Why me? [2p! Italy x Reader]

RW: Chapter 10

~Alfred's pov~

"Give me one reason why I should help you", I growled.
Feliciano's 2p smirked.
"(Y/n) is with them. If you want to see her again, you will help me locate them."

Luciano was sitting on my couch like it was his, he was dressed in his brown military uniform, and he was wearing his signature hat.
He was twirling a knife in his hand while staring at me with impatient eyes.
"Hurry up, or else your 2p and his friends might do God knows what."

As the First Player, we are able to locate our Second Player. It just requires a bit of focusing, and you can see their surroundings.
But the Second Players can also do the same.

I frowned.
"I will do it, but under one condition", I said. "(C/n) will stay with me."
Luciano chuckled. "No."
"I'm the only one here who is able to do it!", I shouted.

His chuckle turned into a loud laugh.
"I expected that. I guess I have to turn to someone else", he spoke and stood up, walking to the door.

He had a point.
(Y/n) is in danger.
But then again, Luciano is also a 2p.
Leaving (y/n) with him is also dangerous.

His hand was already wrapped around the doorknob, when I finally decided what to do.

"Wait."

~your pov~

"Ugh..."

My head hurt.
The last thing I remember was seeing that corpse in the back of the trunk before getting hit by something and passing out.

I wanted to lift my hand to hold my head, but my arms were in shackles and I was tied to a chair.

"Awake already, huh."
There was a blonde male sitting on a chair nearby. His accent revealed that he is French.
He was smoking and looked like he didn't give a shit about anything.

"Uh-huh. Where am I?"
He dropped his cigarette stub and squashed it under his foot.
"In a warehouse."
"And... Why exactly am I here?"
He groaned.
"You're asking too many questions", he muttered.

"I'm going to die, no?", I chuckled.
"Oi, give me a cig. I want to try one before I die."
The Frenchman looked at me, a little confused.
"...you shouldn't", he muttered.
"Why not", I asked.
"I know what you're trying to do. You will burn yourself, and you shouldn't smoke."

He then sat down again and lighted another cigarette for himself.
"If you tell me that I shouldn't smoke, then why do you", I questioned him.

"Because I don't give a shit anymore", the blonde answered.
I frowned.
"Why, you should. Do you want to die because of cancer?"
He didn't respond to this question.

We continued to sit there in silence for what feels like an eternity.

After thirty minutes or something he got up and left, muttering au revoir on the way out.

I stared at the ceiling.
That was a big fucking warehouse.
It was pretty dim, the only light came from the small windows located at the sides of the building.

I wondered what's so special about me.
I'm a (h/c) introvert.
I've never done anything special, never achieved anything of great importance or anything.

Footsteps interrupted my thoughts.
The man from the bakery entered the room. He wore his usual pastel colored attire.

"Hello, p-"
"It's (y/n), not poppet. Thank you", I spoke.
"...(y/n)", he finished.
"Could someone please explain why I'm here", I said, irritated.
The strawberry blonde walked over to the chair and sat down, smiling at me.
"Well, it is complicated, I'd rather wait a little until I tell you."
"I'm going to die before I know", I scoffed.
"But in the meantime, we could talk and get to know each other!"
"I think I know you. I've seen you and your friends at highschool."
"Thats true!" He grinned.

So we started to talk about different topics, about school, life in general, and all that.
I found out that his name was Oliver and he loved to be called Ollie, he was incredibly talented at baking, he hated drinking and smoking, and he lived together with the Frenchie, the Canadian and the American.

"Wow, I-I never had someone to talk to", he spoke. "Francois doesn't pay attention, Allen and Matt are always going out, so..."
He blushed.
I smiled. "I would actually hug you, but..."
I gestured to my shackles.
Oliver chuckled, before standing up and wrapping his arms around me.
He smelled like freshly baked pastries.
I rested my head on his shoulder.

He then pulled away, and sat back down on the chair.

"So, I guess we're friends now, hm?", I asked with a cheery smile.
"Yes! Friends..."
But instead of smiling, Oliver's expression darkened.
He just silently stared at the grey concrete floor.
"Friends... Do they do this to you?", he said, referring to me being tied up.
"Ollie...?"
He didn't respond and kept staring at the floor.

"Did I say something wrong...?", I whispered.
After another few seconds of silence he rose from his seat and approached me.
I would've backed away if I could, but I was immobilized.

And all of a sudden, I was... free.
Oliver unlocked the shackles and cut the rope open.
"Oliver... What are you-"
He interrupted me. "There are iron bars in the back of this room. Hit me with one, then take the front exit."
I looked at him as if he was nuts. "Are you sure?"
He nodded. "It should look like you freed yourself, not that I freed you."
I didn't know what to say.
"I... Thank you..."

So, I got one of said iron bars and returned to Oliver.
He smiled.
"Hit me as hard as you can, love."
"But it might that kill you."
Oliver chuckled.
"It takes more than that to kill me."
I held the iron bar like a baseball bat.
"You wanted it", I said.
And I hit him as hard as he could - feeling very guilty as he fell to the ground.
I looked at the iron bar and it had a little blood on it.
My eyes fell onto him, and we locked eyes.
"Go!", he ordered.

I dropped the iron bar and started to run.
And behind me I heard Oliver talking.
"I need help... The poppet escaped..."

What...?

"Rear exit..."

Oh. He is luring them away from me...

I grinned as I saw the exit.

"Thank you, Oliver."