Chapter 44: Pop Goes The Weasel
Holy Rome walked slowly like the rest of northern Italy's people. This part of the country being the safest considering how isolated Italy was from danger. His blue eyes skimmed around the floors where people use to dance, diners where families would feast, churches that played the morning bells. Now everything was emptied.
There was no more music to dance to, no food to feast upon, no faith to put in church hymns. Just the empty and cold shell of what once was a lively nation. The lively nation Otto Beilschmidt fell for.
He reached for his unnoticeably small locket and clicked open the rusting silver. It revealed beauty. It revealed a dream, Otto's dream.
With teeth a pearly white, dimples dipping into cheeks, eyes squinted, hair framing perfectly, how could one not fall for Feliciano's lovely smile.
Now he did not see this Feliciano, he did not see his Feliciano. The Feliciano who innocently walked in the nude into the lake. The one who was struck with fear when seeing Otto when in reality Otto was more frightful of him.
Oh, how he yearned for the day when that Feliciano returned.
"Buon pomeriggio, signore. Fiori?"
Otto looked down to see a small little girl holding out a bouquet of small flowers wrapped in flimsy butcher paper. He smiled as the girl stared happily with eyes nearly the colour as Feliciano's. Her hair was a dark brown, she had small dark crescents under her eyes that showed exhaustion but her smile covered it up. Clothes made of dirtied rags and her hair tied with beige ribbon.
She seemed so innocent compared to the chaos surrounding her. Like a white dove in the midst of a crowd of black crows. He handed her coins and put one of the white flowers in her hair, earning a toothy smile. She waved goodbye after a woman, presumably her mother, called for her.
He continued his walk in a solemn mood. He felt like a child looking for his parents, like a dog searching for its owner. He heard a sudden scream of agony and immediately spun around to look behind him, heart stopping in his chest.
The mother crying over the corpse of her fallen daughter. The flower put in her head fell into the growing pool of blood. Others ran, terrified of being the next victim. A largely built man, who looked remarkably like him and Germany, holding out a gun that puffed out smoke. Smirking maliciously and pridefully staring at his work.
Slice.
Holy Rome felt a sharp pain in his chest. He looked down and saw something he refused to believe, a dagger sticking through his chest before being roughly pulled out. His white shirt stained red and he felt the ground coming closer and closer, eyelids becoming harder to keep open. Through the ringing of his ears he could hear laughter.
"The Holy Roman Empire falls."
YOU ARE READING
After All This Time
Fanfiction(HRE X Italy and Germany X Italy) Holy Roman Empire, forever gone. That's what they thought, after all France had killed the boy long ago. Italy had longed to see his first love, but knew it was impossible. Now he has Germany and Japan, he has becom...
