AN: Another short one. Sorry for not updating sooner; I've been super busy.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia, nor do I own the song "In Italia"
Sei nato e morto qua, sei nato e morto qua, nato nel paese delle mezze verità
You're born and you die here, you're born and you die here, born in this country of half truths
They didn't choose this life. They were born into it. That's how it worked; if you were family, you were in. And if you were in, there was no getting out.
Feliciano hated it. He hated the secrecy, the killing, the drugs. He hated the half-true, half-venom lies whispered in the darkness. He hated the weight of the gun in his hands. He died a little bit more inside whenever he had to lift that weight. In killing others, he was slowly killing himself. And he didn't know how much longer he could take it.
Lovino loved it. He loved the feeling of a gun in his hand. The cold, smooth metal against his skin made him shiver in excitement. He loved the power. The power to take whatever he wanted, be it their money, their sanity, or even their life. He loved the secret plots formed in darkness and curling cigar smoke, just so long as they weren't directed at him. If they were, he loved to thwart those plots. Because he was at the top, he was able to do so. And he loved being at the top of it all.
They were born into it, and they would die in it. Whether by old age or at the point of a gun, they would die in this underground world of deceit.
AN: That first line… *snicker* "I didn't choose the thug life, the thug life chose me"
They're talking about the mafia life, in case you didn't get that.
And yeah, I know I put two lines together when each of these chapters is supposed to be about just one. But really, she says the same thing twice and then says something similar, so I just lumped the lines together. So sue me (kidding, please don't)
