“I wonder why we, nations, wouldn't die even though we are going through the conditions humans could die from,” he murmured tenderly, shutting his eyes and leaning his cheek to listen to France’s frantic breathing. “But we can easily be killed by a single paper and signatures. Like Holy Roman.”
As hard as France wanted to admit, Italy's words were like salt, they worsened his wounds. Very much.
Sighing as he straightened his back into a sitting position again, Italy shook his head, before fully turning on his heels still with his lips' corners tugged upwards. “So rest assured, Big Brother France. You won't die. Look, the scars are healing, right? Even though maybe you’re still feeling like dying.”
Yes. Die. Why did it sound so good now? France really felt his life was starting to leave his body...., or so he hoped. But they both knew it wouldn't; as long as his people and towns were left unharmed.
Raising his brows lightly at France's suffering, Italy simply stepping backward, taking the transparent bottle and spun around to open the door by the time he felt his back had met the end of the room. He did glance over his shoulder, nonetheless, as his hand had turned the door knob. Soft were his eyes; overall expression was a mixture of something one would not be able to guess. And of course, France was no exception, moreover with his current state. Italy's figure was something he couldn't see from where he was lying on.
However, on the verge of losing his consciousness, France had sworn, that a whisper had managed to greet his ears vaguely.
“I'm sure Big Brother France would taste what Holy Roman felt someday.”
ーーー
Cracking noises resounded here and there—before him, and behind him. Giant flames danced over the night sky, the remaining of the burning town was almost couldn't be seen. It was smoke everywhere, ashes all over the place. And Italy was standing in silence, observing the chaos he had caused just earlier.
“Italy!”
Sensing a firm tap on his shoulder, Italy turned his head to face the tall, muscled man with blue eyes and golden hair. The way the man stared at him in deep worries and care sprayed water to his heart. The heart which was aching and crying until just now.
“Ve~ Germany. You come to fetch me?”
The blond nation suppressed a yelp as Italy wrapped him in a tight hug, practically jumping and crashing their bodies together.
“We—well, it is rare to see you this useful, but this is enough. We shouldn't go too far, otherwise everything will backfire us,” light pink blushes tainted his cheeks as the guy tried to push Italy away, grabbing the Italian's shoulders gently. “It's better for us to come back and make further plans.”
“I see. But isn't this great that we achieve this far?” Italy spread his arms open, grinning just too wide to Germany's liking. The nonchalant nation might not understand the danger of his action, but again, Germany was more tickled about the fact of why Italy suddenly got the spirit regarding the World War Two they were currently in. Moreover, it was France that they were attacking now. Wasn't the country close enough with Italy compared to England, Russia or America?
Re: Ethereal Threads of Fate [6/7]
“I wonder why we, nations, wouldn't die even though we are going through the conditions humans could die from,” he murmured tenderly, shutting his eyes and leaning his cheek to listen to France’s frantic breathing. “But we can easily be killed by a single paper and signatures. Like Holy Roman.”
As hard as France wanted to admit, Italy's words were like salt, they worsened his wounds. Very much.
Sighing as he straightened his back into a sitting position again, Italy shook his head, before fully turning on his heels still with his lips' corners tugged upwards. “So rest assured, Big Brother France. You won't die. Look, the scars are healing, right? Even though maybe you’re still feeling like dying.”
Yes. Die. Why did it sound so good now? France really felt his life was starting to leave his body...., or so he hoped. But they both knew it wouldn't; as long as his people and towns were left unharmed.
Raising his brows lightly at France's suffering, Italy simply stepping backward, taking the transparent bottle and spun around to open the door by the time he felt his back had met the end of the room. He did glance over his shoulder, nonetheless, as his hand had turned the door knob. Soft were his eyes; overall expression was a mixture of something one would not be able to guess. And of course, France was no exception, moreover with his current state. Italy's figure was something he couldn't see from where he was lying on.
However, on the verge of losing his consciousness, France had sworn, that a whisper had managed to greet his ears vaguely.
“I'm sure Big Brother France would taste what Holy Roman felt someday.”
Cracking noises resounded here and there—before him, and behind him. Giant flames danced over the night sky, the remaining of the burning town was almost couldn't be seen. It was smoke everywhere, ashes all over the place. And Italy was standing in silence, observing the chaos he had caused just earlier.
“Italy!”
Sensing a firm tap on his shoulder, Italy turned his head to face the tall, muscled man with blue eyes and golden hair. The way the man stared at him in deep worries and care sprayed water to his heart. The heart which was aching and crying until just now.
“Ve~ Germany. You come to fetch me?”
The blond nation suppressed a yelp as Italy wrapped him in a tight hug, practically jumping and crashing their bodies together.
“We—well, it is rare to see you this useful, but this is enough. We shouldn't go too far, otherwise everything will backfire us,” light pink blushes tainted his cheeks as the guy tried to push Italy away, grabbing the Italian's shoulders gently. “It's better for us to come back and make further plans.”
“I see. But isn't this great that we achieve this far?” Italy spread his arms open, grinning just too wide to Germany's liking. The nonchalant nation might not understand the danger of his action, but again, Germany was more tickled about the fact of why Italy suddenly got the spirit regarding the World War Two they were currently in. Moreover, it was France that they were attacking now. Wasn't the country close enough with Italy compared to England, Russia or America?