Don't Go

The Day We Met

"Miss Hungary!" Holy Rome called out, running inside the house with a huge smile plastered over his face. The one addressed smiled sweetly back at him, crouching to his height level, her soft brown hair falling gracefully over her face as she greeted him.

"How are you doing, Holy Rome?" She asked him kindly, green eyes fluttering shut before opening again, the flower in her hair drooping a little.

"Good," he replied with a small voice as he plodded down the corridor, heading towards his room, before Hungary stopped him.

Her voice was shy, almost as if she was trying to hide something, but her smile made him feel at ease again. "Wait," she said, and he turned around and looked up at her, blue eyes wide. He was still wearing his black hat with his matching black tunic, but Hungary was wearing a maroon maid's dress with red puffy sleeves and a yellow bonnet. "We've got someone new," she continued, and Austria seemed to hear them, as he stuck his head around the corner before making his way over to Hungary's side.

"Yes, we have a maid," Austria explained. "She's inside the living room."

A girl? Holy Rome thought, feeling his cheeks become hot and redden. A girl in the room? His short fingers reached the doorknob as his hand encircled it, twisting it to one side and gently opening the door a little to peer inside. Surely enough, there was a girl inside, and she was wearing a puffy green maid's dress, which he guessed belonged to Hungary when she was smaller, and the girl was wearing a huge white bonnet as her tiny hands held a brown broom. Under her dress were long yellow sleeves that were rolled up, in order for her pale hands to reach the broom. She was not facing him, so he could only see a dark curl sticking out from the side of her head.

Hungary laughed stylishly. "That's little Italy!" she told him, before disappearing off with Austria into the kitchen as Holy Rome stood at the doorway, staring at Italy, his cheeks burning red. Awkwardly, he pulled the door inwards, so that the gap was smaller, just about big enough to fit his head through. Italy did not seem to notice that she was being watched, and was cutely humming as she began scrubbing the floor with her broom.

For a moment, Holy Rome could no longer hear Italy's humming, over the sound of his thumping heart and his quickening breathing rate. His eyes were huge, barely blinking as he watched her, wanting to get her attention somehow, without embarrassing himself and also without disturbing her.

There was a huge white bow at the back of her dress as he stretched his arm out and tugged it, before quickly letting go and closing the door, nearly falling backwards from his haste. Italy turned around, but was not fast enough to see him, only seeing a closed door behind her. "Hm?" Italy asked quietly, but Holy Rome was right outside, and heard her. He could not help himself, so decided to open the door again, feeling his face burn incredibly hot as he braced himself, blue eyes piercing with pain and worry.

"AHHHHH!!!!" Italy shrieked loudly, petrified by Holy Rome's fiery countenance and his sudden presence at the door. Italy's mouth was dangling wide open, as she dropped her broom, her hands pressed against each other in fear. Tears began forming quickly in her eyes as she cried shakily; "I'm sorry! I'll do anything! Please don't hit me!"

Holy Rome stared, eyes full of shock and disbelief. "Why would I hit you?" He asked quietly, feeling ashamed that his appearance terrified her. "And why are you apologising... it should be me, for startling you."

Italy tried to smile, but the tears were rolling down her face - it was too late, and Holy Rome knew it. He had made her cry and he had only just met her. Even if he could make up for it, even if he could apologise, it would be no use. The damage was done and it could not be taken back.

"I'm sorry," he muttered quickly, but then turned around, feeling entirely abashed as his disappeared out of the room into the corridor, his dark cloak trailing behind. He wanted to look back at Italy, to stay longer, but he knew that it was no use, for his first impression had already been a disaster. Italy was so fragile, with tears that could pour like a fountain, and with a body that could tremble like an earthquake. Feeling his cheeks flush red again, he decided that it was best for him to stay out the room, until Italy was gone.

"Hm?" Italy asked, entirely clueless, eyes watering and cheeks blushing. "Huh? What's the matter?" She was left staring at the open door, the empty corridor, but Holy Rome was long gone. She could have stopped him, but she saw no reason to stop him, for it was his own choice to leave her.

Slamming his bedroom door, Holy Rome jumped onto the bed, feeling his body sink a little into the blue duvet. His mind was buzzing of different images of Italy: her short auburn hair and unique brown curl, her tightly shut tearful eyes, adorable dress and a delicate disposition. Holy Rome smiled at the thought of her, cuddling his pink pillow between his legs and chest tightly, as if it was Italy there, and he could hug her.

It was too soon, and he knew it. They had only just met, and there was no chance Italy liked him - she was so terrified of him. He pulled the pillow over his face and collapsed down onto the bed, sobbing into his pillow and rocking side to side as he cried.

He was loud enough to be heard from the hallway, and Austria yelled at him; "Be quiet and control yourself!"

However, he did not quieten down in the slightest, overwhelmed with both mortification and misery.