Blue Beads

South Italy, Romano

I'm the personification of southern Italy, Italia Romano! Blue usually stands for sadness right? Then that's a color I would like.

I'm the angry one. My fratello is always cheery and full of smiles. I always have a scowl on my face and I constantly cuss, whether it be English or Italian. It's really a fake.

At home, I'm still louder than my fratello, but cheerful stories about Germany and Japan aren't what I hear. They're stories of sadness. We've been through many things, but I've received the least. Spain always protected me. I was always hit last.

One day, we were called to see the Pope. He gave us a set of blue rosaries; one for each of us. Blue? Is it a sign of forgiveness? Happy for the eternal life that we have to live, enjoying the joys of our people because our people call themselves "Italian?" I guess so. The angry mask I wear is to protect my brother. Veneziano is the only one that knows.

All the other nations think our rosary beads are white. They don't see the true colors.

Blue. A color of happiness. It's a color I'd like.

END

Author's Note: IS it hard to believe I thought of this while at a rosary? My rosary is blue, and it just… happened. The white color for the rosaries the way other nations see them is because in fics with the brothers' having rosaries, they're usually white, made of crystal, or pearl. Romano's part ends this drabble fic. It's my first for Hetalia, too!

Music I listened to: Servant of Evil – Vocaloid – Len Kagamine (Anything from the Story of Evil is good for writing fics with a not so happy mood for me.)

DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING!(same for the first.)

Please Review! And no flames please!