Someone always gets left behind.
I don't own Ludwig, Feliciano, Romano, Grandpa Roma, Antonio or any other character from Hetalia; they belong to Hidekazu Himaruya.
I only own Klaus, Martin, and Jan.
Feliciano served up coffee to the only customer in the café with a smile. He'd been working there for two years now and managed to save enough money to buy a place of his own. A small but comfortable apartment a short walk from the café.
Romano lived with Antonio now, ever since Grandpa Roma's death. The Spaniard couldn't bring himself to continue leading the resistance. Too many good men were dying past the city of which they fought for and everyone was tired.
They needed their families. So Antonio went to Romano, he was the only one he had left. And the only one he'd want to go to, quite frankly. Even though Romano would get mad when it was said out loud, they were in love and everyone knew. Antonio would just laugh it off.
Feliciano was having a chat with the cook when a newspaper boy burst through the doors, eyes wide with excitement.
"IT'S OVER!" He laughed and ran up to the counter, throwing a newspaper down onto it.
The customer in the shop came over and looked at the large words on the front.
"THE WAR IS OVER!" The boy shouted as he ran out the door, going to alert the next shop.
Feliciano smiled and laughed, the cook cried joyfully, and the customer smiled the biggest grin. They all looked at each other and laughed as they heard neighbouring shops outcries of joy and relief.
The customer dashed out of the store to join the people rushing into the street, celebrating. The cook pulled Feliciano into a hug and clapped him on the back.
"Go home, kid! Go home!" He said cheerfully and gave him some extra money for the shift.
"Thank you!" Feliciano grinned. "Thank you for everything!"
He told him not to stay in all day while everyone celebrated and then waved as he walked out the door, into the crowded street full of crying, laughing, smiling, and relieved citizens.
Even where the war had not touched, the relief was thick in the air and shouts of "IT'S OVER" were cried up, up, up to the sky, where everyone hoped the soldiers who hadn't made it to this day, could hear the thanks for their sacrifice.
~
Feliciano placed his keys in the bowl inside the door and sighed softly as he shrugged off his jacket. He walked to his room, opened the nightstand drawer and took out the dogtags, listening to the metal clang as he clenched them in his hand.
The Italian laid back on his bed and held the tags against his chest, closing his eyes as he felt his chest tighten. It'd been over two years since he'd seen Ludwig, heard from him. He wondered if he was out there somewhere.
Feliciano didn't let himself have more than five minutes thinking about Ludwig everyday. It was restricting but he couldn't function if he let it take over him.
He rubbed the tears from his eyes and went back out into his living room, picking up the telephone and calling Gilbert.
It was time to celebrate.
~
Feliciano clinked his glass against everyone's as they all shouted "cheers" and drank back. He sighed and put his beer down on the table, smiling and talking with Gilbert's friends and neighbours who had come to join in the celebration.
The house was loud with happy conversations and it smelled of beer and cigarettes. Feliciano stepped out onto the deck in the backyard and leaned against the railing, absently sipping at his beer. He lit a cigarette and was slipping his lighter into his pocket when a woman smiled and came to stand next to him.
"Evening," She said softly. "What are you doing out here all by yourself? The party's inside."
Feliciano smiled and puffed out the smoke. "I'm not by myself anymore." He watched her smile a little wider, she was pretty. "What's your name?"
"Marilyn." She took a sip of his beer and shrugged when he looked at her quizzically. "Yours?"
"Feliciano." He took her hand and kissed it, gentleman's protocol. He smiled when he looked up at her. "What do you say to a walk?"
"Sounds perfect."
Feliciano nodded and then looked inside, laughing a little when he noticed Gilbert winking and flashing two thumbs up at him. He waved him off and let Marilyn tuck her hand into the crook of his elbow as they strolled along the sidewalk, his beer in her hand.
"You weren't drinking it anyway."
~
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Feliciano laughed as they ran down the street, grasping her hand. He heard the angry man shout after them, the one who'd caught them behind his building with Marilyn's cherry red lips kissing at his throat.
He lead her up the driveway, back into Vash's house, which was now dark and quiet. Everyone had left, including Vash who went to spend the night with his girlfriend.
Feliciano still laughed when he thought about Vash with a girlfriend. They were good for each other.
The Italian was dragged from his thoughts as he entered the back door and took Marilyn into the living room.
"Shh..." He smiled as she pressed her lips together, trying to quiet her giggles. "Gotta be quiet."
"I'm good at that." She whispered, unbuttoning Feliciano's shirt.
"Yeah?" He kissed at her neck, breathing in her perfume. "Let's see about that."
He picked her up and laid her down on the sofa, climbing on top of her as he kissed her, hot and heavy.
Feliciano forgot what it was like; a woman's curves, her soft hair, her slick heat. He thought of nothing else as her red lipstick streaked his own mouth and pulled her legs over his hips, cursing as her painted nails dug at his chest.
Feliciano tested her on how quiet she could be. Thoroughly.
