed about. I felt as my heart formed another crack in it. I stood up and went to my bathroom. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, brushed my hair, and when I looked in the mirror my eyes were only a little red and my face was pale. I sighed and left the bathroom. I walked to my closet and pulled on my maroon shirt, black tie, and tan suit. I left and walked downstairs to get my brother so we could leave.

"Hey, idiot. Hurry up so we can leave for the meeting already," I said. I straightened out our papers and made sure we had everything I had prepared for the meeting. I scratched my forearm, then pulled my sleeves down.

"Fratello aren't you going to eat?" Veneziano asked. I looked up at him and his big amber eyes were swimming with worry. It wasn't real I knew.

"No. Are you done so we can leave?" I asked back, looking away and snapping the bag shut. I picked the bag up and just walked away.

"Ve~! You should eat something Fratello!" he shouted after me. I shook my head and just ignored him. He followed me and sat in the passanger seat. I threw the bag in the backseat and got into the drivers seat. I turned the car on and drove us to the building.

When we got there, I parked far away from the door. Veneziano jumped out of the car and ran to the building to go see the potato bastard. I rolled my eyes and got the bag from the backseat. I locked the doors and started walking slowly to the room. When I got there, everyone was already there. Veneziano was being fussed over by Spain. That hurt a little. Another crack in my heart formed. No one payed attion as I reluctantly took a seat next to fratellino. I put the bag on the table and then stared blankly at the table. Absently I started to scratch at my forearm again under my sleeve.

"Sud Italia, are you ok?" I heard a gruff voice ask from beside me. I looked up from the table and saw Germany looking at me with concern. He wasn't concerned for me either. Only for the well-being for the country as a whole. No one actually cared about me, only the country I represented.

"Fine, you potato bastard," I snapped back, hate evident in my voice. I really had no reason to hate him, as he never did anything to my and he called me South Italy in my own language. He just didn't care about me at all, as no one did.

"Then why are scratching your arm till it bleeds and staring at the table?" he asked. I shrugged and stopped scratching. I pulled my sleeve down and turned away from him. He sighed and called the meeting to order. I didn't pay attention to any of it. When it was fratellino and I's turn, he went while I did nothing. He didn't even ask. When he was done, everyone told him how well he did on it. It's not fair because I did that presentaion. I did it! Not fratellino! I faught the tears easily, as it wasn't the first time that this had happened.

After the meeting, I packed everything up as fast as I could. I could hear Spain with Veneziano again. Noone talked to me anyways. I was supossed to be used to it, so why was this so difficult to do? I clenched my fist, but that disrupted the skin on my forearm that I was scratching earlier. I felt as blood ran down my arm and dripped off me and onto the floor. My own body hated me and wanted to go away.

"Sud Italia! What did you do?!" I heard Germany right next to him and before I could do anything, he grabbed my wrist and pulled my sleeve up to see why there was blood there. My entire forearm was bleeding from the scratch marks. He dragged me to the bathroom and turned the faucet on, gently putting my forearm under the running water. It stung, but not as bad as it should've. I took the pain in as a good thing. No one wanted me anyways. "What were you thinking Italy?!"

I froze, as he called me what so many people called fratellino. No he didn't mean it. He only called me that because he's used to Veneziano doing stupid things, and ending up hurting himself. A single tear ran down my face as I pulled my arm from Germany's grip and I looked up at him.

"I'm not my fratello, so don't treat me like I am," I said, fighting as sobs tried to escape from my throat. I ran away from him and to my car. I unlocked it and threw myself into the driver's seat. Starting the car, I drove carelessly out of the parking lot. I almost got hit in the process, but I don't care. Let them hit me. I drove as fast as I could to my house and turned the car off. I ran into the house and up to my room. My arm was bleeding the whole time but I didn't care. I locked my bedroom door and threw myself on my bed. The person that actually didn't call me my brother's name, had called me by what everyone calls him. He yelled at me, like he does to Veneziano. I felt my heart finally break into pieces. Why does this happen to me?!

"I'm not my fratello, so don't treat me like I am," Sud Italia said as I saw he tried to hold in sobs. Before I could do anything, he ran away from me. I sighed and walked back to the meeting room. I'll try to talk to him once he calms down a little bit. I walked through the door and was imediatly attacked by a different Italian.

"Doitsu! Where were you? Can we go get something to eat? Maybe pasta?" Italy was rambling again. He kept going on about how much he loved pasta. I stopped listening to him and pushed him off of me and got up off the floor.

"Whatever. Just stop going on and on about it. Mien Gott," I said. He pouted but grabbed my hand and dragged me off to his favorite restaurant. I pulled my hand from his grasp. He pouted again, but I just rolled my eyes.

"What's the matter Doitsu?" he asked, his amber eyes going wide. I shook my head. He pouted yet again and dragged me into the restaurant. He ordered for both of us in rapid Italian. He turned back to me said, "I'm worried about fratello, Doitsu. He hasn't been himself lately."

"Really?" I asked, in surprise. So it wasn't just today that the Italian seemed off. He nodded.

"Last night he had a nightmare, but he wouldn't tell what it was about, and he doesn't eat a lot. He's says he's not hungary. Ve~! I'm just worried and he won't tell me anything," he whined and he pouted for a fourth time. As I thought about the Italian, I realised just how worried I was. And I realised how much I like him. I might be falling for him. How would the Italian take it? He didn't like me one bit. Oh, Scheiße.

Did you like it? Please let me know! :)

Romano: Why is the potato bastard trying to help me?!

Veneziano: Oh don't say that, fratello! He's not that bad! Ve~!

Romano: Che. Whatever. He better not come any closer.

Me: Why what would you do?

Romano: *grumbles and just walks away* Whatever.

Veneziano: Ve~! You don't think Doitsu's bad, do you?

Me: Not at all Vene, not at all. :)

Veneziano: Ve~! Yay~!

Me: HaHa bye guys!

Veneziano: CIAO~!