Elizaveta waited impatiently at the table, as Feliciano frantically paced the kitchen; it was quite a site in fact, to see the drastically different characters in the same space.
"Has Lovino come home yet?" He asked as Elizaeta shook her head. Feliciano's face lit up as he headed in the direction of the door and carefully put on a tan trench coat, atop of his worn out white button up and brown slacks.
"Well, I should go out looking for him." He said simply as he closed the door behind him.
Elizaveta waited for a moment, before taking a deep sigh, as she collected all the horrible thoughts in the pit of her heart. It was mostly guilt and regret, overcast by a horrible feeling of anxiety. Guilt that she left Gilbert all on his own in the grand city for such a long time, through Basch's service, and Roderick's death, and having to care for Lili. Regret that she hadn't spent more time with all three of them together, that she hid in Italy while Gilbert went on the front lines and Roderick served the resistance, guilt that she wasn't killed yet.
But she had to put these feelings aside; it would only be a matter of time until Feliciano walked home a drunken Lovino, and likely even sooner that Gilbert would finally come home. But not the Gilbert he loved before; he would return as a Gilbert who had lived through the tragedies of war, who had seen the lifeless body of his dearest friend hanging from a noose among dozens of others, who had taken a young girl he barely known into his home, a Gilbert who watched the city he grew up get destroyed by the fighting he risked his life to flee, only to have to flee again from the only home he knew. How could her comfortable life even compare?
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a knock at the door; it was neither of the Italians, as they had keys to Roderick's estate. Her stomach sank below her feet, but she still took quick steps until she reached the door. She held her hand over the door knob and waited for a moment before opening the door.
She was met with his platinum hair, red eyes, and familiar smirk. Any greeting she rehearsed was completely disregarded, as her emotions got the best of her. She threw herself into his arms, as he spun her around. She put her cheek against his and could feel a clean face; her anxieties began to melt when she was assured that he was managing to take care of himself. He put her down quickly, but she didn't loosen her grasp on him any less. He brushed his hand through her hair, and she promptly looked up as his eyes locked with hers. She lifted up her left arm to caress his chin as she broke out in tears.
"It really is you, Gilbert." She smiled at him as she dried her tears with her left hand. She could feel Gilbert's tear drops fall onto her forehead and roll down her face.
"I promise that I'll never leave you for so long, ever again." He could only manage to whisper.
"It took such a tragedy for you to finally come, why didn't you come sooner? Do you not trust me? Whatever it is, I'll change my ways, I'll never do it again."
"I didn't want you to see me in such a state." He admitted. "I was planning on visiting soon, things were finally looking up for me."
"You don't need to put on appearances for me, I'll love you no matter what. All I ask of you is that you're honest with me." She responded. Gilbert stayed silent.
"Stay here with me in Italy for as long as you need, and if you so see it fit, you could never leave, even. Please Gilbert, just live out the rest of your days with me here."
"I love you as well, Elizaveta. And I would love nothing more than that." He said with a smile.