Don't Go

Food Scraps

Italy was crying, hands over his stomach that began rumbling as he stumbled his way over to a big crate. "Pasta, are you hiding here?" He groaned, as he pulled the lid open of the crate and peeked inside, but there was no pasta inside, but foreign food that he was not willing to try. The smell was lacking flavour and he could tell that the food was under-cooked as he was a gourmet. "No way I'm eating this crap!" Italy complained, stomach grumbling again as his hands clutched the edge of the crate.

Holy Rome happened to pass by, carrying a plate of hot food for himself. He wasn't very rich either, but at least he was not picky about the food he was given. He stopped, seeing Italy's sickly pale face as he began trembling by the crate.

Sighing, Holy Rome glanced down at his food, steam billowing out from the plate. He put the plate down on the ground as he ran past, hiding behind a grey wall.

Italy's stomach groaned. "I'm so hungry!" He moaned, then seemed to smell hot food coming from behind him. He shut the crate and turned around, seeing the plate on the floor with hot steam coming out, but Holy Rome was nowhere to be seen. "Hold on," Italy asked, "Is that food? Is it there for me?"

He smiled, no longer pulling a pained expression as he skipped over to the plate and stared down at it, merrily. "Thank you, whoever you are!" He picked up a dumpling from the plate and tossed it into his mouth, chewing on it and swallowing.

Holy Rome stuck his head out from behind the wall and watched Italy eat carefully, satisfied that Italy was not going to starve. Him, however, was fine with eating whatever leftovers Italy had seen in the crate.

However, after Italy swallowed the food, he started to cry again. "This sucks!" And he did not eat anymore of it. Holy Rome stared in shock as he quickly disappeared, in hope Italy would not find out that it was him who gave him the food.

***

Austria was scolding Italy, picking him up, annoyed and irritated as he carried him down the corridor. "What do I do with you?" He spat, Italy staring at the ground as he strode. "You steal food whenever I turn my back!" Austria reached the end of the corner and yanked the door open, throwing Italy inside the dark room.

"Sorry..." Italy said, falling onto the ground.

"You think about what you did!" He reprimanded. "You got it?!"

Italy tilted his head to one side to see Austria grabbing the door angrily. "Si..."

Holy Rome was standing behind Austria, and he stared at Italy with big blue eyes. "Huh..." he whispered quietly to himself, then decided that it was not up to him to interfere and he left, leaving Austria alone with Italy. He would come back for sure, though, because Italy was still starving, and he had to get Italy food that he could eat.

After Austria finished scolding Italy, who began to cry, he slammed the door shut, and left, leaving Italy trapped in complete darkness. The only light that came into the room was from the gaps between the door and the walls, which left a white outline of the door.

He began to sob harder, and wept, worried about what was going to happen, for he was both hungry and alone. "I am starving in here!" He shouted desperately, tears rolling down even thicker and faster than before.

Half an hour later, Holy Rome returned, carrying a bowl of hot spaghetti, and slid the food through a flap in the door (which was meant for Austria to feed Italy). Italy noticed the spaghetti and grinned, excited, as he reached for the food and began devouring the food rapidly. It had been a while since he could eat proper Italian food, and he was grateful to taste it again, so he did not need to starve.

Holy Rome smiled, leaning against the door from the outside, hearing that Italy seemed satisfied with the taste of the food and was no longer sobbing or complaining, his mood changing very quickly.

"Thank you, Austria!" Italy announced cheerfully. "I'll be good again!"

Holy Rome's eyes widened and that, and then, he smiled sadly, moving away from the door and thinking that it was best that Italy never found out it was him, for he'd be in trouble if people found out he had stolen spaghetti for Italy.

France was watching from a distance, and he decided to head over to Holy Rome, who looked up at him. France smirked, leaning against the door next to him, tilting his head sideways to face him. "You're not giving up, are you?"

Holy Rome shook his head, looking straight ahead. He loved Italy, and he knew that there was no chance he could give up, especially as that meant France had an opportunity to take control of Italy. "She'll join me soon... I know she will."

France laughed and Holy Rome looked at him oddly. "I don't think so, Holy Rome. You can keep chasing after Italy, but what do you think you'll get out of that? Italy will never join you - he is afraid of what his grandpa told him. He'll join me before he joins you!" His blue eyes were sparkling with victory and Holy Rome frowned.

"Even if that's true," he said. "I'm not giving up. I won't give up on Italy."