Chapter eighteen

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After they landed in Ottowa, Canada and Italy were instantly separated. Canada being grabbed and marched away by his Prime Minister, but not before the Prime Minister turned and spoke to a secret service agent that was standing by. "Make sure North Italy makes it home."

"Yes sir."

Italy didn't even get to say goodbye to Canada, the only thing he could do was look longingly at the back of Canada's head. Before Canada was out sight he did turn out just brief enough to give Italy a rather dejected look, before being pushed away by his Prime Minister. "Keep it moving, Canada." Was the last thing the Prime Minister said before they stepped through a door and vanishing. This left just Italy as America whistled loudly and stepped off the plane.

"You're leaving as well?" Italy asked in a small voice as he sat down on the nearest chair.

"Yep! My home is just next door, my work here is done!" America laughed his usual laugh and quickly walked away.

So, it was just Italy. He looked at the Secret service agent and honestly debated if he could outrun him... Italy determined he probably could, nobody has been able to outrun him yet, but that didn't mean he wanted to outrun this man or attempt. He already knew he was in trouble and decided it was best if he'd just go home and face Romano and his President.

His heart raced with fear at the thought of it. He didn't want to get yelled out, but he knew that they were not going to let this insubordination slide. Italy huddled himself up on his chair and looked down at his shoes, well, his boots. Funny story about that, he was in such a hurry to leave his house that he snatched his old army boots instead of his tennis shoes.

He remembered in his anger, with his brother smashing his phone and his president screaming at him to end the affair, that he managed to correctly tie and lace his boots up properly, something Germany might have been proud of, but probably won't care about now. Would he be there? Would he yell and scream at him like everyone else?

Italy shook his head and decided not to think on it, no he would going to think of ways for him to make this up to everyone. He knew he messed up, and this time he messed up big time. It was strange he just couldn't get Canada out of his mind and even now more than ever. He wanted Canada to be there when he would get confronted by his brother and president. For Canada to hold his hand.

But Canada wouldn't be there.

It would just be him and him alone.

"The jet is taking off within ten minutes, do you need anything before we take off, Mr. Vargas?" The secret service agent was nice enough to ask. Italy shook his head.

"No, no grazie."

The agent just shrugged and decided to sit with Italy then. At least he wasn't so alone now. There was a moment of silence between them neither of them knowing each other. So, Italy decided to be the one to break the ice: "Have you ever been out of Canada before?"

"Yeah, I work with the Prime Minister a lot, and where ever he goes I go."

Italy rested his head on his knees. "Do you work with Matthew?"

Instead of answering the question, the agent dodged it and asked a new question. "If you don't mind me being so bold. What's going on here? Between you and Mr. Williams, I mean."

Italy frowned just a little before looking out the window. The jet started to rumble slightly letting Italy know that the jet was getting ready to take off. Italy was never good at keeping a secret so he felt no need to lie. He just looked at the guard and felt his lips form into a rather sad smile. "I love him, and he loves me."

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