~ Hetalia ~ Oneshots <3

GerIta Angst

A/N. Talks about sex 👍 abuse is a slight subject but nothing of large details

I wrote this like 6 months ago whoops mb.

Feliciano still heard the gasping breath from the man next to him—it practically filled the room. However, he was trying to keep his heavy respiration quite hidden. He kept his face up towards the ceiling, breathing in through the nose, and out through the mouth.

Feliciano knew he wasn't going to be forced to leave, but it still felt awkward to be there. He turned a bit to the side. Getting nauseated by the controlled breathing, he decided to stop doing the thing he bestowed upon himself.

A small kiss was planted on his neck by the male behind him. It pierced through his crumbling shell, immediately attacking at his heart. It was a sweet gesture and he understood that. It was just hard to internalize that and what it meant for him.

A rugged, but mellow voice whispered beside him, simply checking on his well being, "..Are you alright? Do you need anything?" As much as Feliciano enjoyed their time, he couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong.

It could well have just been his past creeping up on him, but he never really thought about the damage his ex had left upon him. So, instead of logically thinking about how much he adored the gentleman beside him, he thought about what he was doing wrong and how that may have made Ludwig feel.

Feliciano left the male beside him in the dark, as he couldn't figure out what to say. Hell, he didn't even know what to think. He found it easier just to wallow in his disparity and the crumbled ruins he called his 'love life.'

The Italian male used enough will power to push through the sorrow and make his way out of the bed. He knew he needed to, so he finally built up that courage to even attempt.

After removing the light blue covers from his body, he sat at the edge of the mattress. He let out a small, exasperated sigh. He knew it wasn't right of him to leave. But he also felt he wasn't right in and of himself. He felt so cluttered by many negatives attributes, that he couldn't even name one thing that he was good at, or one thing about him that was even remotely positive. He shook his head softly.

"I'm sorry." The Italian croaked out. He pushed off the bed and let his feet hit the tile beneath him. It sent a small shiver down his spine, reminding him he was real, and reminding him it was actually true he experienced such passion from a harsh, yet tender male who seemed to truly be in love with him.

He ignored his hurting heart, which was yelling at him to go back, and simply made his way over to the clothes that littered the floor, reminding him of such lust and romance Ludwig had used with him.

Such lust and romance that made Feliciano feel so great. So immaculate that it seemed like a high... but that feeling would never last forever. He was convinced it was his first good experience with intercourse, yet he believed he made it so terrible for the other party.

Feliciano lowered his arm to pick up the boxers that had been ripped off of him in such a warm state of bliss. He loved the memories. But he swiftly put them on, as to push down those emotions., which didn't work.

A voice spoke up behind him, reminding the Italian he was still in the presence of a real person. He dared not look to the male, yet he understood and welcomed what he said.

"Why? Why do you feel the need to be sorry?"

That, indeed, was a great question. A question Feliciano had no answer to. He didn't know. He thought about a lot of things,,, but they were mostly speculation. He didn't really believe any of it—just questioned it.

Ludwig did know why. Put simply, it was just Feliciano's past lovers. They weren't exactly kind to him. Hell, quite the opposite. For the few months the two had dated, Feli had confided in and told him about it. It was something deeply personal, and Ludwig always valued his trust in him.

The past lovers manipulated the poor man. They emotionally abused Feliciano and made him feel terrible for even being alive. Any mistake's severity seemed to triple. A drink spill?—That resulted in small verbal abuse. Sex not being perfect?—hell breaking loose.

It made sense Feliciano felt the need to go away. It made sense he wanted to leave in order to spare himself from mental abuse. But with Ludwig, that would never happen. It wouldn't be a fast process, but he needed to change Feliciano's mind and show him he didn't need to be scared.

Ludwig knew that Feliciano was fearful of what could have happened, but he tried his best to convince him otherwise. He never got a response to the question asked. It devastated him that Feliciano felt so negatively about himself, yet he couldn't even lost a reason why.

Ludwig began to speak to Feli. He lowered his tone, letting the Italian know he was okay, and not in the vicinity of a threat to his well-being.

"Don't feel like you have to leave. I enjoyed my time and would really like it if you stayed with me... but if you want to leave, I won't stop you."

Feliciano peered over his shoulder for a split moment before going back to the clothes. He put back on the thin sweater he was wearing, meekly speaking to the larger male who sat flabbergasted on the bed. He left his pants off, walking back to Ludwig.

"Only if you're sure. I don't want to pester you."

Feli stood awkwardly beside the German. He was sitting up in the bed, using the sheets to somewhat cover himself. Despite what Feliciano expected, he smiled, and confirmed.

"Ja, of course I would want you to stay."