"I'm fading, aren't I?"
Those were the words he said to his very worried brother. He gave a small smile, despite the thought of him fading.
Somehow, it amused him. That he would soon be gone in this world. That he would soon leave behind the friends he have grown to know so well all these centuries. After being alive for so long despite sharing a country with his brother, he was finally, slowly fading.
He honestly should have expected this.
The brother in question gave a small frown, lips pressing together into a thin line. His eyes felt watery, hands gripping that of his other half a bit too tightly. He hated to admit it but his brother is right. He just couldn't accept it. He can't.
They've been practically inseparable for decades, centuries, and now, death has gripped his other half to take him away. To pull them apart.
His curl drooped even more at that thought.
"Fratello, do you want pasta? I can cook some real quick." he avoided answering, instead of just stating the obvious. It was painful to think of this. He wanted to at least help his other half in his final moments. He still can't quite accept that his brother is literally on his death bed and he can't do anything about it.
A small chuckle, and he saw his weak brother stare up at him with misty eyes. Hazel met emerald, and he fought the urge to spill the waterworks threatening to fall from his orbs. He didn't want to cry. All he ever did was cry, these days.
He saw the outlines of his brother slowly fade, the soft smile gracing his lips vanishing as well. In his soul, he felt something slowly going missing. It must be the part that was bonded to the Italian on the bed. Said Italian groaned softly, most likely in pain, tears finally spilling along with his brother's.
"I'm joining Grandpa Rome soon.... And Germany.... and America.... And Spain.... I'll get to see the others again...."
He could only nod, not trusting his voice. He knows that he already lost it. And if he didn't, it might just crack at every syllable he said. He needs to be strong for both of them. They both know that he would soon take over as the official personification of Italy. The whole country instead of being split into North and South. He knows he have to be strong for that.
Breathing deeply, he let out a shaky breath, wiping away the tears that left his eyes. He willed his voice to speak these last words.
"Ti amo, mio fratello."
The ex-personification of North Italy smiled up at him, hand tightening one last time.
"Ti amo...."
And with that, Lovino watched as his brother completely faded. He was finally the only one leftnow. The one that this would would call as the personification of Italy. Not South Italy, not Romano, but just Italy.
He feels empty when being called that.
