"Vat do you vant zis time?!" Germany snapped, stopping the Italian rushing towards him with the book he was reading. His left eye twitched in annoyance.
"IthinkI'mhallucinatingagainIthinkIsawHolyRomeinPrussia'sbasementandI'msosorrybutIhadnobodyelsetoturnto!"The copper-haired nation sobbed into Germany's newly-pressed shirt. "Please help me, Germany!"
Ludwig pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed, his breath ruffling a few copper strands of hair. "Vat exactly do you vant me to do, Italy?"
"Comfort-a me!"
A figure followed shortly after Italy permanently burrowed himself in Germany's chest, a figure dressed in a navy blue cloak with blue eyes hidden behind soft dark blond strands of hair. Placing a hand on his knees, the boy peered up at Germany with a nervous, sad expression.
Embroidered on the right sleeve of his tunic was a very familiar insignia-that of the previous Holy Roman Empire.
But that nation had died. Prussia told him himself, after dragging Italy away from the scene, the Italian kicking, screaming, sobbing. Well, more than he usually did.
Germany's eyes widened. "Uh, who are you?"
Holy Rome nervously fiddled with the black ascot around his neck. "I'm sorry for barging in your brother's room like that."
"It's okay vith me," Germany said slowly. "As long as you are not part of ze Allies."
"...Allies?"
"Clearly you're not..." Germany shook his head. "A-are you, by any chance, the Holy Roman Empire?"
Holy Rome nodded. "Well, I was, but then Oliver brought me back!" A soft smile crossed the nation's lips, a brooding look coating his eyes. "I know Italia."
Germany felt himself tightening his hold around the copper-haired nation, a frown creasing into his face. Holy Rome. To the younger Germanic countries, his story was a legend. A sad story, a reminder to them all. A nation too young to have disappeared.
He felt bad. Like somehow his existence was mocking the older nation's...
"Please, I-Italia," Holy Rome's voice dropped lower. "Please, look at me," he approached.
Almost reflexively, Ludwig wrapped his arms around Italy and glared at him.
Ignoring the gesture, Holy Rome gently stretched out his arms, as if to pull the nation into a hug. "...I kept my promise, Italia. Please."
Ludwig felt Italy stirring in his grasp, saw him gently lift his head and turn to look back at Holy Rome.
"...come on, Italy."
"Is it really you?" Italy turned and paused. "Did I not get fed some of France's brownies again?"
Holy Rome stretched his arms out again. "Why don't you find out then?"
Silence.
"Roma!"Italy yelled happily, shoving Germany aside and bounding over to his old love, laughing and releasing a stream of Ve~s.
Germany saw tears pricking Holy Rome's eyes. He saw the nation hold Italy closer, and he heard the mixtures of Ve's,crying and laughing, happiness.
And for once, he felt something twinge in his chest.
Jealousy.
Oliver squealed, hands curled into tiny little fists as the 2p watched the scene unfold before him. "You see, I told you my magic is much better than yours! And my cooking!"
Arthur swatted him on the back of his head. "Oh, put a cork in it, Oliver." He sighed. "Nowhow am I going to get my album back from Allistair?"