Feliciano
Certain it is, that some five or so weeks before this common day, Feliciano was already marked with a worn expression and other indications that signified that he had indeed given up his place in the world for his brother's sake. The previously unnoticeable scars that the younger had hidden from his brother using long-sleeved clothing and full attire in bed were now revealed as the younger silently pulled up his sleeve to show what had already been done, giving a darker aspect to the previously lightly-tanned skin.
As he nodded his head as sincerely as he could muster, his eyes, a deep shade of a classic amber, spoke out an uneven message along with his scarred body.
"Thank you... fratello."
He looked out upon serene scene that was revealed to his eye via the window, almost as an attempt to not look at his brother. Not for shame, nor pride but...
The pained expression on Lovino's face killed something inside him.
He pulled the sleeve back over the scars, reaffirming his gaze with his brother.
"Let's go home."
He spoke the words with a ghost of his previous personality, a fake bounce in it in regards to make his brother happy. Taking his brother's arm, he dragged him with on and out of the scarcely decourated hallway, only waiting until the sunlight breached their face to speak.
"You know that phrase 'live every day as if it were your last?'"
His brother's concerned gaze was identified and scarcely hid.
"I did... I always did. But, at some point, I stopped. And that was the most foolish decision of my life."
Lovino
Between the two brothers stood an awkward silence. Romano's lip twitched nervously, the expression masking Italy's face worrying him once again. The tension was broken as Feliciano brought his hand to his opposite sleeve. Slowly, his brother bunched up the cloth until it gathered upon his upper arm, revealing a collection of scars up and down Italy's arm.
Romano stood here, silent and expressionless. His hand, still tangled in the tufts of hair on the back of his head, slid down towards his brother, fingers outstretched. Lovino wanted to trace his brother's scars soothingly, then finally rip off every single damaged cell from Feliciano's arm, happily watching as a new set of porcelain skin would take its place upon his brother's arm. But Romano's stiff hand stopped mid-way to it's destination. His mouth gaped, his dry large eyes merely blinking at the horrific sight. During those few seconds, Romano thought to himself. Why? How? When?...but most importantly, WHO? His stupid little brother had scars lined up and down his arm that seemed to have claimed a permanent stay upon his brother's once perfect skin. These scars were not new. Surely there would be more, much more gruesome ones scattered throughout his body.
The oath that Romano swore to himself so many years ago - to make sure that Feliciano was safe - shattered with no hope of recovery. What a horrible big brother he was... a horrible, awful, terrible, shitty-
The sound of his brother's voice broke his trance. Feliciano's arm hid truth once again, and Romano met him eye to eye. The same question voiced itself over and over in his brain...Feliciano... Why? Why?... These came out as no more than whispers to the wind. They were now outside. The sun rays seemed to have burned Romano's skin. So much has happened, he felt as if he had been huddled inside for centuries. Feliciano's grip on Romano's arm fell loose, and Lovino was quick to grab his brother's weak fingers and grasp them in his own. What could he do now? All he could do is listen to his little brother's words...
Feliciano
Time seemed to ease on moral punishment throughout history. On the other hand, a penalty which, apparently back in the days of Prussia's dissolution, would infer a degree of mocking infamy and ridicule, might now be invested with almost as stern a dignity as the punishment of death itself. The Italian now knew this exception to the rule and embraced it with more courage than he had ever displayed in his life. That courage seemed to become more and more difficult to maintain however as the clocked ticked on knowing that basic fact; that each second was bringing him closer to his fate. What was the most effective to him wanting to turn back, turn back and not face his fears of death, was the sympathetic look on his brother's face. The one expression he wore that expressed more pain than any physical infliction one could cast on the body.
Yes, he would have to carry it all. All the weight of his loss, and the weight of Italy. It would all be on his shoulders. He knew he must support his elder brother now more than ever, preparing him for his own doom and giving him the potential to recover and rule.
Dark humour ran through his being at the irony; irony that is the younger showing the older how to move on, when he himself was on the edge of his sanity, fear driven from selfish and humble reasons alike.
At this time however, it would be foolish to break what he had asked his brother to do for him, so, he would smile.
Yes, he would smile and forget about the grim reaper waiting on the horizon for that horizon was five months yonder. He would be happy, living each and every day until then with everyone he called a friend. And standing next to him throughout it, would be his beloved brother.
What was done was done. What was to come would come. It was times like these where one must not concern what would happen to them and instead, focus on things one at a time, living in each moment to its fullest with no regrets or concerns.
He was weak. Weaker than he had ever been. He knew within a few weeks or months he would be bed-ridden, not able to support himself with the damage already done. None of that mattered right now though. All that mattered was his brother's warm hand gripping his, the sunlight reflecting off of their faces, and unspoken gratification and grief combined into one. Two brothers standing in the light marking the beginning of the end.
Feliciano closed his hand around his brother's, gripping as firmly as it would allow, pushing his weight onto his brother, but not daring to move out of the position.
"Fratello, I love you. I love you so much. "
His face turned to face his brother's with a certain degree of emotion. He offered a heart-warming and now sincere smile now, facing the other, the sun seeming to warm their hearts as well as their faces.
"Let's go home."
And upon saying those words, he just looked up into the sky as a flock of birds flew across the sky. A single white feather fell in their wake, standing out on the sidewalk with a certain air and light that made it radiate holiness. Eyes averting to quickly glance at it, he then returned his gaze to the heavens, speaking silent words in his mind aimed for only they to hear.
Thank you God, for everything.
