Stars in the Sky

Chapter 3: Late Night Visit

Thankfully, Italy and Romano agreed to let Molossia stay the night. They gave him the guest bedroom right next to Seborga's before the four of them turned in for the night.

The stars were bright in the sky, and the moon beamed down on Seborga from the window. However, the poor Italian couldn't enjoy the beauty of such a night. His body heaved as he sobbed beneath the mahogany blankets on his bed, and his tears rolled down his face and onto the now soaked and stained pillow that gave comfort to his head. His jaw was clenched, his curl twisted to show his distress, and he laid in fetal position facing away from the door to his room.

"Ingiusto," he hissed beneath his breath. "Why does nothing ever go right? Dio mio, am I that horrible? That unwanted?"

Seborga knew that if his brothers heard him say this to himself, Romano would slap him for being stupid enough to let a mere boy affect him while Veneziano would try to stop him from crying.

He had no idea how it started. All he knew was that he adored the western micronation. He loved that brown hair that looked soft to the touch, that grin he'd wear when he was so confident, that smile that came to his features when he looked at a photo of his dog during meetings... He loved everything about Molossia, despite his tendency to be an asshole.

At first, Seborga thought it was a mistake. He was a Vargas! He was supposed to attract ladies, not men! He was taught it was sinful, and he'd bring a disgrace to their family. At least, that's what the preacher at their church would occasionally say. It was only after his breakdown, when the reality of the situation had hit him during mass, did he confess to his brothers and receive reassurance from them.

Romano did not approve considering how much he didn't like America or his people, but Veneziano was much more calm about it as he knew the blond nation better than their brother. Either way, they supported him and for the longest time he was wondering if Molossia had such feelings for him.

But tonight had confirmed his thoughts that he pushed to the side as doubts. Molossia loved America, not him. Molossia wanted to be with America, not him. Molossia saw him only as a friend, if not a burden to the micronation group as the Italian who'd follow in his useless brothers' footsteps, and that would be their relationship until the end of their time or for eternity.

Seborga had no hope now. So he cried under his covers until he could feel nothing but the numbing sting of his tears as they dried on his face. He stared out into the night sky from his bed, a frown on his face before he sighed.

Then, suddenly, a knock came from his door. Seborga sat up and stared at it with a surprised expression. He glanced over at the clock to see it was almost 12:30 AM and wondered who it could possibly be.

He threw the covers off of his body and walked over to the door, grabbing the knob and twisting it slowly before opening it to see who it was.

Standing in his doorway was Molossia wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The teen's glasses were no longer on his face and his usually cool-styled hair was gone, replaced by a similar hairstyle to Germany's whenever the man would stay the night and make breakfast for them in the morning.

His olive green eyes were clouded over as he leaned against the door frame for support, most likely still feeling drunk.

Seborga's eyes went wide. "Molossia? What are you doing up this late at night? You should be in bed resting..."

"Cann ask the same 'bout youu," he replied, his voice slurred either from the alcohol or the clear exhaustion on his face. "Jusst got worried 's all..."

"I'm fine. Just... A little shaken after today."

"Mmm why? Somethin' happen?"

Seborga bit his lip before shaking his head. "No. No. Don't worry about it. Just... Let's get you back to bed and-"