lost ~completed~

chapter 2

Waiting. Patience. Careful planning. Considering all possibilities. Determination to finish the plans. Italy did all of these things. For years he stayed silent, pretending to be his old self. Yes, he really had been carefree and happy once. Back when he used to be called Chibitalia. Holy Rome had been around then and had been Chibitalia's best friend. He had been kind to him and had kissed him when he left for war. Feliciano had been devastated when he died. He felt as if he had lost the love of his life and perhaps he had.

Then Ludwig came. Ludwig didn't kiss him when he left for war. Instead, he drug Feliciano out to war with him. Feliciano hated the idea of killing an innocent person. What had that person ever done to him? All these humans only had one life. It was the countries that were cruel to each other. Shouldn't they just fight between themselves and leave the humans out of it.

Eventually, Feliciano became immune to killing humans. He got used to it so it didn't seem like such a big deal anymore. Yet he didn't show it. He continued to act like he hated to kill, that he didn't know how to fire a gun and that he only knew how to beg for his life during a war. Ludwig only yelled at him, chastised him for not being a good soldier. Feliciano tried his best to please him but his best wasn't enough for Ludwig. Slowly, the other countries came to pick on him and call him names. Ludwig would try to protect him when Feliciano around but he would always call Feliciano names behind his back.

Feliciano had loved Ludwig. He used to love to make him smile and on rare occasions, laugh. What was that saying he heard once? You always want what you can't have ? Yeah that was it. His love for the German quickly changed to hate and then to loathing him when Ludwig would yell at him or call him names. Each time Ludwig would take hits at him, it slowly pushed Feliciano towards his ultimatum, wearing down on him and cutting his heart. Ludwig never knew how much each word would affect Feliciano, filling him with an empty cold feeling. Each night, those words seemed to echo in Feliciano's dreams, haunting him. Whoever said sleep was bliss was a liar. Feliciano didn't get a break from the other countries; not after meetings, not in his mind and not even in his sleep.

Yet Feliciano didn't let on to anything. He endured all the pain silently, not saying anything of what he had to deal with every single day and night. He just smiled and laughed and yelled for pasta like he usually would. No one could even sense a flicker of the pain the small Italian harbored. Everyone just assumed that since he smiled he was all right but Feliciano knew he was far from alright. How many people just smiled empty smiles? How many people didn't notice those empty smiles? And how many people died, killed themselves, because someone did not notice their empty smiles.

More then once, Feliciano had considered killing himself. The one night he had even taken a knife and slit his wrists. Much to his dismay, the wound hadn't been deep enough and he lived. He hadn't been able to do it. Recovering from the wound had hurt to much, caused him too much stress. He had to wear long sleeves during the hot summer days. He couldn't go swimming in the beach or tanning at his house. He had to make sure no one would notice, even though they probably wouldn't have said anything even if they saw it.

The scar was still prominent on his tan skin. The long line ran horizontal across his wrists. It was an ugly white color, standing out against his Mediterranean tan skin. It was like a daily reminder of his mistakes. He knew killing yourself was the wrong thing to do. You only had one life so why not live it. The more he thought about what he had in life the more he thought about how he should deal with the other countries. At first he considered confronting them about how he felt but that was such a womanly thing to do. The countries would only most likely to make fun of him more make Ludwig embarrassed to be around him.

Then, he thought that he should come up with a plan to get revenge for all the horrible things they've done to him. He thought about spreading rumors of them around but that wouldn't give him the sweet feeling of revenge. He wanted them to feel the pain he felt and the only way to do that was cause them physical pain. And thus, his idea was born.