Chapter 5
Italy hummed as he went about making breakfast just for one, gazing out the window on the shimmering hot day. It had only been three days since he kicked Alfred out of his house and he still didn't know what he was going to do about it. He couldn't just ignore him forever, he didn't think he could. But he didn't exactly want to see him right now either.
Despite the warm weather the Italian nation was wearing a long sleeved shirt to cover up the dark, nasty bruises that now adorned his thin wrists. They stood testament to what America had done to him. He hated looking at them almost as much as he hated covering them up with makeup. But he could live with wearing a simple long sleeved shirt even if he still felt like a bit of a coward for doing so.
Italy shook his head to clear his thoughts before turning back to the frying pan and loading up his plate with food he didn't even begin to have an appetite for. nonetheless he sat down and began eating knowing if he didn't he would regret not having had breakfast later. He cleaned off his plate and just left the dishes in the sink with not the faintest idea of what he was going to do the entire day. Just as he was about to call Romano again to check in on his twin there was a knock on the door.
The brunette seized up, part with fear, part with dread. Could that be Alfred already here to face him again? It didn't really matter though, Italy didn't really want company right now whoever it was. Maybe he could just pretend he wasn't here?
"Italy? Are you there?" Feliciano's hands flew to his mouth, that wasn't America at all; it was-
"Germany?" He called, taking a few hesitant steps towards the door, curiosity overtaking him as he opened his door gazing up at the taller nation quizzically. "What are you doing here?"
The nation in question was standing with his head slightly bowed, a forlorn expression mourning his usually stern features. "I just came to apologize for my behavior the other day. That was inappropriate and uncalled for as I knew you were in a relationship. I just want everything to be normal between the two of us again. I hope you can forgive me."
Italy's eyes swelled with sympathy. Had Germany really thought he was that upset? "Oh, that's alright Ludwig. I guess we never really talked about that did we? Would you like to come in?"
Germany's eyes flashed with disbelief for a moment before he nodded mutely stepping into Italy's house. Feliciano flashed him a reassuring smile saying softly. "Lets sit in the living room."
Germany coughed awkwardly before asking sheepishly. "Is America here?"
Italy hummed mournfully and shook his head, his gaze hitting the floor. Germany looked inquiringly down at him but Italy was already skipping towards the living room the Germanic nation only a few steps behind him. It seemed like an eternity before they arrived at the desired room, Italy flopping down on the couch while Germany sat next to him not far from the Italian.
The brunette smiled in an attempt to make to situation less awkward. It did little to help. Germany cleared his throat before saying hesitantly. "Urm, well, I guess we should get started."
Italy just nodded numbly, trying to think of a good place to begin. "Germany, it's not that I don't like you, or that I never did like you, like that-" he began, hoping Germany would understand. "But I just need us to be friends right now. Is that alright?"
Germany simply nodded mutely, giving Italy a sad, almost nonexistent smile. "Of course I understand. I hope you can forgive my actions."
Italy returned Germany's smile with a huge grin. "I forgive you Germany. But that can't ever happen again, alright?" Germany nodded again, that was good enough for him. He clapped his hands together feeling more jovial than he had all week. "There! Now, would you like some coffee?"
Germany glanced at Italy, his icy blue eyes revealing nothing about what he felt inside. With a faint nod and a slight grin, Italy nodded as he got approval and leaped off to get some coffee for Germany.
Germany sat back against the couch, face resting in the palm of his hand as his mind wondered. He ruffled his light blonde hair as his fingers ran through it, and glanced around the room. His thoughts were mainly based on America and Italy.
"Tsk. My enemy with my friend. I still can't believe that nonsense." He muttered softly to himself. His gaze hardened, as Italy headed back into the room.
"Here is your coffee Germany!"
"Eh, thank you Italy." Germany dipped his head in thanks, and grasped the cup gently. Italy bounded off across the room. Germany took a sip from his cup, but when he looked up Italy was reaching up to grab a coaster from atop the cabinet in the corner. Germany watched as his long sleeves slipped past his thin arms revealing in the light spilling in from the window dark, purple bruises that marred his tan skin.
Germany's whole figure froze, he stopped halfway through sipping at his coffee shock rocking through his veins making, his limbs feel weak. Where had Italy gotten a bruise like that? The Italian nation came back and placed the coaster on the coffee table. Speechless and horrified Germany's hand flew to Feliciano's forearm before Italy could retreat, he gripped it gently in his hand.
Italy's chocolate eyes widened fearfully down at his German friend, his arm twitched with the breakneck instinct to jerk his arm away; but he hesitated gazing into Germany's concerned ice-blue eyes. So he allowed Germany to gently pull him once again onto the couch next to him. Italy's eyes beginning to water and he averted his gaze as the blond nation slowly slid Italy's sleeve up above his elbow. The brunette whimpered softly as Germany ran his fingers gently over the discolored skin on his wrist.
"Italy," Ludwig began, the concern in his voice was heartbreaking. "Where is America?"
Italy suppressed a sob, his chest shuddering with shaky breath as he struggled to answer. "I-I don't know." He said finally, turning his tear filled gaze back on the younger nation.
Germany was looking at him intensely his blue eyes a mix of concern and determination. "Who did this to you? Who hurt you?" He asked, authority in his still unwavering deep tone.
Italy closed his eyes, the tears finally slipping down his cheeks and Italy found he could no longer keep his sobs at bay as images of a raging America demanding answers he didn't have flashed before his eyes. Feliciano stiffened as Ludwig leaned forward wrapping his strong arms around the Italian nation's small frame, giving him a quick but strong squeeze. Italy buried his face into Germany's chest feeling his whole body submit to him, rejoicing silently in his usually shy friend's unusual affection. He shut his eyes and pressed his ear to Germany's chest, finding a calm reassurance in the repetitive beating of his heart.
After what felt like forever, Germany whispered into the silence. "How long have you been here by yourself?"
Italy hummed softly his eyes opening revealing bloodshot eyes. "Three days." He whispered, afraid to speak much louder.
"So he did do this, did he?"
Italy nodded slowly repositioning his head so it rested on Germany's broad shoulder. Pain was radiating from his chest leaving his whole body aching. "I didn't think he would ever do something like that." He whimpered a great pressure constricting his stomach as he continued. "I don't know anything anymore. The night before we had a fight, then I went over to Spain's house and Romano and I fought and I thought you would never want to see me again-"
Italy squeaked as Germany's grip intensified but not painfully so. It was a comforting feeling. It made him feel elated, which distracted him from his sense of abandonment for the first time in three days.
"Italy, I don't think that has ever, or will ever be true." Germany separated from the hug but kept one arm wrapped around Italy. He gazed down at the Italian and gripped him underneath the chin, gently guiding Italy's brown gaze to his own. "I'm sorry it's been so long since I've seen you. I should have been there for you."
"No. You were recovering from the war and paying off debt. You didn't have time for me." He said it matter-of-factly, but Germany could sense the longing in his tone.
"Well," Germany tugged him closer and suddenly Italy was hyper aware of how just how close they were and red flags began popping up everywhere. He was still involved with America. And yet- "I'm here now. And I'm not going to leave again."
The brunette just nodded mutely, his skin burning under the Germanic nation's touch. Italy swallowed staring into Germany's shockingly blue eyes, they were a much lighter hue than America's. It fascinated him how similar the two looked and yet they were so different. His mind flashed back to the look on America's face just before he had shut the door on him, now that he thought about it America looked as if he was going to cry…
This wasn't alright and Italy knew it. But something within him didn't want this moment to end. He was afraid if he breathed too hard it would shatter and he would be alone again. He closed his eyes as Germany began stroking his jawline tenderly with his thumb, and right there he knew he had to speak. He opened his chocolate eyes revealing to him Germany's determined ice-blue eyes.
Feliciano felt the words die on his tongue, what was wrong with him? He had a boyfriend! He had to say something or he would do something he would regret. "Germany?" He whispered his features turning pleading. "I can't-"
He squeaked as Germany leaned in and left a lingering kiss on his jaw, tilting his head back as he did so. "Can't what?" He murmured, narrowing his soft, curious gaze onto him.
"Germany, America-"
"Screw that asshole." He growled wrapping one hand around Italy's waist, inching him steadily closer to him. "He doesn't deserve you."
Italy dropped his gaze from Germany's determined eyes. They had been filled with something suggestive too, which made his stomach uneasy. The Italian could hear his heart beat as he thought about what decision to make. Yes America had hurt him, but he still had been committed in a relationship.
Italy thought silently to himself, then lifted his chin to meet Germany's gaze. His blood ran cold as the blonde's hands rested on the Italian country's collarbone, his gaze dropping to Italy's skin. An awkward silence arose into the air as Germany continued to stare at Italy's exposed skin for another moment before his gaze turned back to Italy's, determination swimming in his eyes. One of the blonde country's hands was still grasping his face softly.
Italy felt his mind go blank as Germany leaned forward, slowly, deliberately pulling their faces closer. The brunette was practically in his lap at this point as Germany leaned down and pressed their lips together tenderly. He pulled Italy completely into his lap stroking his cheek softly with his thumb as Italy tensed his whole body going rigid a moment before returning the kiss hesitantly, humming softly as Germany smiled against his lips.
Germany moved his hand from Italy's collarbone to his chest right atop his heart. Italy whimpered softly as they kissed gently. It was nothing like the first time they kissed, it was sweet and slow. Italy melted into it for a moment before his eyes flashed open, and he realized what he was doing. He was still dating America for goodness sake! What was wrong with him?
So the Italian nation pulled slowly away from the Germanic nation's warm embrace, his head bowed abashedly, tears surfacing in his eyes as he squeezed them shut. Shame burned Feliciano's cheeks as he slid out of Ludwig's lap and pressed his palm to his cheek, his face veiling most of his face. He shook slightly shifting away from the blond nation slowly. Germany looked questioningly down at Italy his gaze making the Italian's insides squirm. "I'm still dating America." He whispered, horrified with himself. "I'm so sorry Germany," Italy whimpered shrilly. "I shouldn't have done that."
"Um, no that was my fault." Germany sighed his face falling considerably. "I shouldn't have done that, again."
"No it wasn't your fault. I shouldn't let these things keep happening to me." Italy mourned, wiping his eyes and wincing as his bruised wrists passed over his supple cheeks.
Germany reached out, his face half confused and half vexed. "Italy, what are you still doing with that monster?"
Italy removed his hands from his face and looked incredulously up at Germany's questioning face. "Monster? Germany he made a mistake. He did a bad thing that doesn't make him a bad person!" Italy insisted wanting nothing more than to justify his boyfriend's actions. If he could make it alright everything would go back to normal.
"But you can't possibly trust him after he did something like that!" Germany insisted giving the Italian nation a hard look. "Italy, you absolutely can not be in an abusive relationship!"
Italy gaped. "He's not abusing me-"
Germany reached over and pulled up the Italian's sleeve, gently caressing the brunette's bruised skin. "That is abuse. Italy, you can't let him hurt you just because-" Germany paused frowning. "Wait, why is it you two were fighting? What was he upset about?" Germany demanded as Italy's gaze dropped to the floor.
"Ve, I'm still a little um, confused but… we were fighting about you and I." Italy stammered awkwardly his eyes hitting the floor. "He found out that you invited me over for…" Germany looked away briefly, his cheeks staining red. "Anyway," Italy plowed on, his own face heating up as the memory resurfaced. "I-I think Japan must have said something but he thought that-" Italy took a shuddering breath, trying to hold back the stinging sensation in his eyes. "You and I had an affair."
Germany's head shot up numbing shock clear on his face. "But, why?"
Italy proceeded to explain the night in as much detail as he could. The memory resurfacing before his eyes as he went on.
…
Italy tore through the night, running as fast as his nimble legs would allow him to go. It was dark but he knew where he was going well enough, his feet carried him to his desired destination almost automatically. His throat was constricting and his vision was still blurry from his tears but he ran on into the night.
Finally he arrived panting at the front door of Spain's house. Romano and he had always found a sort of refuge in the Spaniard's rather large house as Spain was always accommodating and kind. Antonio had a sort of soft spot for the Italian brothers, particularly for Romano. Romano and Spain were going to make each other very happy some day.
Feliciano panted lightly as he knocked lightly on the front door, silently hoping Romano would be asleep so he could have the night to think up an excuse that wasn't 'America and I had a huge fight and now I'm afraid to stay in my own home'. That wouldn't sit well with his brother on two very fine points. But his hopes weren't high as he heard high-pitched shrieking within the depths of the house. He recognized that to be Romano's complaining about a late visitor.
"Who the fucking hell is calling at this time of night!" he screamed, his voice echoing deep inside Spain's house.
"Don't worry Lovi, I'll get it!" Spain called cheerfully as footsteps began approaching the doorway.
"Don't call me that you bastard!" Romano replied as the door swung open revealing a smiling Antonio.
"Oh Veneciano! What a nice surprise!" Italy smiled despite himself. Spain had always been very kind to him.
"Ve, can come in?" He asked breathlessly, his throat still scratchy from his run.
"Eh? Of course little one!" Spain ruffled Italy's already windswept hair and gestured for him to enter. "Come on! Lovi's just a little grumpy…"
"Who the fuck is it? Why are you letting them in-? Feli?" Italy smiled sheepishly up at his older twin, hoping beyond hope he could just stay unquestioned.
"Ve, Hello fratello!"
Romano advanced on him, jabbing a finger in Italy's chest. "Don't you 'hello fratello' me! What the fuck are you doing here you bastard?" Lovino yelled, causing his brother to blanch shyly.
"I-I"
"You've been crying." Whenever Romano said that, it was never a question. He always, always knew when it came to his younger brother. He practically had a sixth sense when it came to whether or not his twin had been crying. "What happened? Don't you fucking lie to me! I can see it in your stupid face!"
Italy took a step back and found that Spain was standing a few strides off to his side. "Huh? Have you been crying Feli? What's wrong?"
Feliciano clamped his mouth shut, he didn't want to answer. Italy knew it would should rude to just stay without even giving up an explanation but he knew exactly how Roma would react if he ever heard America and he had been fighting. As much as Italy would love to talk to his big brother about it, he knew Romano would do something over protective and irrational. He didn't want Lovino getting hurt because of him.
"Well? Tell us already asshole!" The Southern nation snapped, taking another intimidating step closer.
"I- it's- ve. It's nothing you have to worry about." He settled on, cringing at the thin cover-up.
"I don't give a shit! Tell me or I'll smack you over the head with a ladle!" Roma threatened.
"Um, it's personal?"
"Don't give me that chickenshit! I don't give a fuck how personal it is I'm your brother. Tell. Me. now!"
"America and I had a fight!" Italy sobbed, feeling himself cave under pressure. "A-and he stormed out, and I'm pretty sure he's going to dump me in the morning!"
Silence choked the entire room as Italy stood there wiping at his eyes, determined to stop crying in front of his brother.
Finally after what felt like an eternity, Spain broke the silence. "Wow," He whispered sympathetically. "I'm sorry amigo. That must be hard. You can stay here if you need-"
"What the fuck!?" Romano burst, causing Italy to squeak in fright and Spain to jump considerably. The angry Italian advanced on his brother, backing him up to the wall pointing a finger right at the younger brunette's chest. "That burger eating bastard is going to get a mouth full of lead when I find him!"
Feliciano felt panic sear his heart and reached out to grab his brother desperately by the shirt. "Roma! Please don't hurt him!"
"What the fuck not?!"
"Because this is my mess and I'll deal with it!"
"That's a shit excuse I've helped clean up your messes before!"
"I can handle it!"
"You cannot!"
"Romano!" Italy screamed, moving so the two were eye to eye. "You can't hurt America! This is my life alright?" Romano's eyes swelled with shock at his usually timid brother's forceful proclamation. Lovino backed up as Feliciano advanced. "I won't have you messing with my life whenever you feel like it! You're never in my life anymore! You have no right-"
A snap rebounded throughout the room as Romano's hand flew to Italy's cheek, tears were in both brother's eyes as Italy stumbled onto all fours, clutching his rapidly reddening cheek. His tears splattering onto the floor like broken glass. He looked up at his fuming older brother, shock and hurt shimmering in his big eyes. "You have no right to talk to me like that! I am in your life you ungrateful-!"
"You-you're not." Italy sobbed, shifting so his was on his knees. His head was bowed. He was too afraid to look up. "Y-you're always here." His whispers were almost inaudible. "I never get to s-see you anymore."
Roma held stubbornly to his infuriated expression though his eyes betrayed him. They reflected remorse and regret. "So what? You're still my brother, my opinion matters!"
"Not when it's my personal life!"
"Especially when it's your personal life!" Romano exploded. Italy shot up and looked Lovino dead in the eye showing a kind of fire Roma wasn't used to seeing in him. It was unnerving. "That burger loving bastard is almost as bad as the Potato bastard! You always pick the assholes!"
"What does Germany have to do with any of this? Him and I never got together!" Italy shrieked, causing Spain to wince in the background.
Romano scoffed. "Oh yeah right. You were practically doing everything else!"
"What does that mean?!"
"It means that you're a dumbass and so was he! You always pick wrong!"
"Well who would you have me pick?"
Romano thought about this. Who would he pick? He continued to think and he came up with no one.
The northern country looked considerably ruffled as he got up off the floor and stared down his older brother. Finally romano replied. "It doesn't matter. They're both assholes and I forbid you from seeing either! That American is stupid and greedy and Germany is cruel and sadistic!"
"That's not true!"
"It is and you know it!"
"You don't even know them!"
"I don't have too! Their actions speak louder than their words!"
Italy reeled back. "What is that suppose to mean?"
"Do I have to spell it out for you stupid?" Romano sneered. "the burger loving bastard stole nearly everything he has and the potato bastard followed that asshole dictator and praised the dirt he walked on!"
"You can't just judge people on things their boss make them do! That's unfair to hold onto those things for so long!"
"It's not unfair it's perfectly reasonable. And I was right, you wouldn't be here if it wasn't horrible now tell me what that bastard did!" Roma screamed
"No! America is not greedy and he didn't steal everything he has. He's payed for it time and time again!"
"That doesn't make it alright!" Romano took another step closer. "Obviously this douche is just with you for the sex!"
"Sex?!" Italy exploded, just as Spain grabbed Romano from behind and pulled him away from his younger half, snapping out of his daze at the uncomfortable outburst. "Romano I'm a virgin!"
"W-what?" Lovino spluttered, as he wrestled with the Spanish nation dragging him back. "Let me go bastard!"
"I think that's enough now Lovi." He whispered, obviously still in shock from seeing such an intense fight between the twins. "Maybe we should all just go to bed and sleep this off."
"Fuck that!" Romano screamed, fighting tooth and nail to get out of the Spaniard's grasp. "You either tell me what he did now or get the hell out of here!"
Italy took a shuddering breath and stared his wildcat of a brother entrapped in Antonio's iron grip. "Then I guess I'm leaving." He hissed. Italy glanced at the clock for a moment, noting how late it was before he turned on his heel and left, ignoring his brother's yowls for him to get back in the house and explain.
Italy did not heed his hot-headed brother's calls and started running back the way he came, deciding to just go home and pray everything would turn out alright.
…
"After that I got home. I lied to America about where I went because I didn't want him to do anything to Romano for hitting me. We've already talk it out." He said hastily, as Germany's expression turned horrified. "I told him I lied about where I went and he flipped out even more. He thought I went over to your house." Italy sighed. "He just wouldn't listen. He called Spain and I kicked him out." He concluded, looking fearfully up at Germany, who was staring off into space, thinking. Finally Italy asked. "Germany are you okay?"
Germany looks toward the ground as Italy finished his story. Finally the younger country makes eye contact. "You had to deal with all that on your own?"
"Yes, it has been lonely the last few days." Responded the Italian country.
For awhile there was an awkward silence until Feli shifted his body on the couch and placed his head on Ludwig's shoulder. " L-Luddy, would you stay with me? Just a few days so I don't feel as lonely."
The German man looked to the Italian in surprise but agreed. "Of course I will." He murmured, sympathy swimming in his icy-blue eyes. "I'll be here for you, Feli."
Italy couldn't help the huge grin that lit up his face. Germany grunted as Italy enveloped him into a tight hug, squealing happily. "Thank you Ludwig! This will be super fun I promise!"
Germany wrapped his arms around Italy's middle, a serene smile adorning his features. "Yeah." He muttered. "It'll be fun."
…
Alfred sat on the edge of his bed staring out the window dismally. For the passed few days he had been doing every number of things to keep his mind off his actions. He had gone dirt biking, to the shoot rang, hunting, the movies and even decided to draw (Italy had been trying to teach him, he wasn't very good yet but he still practiced). But nothing could keep his thoughts at bay for too long.
The image of Italy's frightened and tear-stained face, shaking and bruised on the ground would not shake from his memory. Pain stabbed his heart everytime he remembered he hadn't been the hero to Italy, he had been the bad guy. It ate away at his sanity, so much so that he had to call Canada nearly twice everyday. His brother never failed to cheer him up.
His foot began to tap rapidly on the floor, the sound resounding throughout the room. He sighed, it was too quiet, it was always too quiet. He just wanted to be back with Italy, but if he needed some time away, he could give him that. It was the least he could do for him. But America was starting to resent this room. He had rented a hotel room in Italy, having nowhere else to go.
There wasn't anything wrong with the place, but staying alone in here was driving him insane. He hated the silence, the four walls seemed to be judging him. He felt like he was being mocked by everything around him. It was unbearable.
But he forced himself not to leave, to endure knowing Italy wanted some time apart. It broke his heart, but he hoped it was helping at least. Maybe it would all be worth it in the end.
It had now been five days since America has seen Italy. He couldn't take it anymore! Mathew's rule was stupid, he was going to see Feliciano!
(AN):
Hello! Sincerest apologies for not updating on Saturday like I usually would, I was pretty busy that day. This piece is poorly edited so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, this is old and that's totally my bad.
Thank you so much for the reads and reviews! Love you stay awesome!