To moonraven95. Her/His headcanon: Vinland is Canada and Holy Rome is Germany.
This is different from the first one! Canada and Germany don't know in this one!
-RMS
Germany couldn't help but fidget as he stood next to the violet eyed Canadian.
Ever since World War 2, Germany could never stand next to the shorter man and stand still. The eyes of the lion and not the lamb were burnt into his memory, and no matter how docile Canada was, or how docile he pretended to be, Germany would always feel the eyes of a predator, not a peacemaker. However, the seating chart was out of his hands for this meeting. Prussia was in charge.
And, no, he was not at fault for that; so don't blame him.
However, there was a single, certain thing that Germany did not notice. Because he was distracted by both the Canadian sitting to his right and the American to his left, Germany could not have noticed the glances two distinct families were sending both him and Canada. Canada, because of his noisy brother, fighting ex-guardians, and uncomfortable German, also didn't notice the longing glances sent his way.
Norway was trying to listen to Romania, he truly was. But, his thoughts were preoccupied with something more taxing. Canada. Vinland. His little brother. Norway knew that he was not alone in his forlorn glances to the violet eyed man. (Man. His little brother was a man and yet he was not there to see it...) Norway spotted Denmark also sneaking looks to the Canadian, as was Finland. Sweden's hands were twitching while Iceland tried to distract himself with the papers before him, but it was a fruitless effort. The little Icelander couldn't help but flick his eyes over to where his brother sat; conversing with those who did not deserve him.
Yet, there was nothing they could do. Vinland was gone. Canada remembered nothing.
On the opposite side of the table, only three people this time, another family gave sidelong glances to a blonde man. Prussia was trying his best to not rouse suspicion and was louder than usual. Romano tried to calm himself instead; fighting against the urge to scream and hit things. Italy seemed to be the worst off. His cheerful disposition fooled only those whom were oblivious, such as America. Others, especially those who knew him, knew something was off with the little Italian. His smile seemed forced, his eyes didn't crinkle, there was no sparkle, and he was too quiet. Yet, even though they knew something was wrong, their reason missed it's target.
Italy sorely missed Holy Rome. Yet, nothing could bring him back. Italy glanced again at Germany.
It just wasn't the same.