Germany's P.O.VI couldn't believe it. How could everything go down hill so fast? One moment I was holding him in my arms, the next...he was gone. Gone through the mirror. How was that even possible? My headache grew worse. Thanks Italy. Liebe you too. Was his secret that bad that he resorted to leaving this realm altogether? I wiped the tears from my eyes. Crying will not bring him back. I stood up from my place on the ground. I silently watched the others fight amongst themselves. Those dummkophs.
"But he still owns me a table!!" America whined. England beat me to it. He punched the obnoxious nation in the jaw. I would have preferred it if England socked him in the nose, but it was good enough . For now anyway.
"You Git! We have other things to worry about that your bloody table!" He snapped. America looked shocked. A man that I don't remember stepped up. His violet eyes flashed with annoyance.
"Shut up!" He shouted on the top of lungs. The two fighting nations froze. France's eyes bulged.
"Since when were you able to shout?!" America asked. The man shrugged.
"I always have. Thanks to Italy, I am able to talk more....normal." He looked toward the mirror. "England's right America. Italy would not want us to fight amongst ourselves over something so trivial as a table. Since Italy came back, I have noticed that something has come up or he wouldn't have went with the 2ps."
It took me a little bit to find my voice. "When did Italy leave? He was with me. I would have noticed if he was gone." I whispered. The blonde haired man looked shocked.
"No way...that means everyone but me, England and Italy forgot! It makes sense now!!" He ran up to the mirror. "Feli!" The mirrored did nothing. The minutes ticked by. "Come on Feli! Just answer the damn mirror!" Finally it simmered and a picture of my beloved Italian came forth. He was crouching behind a ruined car. He was holding a A-K 47 and was looking around the front as if someone was hunting him.
"Where are they at? They should have attacked by now." He mumbled. What? I looked at everyone, each one of the nations had a different look if shock. The only one that didn't look surprised was the man that I kept forgetting his name. Everyone jumped as a hail of bullets flew toward Italy's head. He pulled back just in time. One of the bullets grazed his cheek leaving a shallow stream of blood. "Damn it! They said that the head was off limits! Hypocrites." He cursed.
"To slow Feliciano." A voice that sounded a lot like mine scolded. A tall man with violet eyes a mergered and he raised his gun at the smaller nations head. I don't remember much after that. I remember the gunshot going off, and someone screaming Italy's name. Oh wait. I think that was me. Italia just smirked and dived out of the way. He did a back handspring and landed facing the violet eyes man. His gun was in perfect position and he was also in perfect stance. His body turned to make himself look smaller. Italia's honey eyes sparkled playfully.
"To slow now?" He smirked at the man's wide eyes. Then my boyfriend did the unthinkable. He fired the gun. The bullet hit the man's chest, right where his heart was. There were gasps of horror from the nations on our side of the mirror. The next thing I knew I was being led to the couch alongside Romano. What had just happened? Romano just sat staring at his brother in a dazed shock.
"Veneciano..." The older brother had tears running down his face. Italy helped the stunned man up. They laughed at something. The other man had a hole in his shirt, leaving the thick black material visible underneath. A bullet proof vest. No wonder he wasn't hurt. The violet eyed man noticed us. He tapped Italy on the arm. The Italian quickly turned around. He took one look at us and his eyes widened. The other man gave one glance at us then sauntered off.
"Thanks for the support Lutz! I really, really like it! Can I have some more please?" Italy shouted at his retreating back. The stranger must have responded because Italy just stuck his tongue out at him. "Lousy no good jerk." He muttered.
I was about to draw his attention back to us but his brother beat me to it. "What the fuck was that Veneciano?" Romano yelled. His brother paled.
"How much did you see?" He asked his honey eyes wide. Romano exploded.
"How much did I see?! How much did I see?! I better not have heard that come out of your God damn mouth! What the fuck Veneciano!" Romano burst into sobs. "What happened to the little boy who waved his fucking white flag to surrender for everything? What happened to the random shouting of pasta, or the 3 p.m siestas? To calling me at the worst of times to tell me about a stupid cat? I'll tell you what I saw you idiota. I saw you hiding behind a car, with a gun! You even fired it at someone! To make everything worse, fratello, it was a perfect kill shot! Just a month ago you were a happy go lucky boy without a care in the world. What happened that made you change? What happened to you that gave you the look of a war torn solider?" The oldest stood and made his way up to Italy. "Please tell me fratello." He whispered.
Italy looked down the whole time. When he looked up I could see what his brother meant by Italy having the look of a war torn solider. His eyes had the shadow in them that had seen death. The death of many.
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Secrets and lies. (Hetaoni and 2p fanfic)
FanfictionItaly finally did it. He got everyone out of that cursed mansion. The only catch is that nobody remembers anything about what happened. In fact, to them, it never happened. How will our lovable pasta eater be able to hide what he truly is? Can he do...