The Beautiful Word II (More Hetalia oneshots)

Nightmares / S. Italy

Character: Lovino Vargas / S. Italy Romano

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Romano hadn't been doing his best lately. It wasn' hard to notice the far out look in his eyes, and the twitching of every muscle in his body.

Everyone saw it. Antonio, Feliciano, Ludwig, and even you.

You had been the most concerned for him. Granted he wasn't the most forward with his emotions, he was never so distant. You would hug him, he would pull away. You would hold his hand, he would flinch. You'd say you love him, and he would look away.

Just earlier while you were getting ready to bed he acted odd. He was sitting on the couch, right leg crossed over the left as his knee bounced. He his his mouth behind his hand, and crossed his arms starring into nothingness.

You had been worried. He didn't look okay. He looked distressed, scared even.

You sat down next to him, and gently took his hand.

"Romano?" You whispered softly.

In just a split second your wrist was being held in an iron grip, and a hand was around your throat pinning you to the back of the couch. Those olive green eyes you adored where merciless.

You were scared at first, but when you saw the instant regret flash over your lovers face, and felt that shaking of his hand as he retracted it from around your throat, you had never been so worried.

He was on his feet, and backing away in mere moments.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I..." He stuttered, tears lining his tired eyes.

You were on standing up with him reaching out for him, "No no, Roma, it's alright."

He shook his head, and edge of panick setting in, "No no no..."

You reached out to him, and flinched away, "Romano..."

When your hand touched him you were shoved back to the couch with a a conflicted Romano above you. You looked up at him with fear, as he struggled to keep his hands from touching you.

"I... Can't do this..."

He pulled himself away and quickly left your shared house with you calling after him.

You had seen the light brusieing around your wrist where Romano had grabbed you. You weren't angry, or even scared. You just wanted to know what was wrong with him, and you wanted to help.

He had come back hours later to find you already asleep in bed. All he did before laying down with you was placed an apologetic kiss to your cheek, and buried his face in your hair for a light embrace.

He hated having to stay so distant from you, but he would rather die than hurt you. The only time he could be sure he wouldn't snap on you was when he had had time to cool off, and you where alseep. Even then he could only spare a small kiss and a nearly non existent embrace.

He laid down with his back to you, aching for your embrace, but not being able to risk it. He allowed himself to fall asleep, only to escape one hell and be sucked into one even worst.

His dreams were plagued with nightmares. Dreams of his time in the mafia. Of all the people he's killed and lives he's ruined. He had tried decades to leave behind that part of his life, but with recent activity in the mafia being raised he couldn't help but feel influenced. One of the down parts of being the country of the mafia.

He could help it, no matter how hard he tried to calm himself.

You were woken up by his constant movement. You sat up in bed and look down at him as he moved around distressed.