SOY: third chapter. This is the last one. I hope this ending won't sound… unfitting? Unfulfilling? Unsatisfying? For any of you readers. Please enjoy!

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Rating: R

Warnings: angst, a few suggestive scenes.

Pairings: Germany/Italy, HRE/Chibitalia, HRE/Italy, mentioned Hungar/Prussia/Austria

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

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Living Wish

Chapter 03: With a warm smile

A plate was placed down in front of him, and Heinrich stared up at wide, expectant eyes as Italy stood next to him, almost trembling.

The plate was filled with spaghetti al pomodoro, one of Italy's favourites, and Holy Roman clumsily gathered a forkful of them, sucking them in his mouth and swallowing.

Sauce flicked everywhere and he flushed crimson, quickly wiping it away in shame, only calming down at Italy's amusement.

"That's delicious," he stated truthfully.

Italy's face brightened up, a smile that made Holy Roman flush crimson. "G–grazie! I'm glad you like it!"

"I like anything that you can make, even more so if you prepare it for me, Feliciano" with a smile, the blond pulled the Italian into his lap, scooping up another forkful of spaghetti and holding it in front of Italy's mouth.

Equally flustered at the motion, Italy giggled and opened his mouth, quickly swallowing the pasta, and allowing the German's tongue to clean his lips.

On the door of the kitchen, Romano couldn't but stare in shock at them, uneasy at the sight but at the same time flustered at the warm, loving attitude. Italy looked so happy…

This was…

The entrance door was slammed open, and South Italy turned around, moving through the corridor only to bump straight into Hungary's chest as the woman made her way in.

"Urgh!" Romano fell on the ground, and looked up at the other Nation with a clear pout. "The hell, Elizaveta!"

"Ah –Lovino, I have no time for this, sorry! I had a call from Gilbert, he said that–"

"Holy Roman Empire is back," the Italian finished for her, watching with a vague sort of amusement as her eyes widened even more. "Yes. It's true. He's… they are… they are in the kitchen".

"You have to be kidding me –this cannot happen!" ignoring the still fallen Romano, Hungary ran towards the kitchen, opening the door wide, and freezing on the spot.

There they were –he was older, he was…

"Holy Roman Empire" she murmured, almost reverently.

As if he came out from a dream, or a book –older, mature…

Holding Italy in his arms, kissing him…

The blond parted from Italy, looking to the side where Hungary was staring at him. In a second, his lips had twitched upwards, eyes brightened, and he stood up, careful to let Italy down first.

"Elizaveta!" then he was hugging her –a clumsy, embarrassed hug, and Hungary was shocked to see he was taller than her, clearly stronger, yet so similar to… "You've become beautiful".

"You are… how…" unable to speak, she would have fallen on the ground if not for the other's grip on her arms, then she was being pulled to a chair, Italy offering her a glass of water, with a worried expression.

"Are you ok, sister Eli?" he asked, frowning.

Hungary couldn't but notice how one of his hands was intertwined with that of HRE.

"I… how…" she shook her head, at loss of words.

"It was thanks to you… and Mr. Roderich, and brother Gilbert," Holy Roman Empire (God. It was him. Alive. In blood and bones) stated, smiling at her. He brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed it gently, reverently. "Had you not wished for this, for my Italy to be happy…"

Ears buzzing in shock, Hungary vaguely grasped the meaning of his words, yet couldn't wrap her mind around them.

Wish.

A wish.

'I wish Feli could be happy'.

Her wish. Was this real? Had her wish just been granted in such an… unexpected way?

"…. I wouldn't be there," he concluded.

No. she hadn't wanted this to happen –she had wished that… Germany…

Glancing at a smiling Italy, the way he kept his eyes on their joined hands, Hungary felt a sudden fear roll through her.

Was this even good? How could a wish hold so much power to make something like this possible…?

"Don't worry, Elizaveta," Holy Roman Empire was still looking at her, eyes flashing with some sort of knowledge that she couldn't understand. "I am here for a reason".

She had no time to say anything else about it, because Holy Roman Empire straightened up, still holding Italy's hand. "You will have to excuse me, now, Elizaveta," he stated stiffly, cheeks turning red. "I am going to keep a promise to Feliciano and paint with him".

"O–of course," she nodded, feeling as if she was missing the bigger picture, but unable to clearly work yet. "Feli… what about Ludw–"

She interrupted herself as she noticed Italy's face dim lightly. Prussia had not been clear when he'd called over, babbling about HRE coming back to life (and being unable to call Austria since he was neck deep into a meeting with his boss), but what she had managed to understand was that Germany was still at home, unsure on what to do.

Hungary stared at Italy's face, feeling the pull of two opposite forces –squeal in happiness because… well, this was HRE. He was back. Somehow… somehow. It made Italy happy, right? But at the same time, HRE had not been there for the last centuries, at Italy's side. Watching over him, spending time with him…

Germany had. Why wasn't Germany there?

Italy's eyes had been pained when Hungary had mentioned Germany's name. HRE was back, yet Italy's thoughts were also on Germany. How could that not happen, when he had both of his loved ones present and…

Was that stupid German really so thick headed to not notice about Italy's pain?

Was he really not interested, in the end? Hungary had been sure he would get it, but if even HRE's presence couldn't do it, then…

She stood up, nodding at them and running out of the room. She had somewhere to go.

…–…–…–…

Italy was not happy.

There was something inside him that was squirming, almost hoping to be let out, but he couldn't understand what it was.

He was spending time with HRE, he should be so happy that nothing else mattered, yet he kept thinking about Germany's cold face, and thought sticking in his mind, the mental image wouldn't let him go.

Trying to forget that expression –why had Germany looked like he wanted Italy gone?

Maybe finding someone you didn't know in your bed was strange, but the coldness he'd reserved for Italy was far too much; it wasn't Italy's fault, after all, and still…

Maybe giving him time to adjust and forgive would be enough. That emotionless face would disappear from his mind, and Italy would–

"Feliciano?" a warm hand on his cheek, and Italy blinked, staring into dark blue eyes. "A–am I doing this wrong? Are you bored?"

Eyes widening, Italy shook his head wildly, his fingers gripping tightly around the brush he was holding.

HRE was here with him –he shouldn't be thinking about Germany anymore. That wasn't an option anymore, he should have realised that long ago, before it could start being so painful… there was Heinrich with him now, and the blond loved him.

Spending time eating, walking, painting together… hadn't he wanted this? wasn't this his secret dream?

Then why did he still want to run to Germany?

Why did Ludwig's face keep overlapping that of Heinrich?

Italy wanted to paint with Germany. He wanted to play soccer with him, allow the German man to read for him, in his gruff, hesitant voice that made him feel so enamoured.

He wanted to cook for Germany, make him eat all he could make, and wanted Germany to flush in embarrassment, muttering compliments that would make Italy feel important.

He wanted to curl at Germany's side and be kissed and held and…

"I–is this ok?" once again, Heinrich's voice called him out from his thoughts.

Italy blinked and looked up, feeling his lips tug upwards at the amusing picture of a cat that the other had tried to paint. Once again, as if no time had passed, Italy found himself leaning forwards, hand grasping that of the Holy Roman, gently helping him correct the way the paws had to look.

Heinrich was blushing and staring more at their joined hands than at the painting, smiling at Italy in a way that made his heart flutter painfully.

Gently, Heinrich cupped his chin and dropped a soft kiss on his cheeks, smiling at him with open, bright eyes.

"I've always admired your skills at painting," he murmured, kissing him again, this time on his lips. "I am glad I could see you paint again…"

Italy swallowed down his uneasiness, and pushed Germany away from his thoughts. There was no place for him. there couldn't be.

Looking away from Holy Roman, Italy resumed his painting, trying to chase away the darkness in his heart with bright, vivid colours.

…–…–…–…

"What are you doing here?"

Germany looked up sharply, staring at an enraged Hungary ran into his office, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

How did she get into his house? He was sure he'd locked the door…

"I don't understand what you mean" he replied, satisfied with the way his voice didn't waver. A furious Hungary was enough to scare away even Belarus. "I'm working".

That was blatantly a lie, one that Hungary could see through without even trying, if the bottles of beer scattered everywhere in the office were anything to go by.

Yes, Germany had decided to drown himself in alcohol. Effective and pleasant, it could make the pain in his heart vanish. If he managed to get drunk enough, of course.

"Why aren't you… why aren't you trying to get Feli back?" Hungary kicked one bottle with her high heels, and it sailed in the air only to fall down on the carpet with an empty thud. Germany grimaced, glad she had kicked an empty bottle and not one half–full.

"Why should I?" he grunted, turning his back to her and searching for some leftover beer. He wasn't even close to being drunk, but it appeared like Prussia had already gotten his hands on his reserves.

All of his reserves, even the hidden ones. Damn him.

"Don't you…" Hungary hesitated, her anger suddenly dissipating as she was faced with the question nobody had dared to ask to Germany. "Don't you… care for Feliciano?" she continued, choosing her words carefully.

Germany's hands turned into tight fists.

"Of course I do" he mumbled, cheeks reddening. "That is exactly why I am here".

All other Nations had probably laughed at Germany behind his back for ages, and he was finally realising that they were right –he had been so very blind. Not realising someone else's feelings was one thing, but to not being able to realise his own feelings for a person was different.

He had been swimming in denial for so long, simply taking for granted that Italy would always stay at his side, smiling and hugging him and demanding his attention. He had never thought that one day someone could just appear from thin air and take him away.

He'd been a blind idiot.

He loved Italy. He'd loved him for… he wasn't even sure since when, actually –the more he thought back now, the more he realised how important Italy's gestures of friendship and care had been for him.

His behaviour had somehow turned from being annoying to something he secretly enjoyed; the shows of affection, his hugs, even his pleas to be kissed… Germany wanted Italy's attention to be on him, and no one else.

"Ludwig… Heinrich is with him… he's… they are…" Hungary really couldn't say the words aloud, but the stiffening of Germany's shoulders made her aware that he knew exactly what was going on. "Are you giving up on him?"

Germany turned around sharply, and only a strong pain coming from his fist made him realise he had punched the wall. He stared down at his hand in shock, but the pain flaring through his arm helped him focus again.

"I… I want him to be happy" he growled, tone lowering into that of a wounded dog.

"Are you sure he's happy with him, then?" Hungary's eyes narrowed in anger.

"Haven't you seen his face?" Germany refused to look at the woman and concentrated his attention towards the wall. "That person… that… Heinrich… Feliciano clearly loves him! He's happy!"

Hungary's reply caught him unprepared, as she backed away from him and looked out of the window, voice calm.

"Happier than when he's with you?"

He froze, and slowly looked at her, blinking softly to calm the wave of emotions filling him. It wasn't easy to control what he felt, not when he had a long history of repressing them –yet now the anger at the Holy Roman Empire, at himself for his own idiocy, the feeling of uselessness… everything was washing through him, stealing his breath.

How was he supposed to even think about it all when the mere mention of him sent his brain into fits of fury?

"Shouldn't you also think about what you want, too, Ludwig?" Hungary was smiling, and it was her smile that rattled Germany's control of his emotions once again. "You say that Feliciano is important to you… but you should also seek your own happiness, not just his".

Was it just this simple? He wanted Italy. But that didn't mean Italy would want him back.

"If you feel angered that he chose him, why don't you try to talk to Feli?" Hungary shook her head. "If you stay here, you'll lose him. Is that what you want?"

"… I…" no, obviously not. But Germany didn't want to force his feelings on Italy, not now that there was someone else for the Italian nation to lo…

His fist found its way to the wall again, and he bit on his lips to keep calm; thinking about that person stealing Italy away from him…

"You never showed Feli that you thought of him as anything different than a friend, Ludwig… how could he consider you as a potential love if you never thought of yourself as one either?" Hungary's smile had turned pained –familiar, yet disconcerting. "I don't want either of you to be hurt, so please, Ludwig…"

Germany clenched his fists once more, closing his eyes.

"Just…" she turned her back to him, deciding to leave. "For once, do the right thing, Ludwig, don't let it go without fighting".

Her footsteps echoed in the silence, together with the front door opening and closing, and Germany fell down on a chair, hiding his face in his hands.

…–…–…–…

Heinrich gently brushed his hand against Italy's cheek, staring deeply into the brown eyes of his love. Italy let out a soft whimper, moving closer to his touch.

"Meine Italien," he murmured, leaning forwards again.

Their lips touched, another chaste kiss, and HRE used that moment to push forwards, trapping Italy's heated body underneath his own; lapping gently at Italy's lips, he traced them with his tongue, slipping past them and ravishing his Italy.

One hand slipped lower, brushing down to the Italian's sides, cheeks flushing as he dared to slip underneath the blue shirt, meeting the naked skin underneath.

Italy mewled in the kiss, arms arching to grasp at his back, eyes falling shut.

Heinrich smiled, hand brushing upwards, fingers mapping out Italy's chest, massaging his nipples, lips moving to his neck, lavishing it with attention.

"Ah… H–Heinrich…"

Hands moving lower…

"Y–you're ok with me being… I mean… I am…" flushing crimson, embarrassed of his own words, Italy tried to stop the wandering hands of Holy Roman Empire from moving too low.

It had moved so quickly, all considered –Italy didn't even know if he wanted to slow things down or gather Heinrich into his arms and beg for more contact; the day had been a blur, and now…

"A male?" similarly flushed cheeks, Heinrich chuckled against Italy's neck. "I realise you're a male, even though I didn't know, back then… but Feliciano is still the person I fell in love with… why wouldn't I be ok with this?"

Fingers gently cupped Italy's groin, having him fall back on the bed, flushing at the intimate touch, moaning softly.

Completely abandoned on the bed, Italy could only feel as HRE devoted all of his attention to his body, reverent, each touch gentle and probing, making him shiver in pleasure.

Fingers on his nipples, tongue licking his neck, lips sucking on it, one of Heinrich's hands intertwined with his own…

Having never been touched that way by anyone –that sweetly, with such a tender, loving touch– Italy couldn't compare what he was feeling to anything he had known before. It was… overwhelming… pleasant–

'How much since I've wanted Ludwig to touch me like this?'

Italy froze.

This was Holy Roman, not Germany.

Here he was, being held and loved and showered with care by Heinrich, and he couldn't stop himself from thinking about Germany.

The same Germany he'd devoted his whole attention for almost a century, spending time with him, cooking for him, sleeping in his bed, soothed by the soft, even breathing, by his frame outlined by the moon's light from the window…

Suddenly, HRE's touches lost all their meaning.

"S–stop" he pleaded, shivering when the hands roaming on his body stilled.

Opening his eyes, he stared into the deep blue ones of Heinrich, filled with love, and felt his heart skip a beat. He couldn't understand, but he had to think. He couldn't let him continue, not when he still wanted Germany to be the one to…

Heinrich moved away from him, as if sensing the clogged up feelings piling up behind the Italian's brown eyes, and with steady fingers he wiped away the tears that were rolling down his cheeks, and that he'd not noticed.

"I… I…" Italy shook his head, sitting on the bed and staring at anything but Heinrich.

He'd loved Germany, and had felt so guilty for that –HRE and Germany were two different Nations, and one was gone, whilst the other was still here, yet Italy had been unable to forget about his first love, feeling bad for his inability to let him go.

He'd thought that his feelings for Germany had stemmed over his love for HRE, despite his own words and his own denial… but now that he seen both of them together, he'd realised that they were different.

The kid he'd loved when little, and the man he'd fallen in love with during both World Wars… just like he'd said more than once to his heart, to others, Germany was his love.

He loved HRE dearly, but…

He also loved Germany just as much. Maybe even more. Because maybe Germany didn't return his feelings, but that didn't mean Italy loved him any less… he'd been at his side so much, helping him, spending time with him, protecting him from dangers, consoling him when nightmares approached…

His feelings for Germany were strong, deeper and more real than what he'd felt for Holy Roman Empire, despite him being here as well, now…

To be true to himself, he couldn't keep doing things with HRE –because even if he'd come back, even if he was back after so much… Italy had already fallen in love with someone else, and this… Heinrich, and Ludwig…

He couldn't. He wanted Germany.

How could he explain all the multitude of feelings inside him? How could he tell his HRE that in all that time, he'd missed him yet he'd fallen in love with someone else?

Why did it feel like he was cheating on both of them now?

"Feliciano…" HRE's voice was warm, understanding, one hand still on his cheek, warm and comforting, and–

"I can't" he murmured. "You… Heinrich… why did you come back? How did you come back?"

HRE smiled. The same smile Italy loved so much. "I am here for you. Only you. To make you happy…"

"Feliciano!"

The door of his bedroom slammed open, and there he was –Germany, dishevelled and angry, looking for once completely and utterly distressed. Both Italy and HRE turned towards him, Italy's eyes widening in shock.

"Ve… ve~ L–Ludwig?" cheeks aflame, Italy curled up on himself, not sure of what was going on.

At the sight of the two on the bed, Germany faltered and took a step back, eyes darting between Italy and the Holy Roman Empire, suddenly losing all his drive.

HRE stood up slowly, cracking his neck with a smug smirk, and stared straight into Germany's eyes.

"Do you need to say something to meine Italien, Ludwig?"

Had he not spoken, Germany would have backpedalled away from the room, ashamed and losing all his courage to finally sort things out with Italy, his rage and possessiveness faltering with the knowledge of what the two were actually doing, but when he heard Heinrich call Italy his own, Germany felt his anger resurface again.

He could not allow him that.

"Feliciano!" he yelled again, ignoring the way his own cheeks burned red. "I… I cannot let him take you away from me! I… I love you!"

He stood there, panting, one hand clenched around the doorframe, eyes staring at Italy and only at him.

It had taken so much for him to move and come here, to finally tell Italy exactly what his feelings were… he didn't want anything to interrupt.

Italy gasped, his heart soaring to his throat, constricting and ready to burst.

Germany had just…

"I…" he didn't know what to say.

"Feliciano, I… Io te… ti… Io ti amo" the German Nation grunted out, hoping that his Italian was correct. "I'm… I couldn't realise it before, I was… I was an idiot, but I… you're important to me. Your presence, just… you, Feliciano" he was almost desperate now, grasping for the right words to express his feelings.

He felt that he was going to burst into flames, so hot his cheeks felt, but he had no intentions to stop or back down.

"I… I know you like him, Feliciano," he continued, pointing an accusing finger towards HRE, who was regarding him with what could have been a satisfied smile, "but… I had to take this chance and tell you, because I've been blind for a long time. I was the one at your side for the last century. I was the one who protected you during the war, and afterwards. You cooked for me, spent time with me –slept in my bed" burning in embarrassment, Germany cleared his throat "I don't want this to end. I want more from you. Kiss You, hold you in my arms… I love you, Feliciano, and I couldn't but think that if you allowed us to be this… close, it might mean you feel something for me as well".

For a moment, Italy completely forgot HRE's presence, and stared up at Germany's wide eyes, tears still falling down his cheeks. "I… is this the truth?"

"It is" Germany's eyes were deep and serious, his lips tightened in a thin line. "I came to expect your presence in my life so much that I never paid attention to my own feelings for you… it feels like I've loved you for so long, yet I've only realised it now…"

Flushing, Germany came to a halt, and finally looked away.

Italy didn't know what to say, what to think –Germany's words were exactly what he'd been hoping for, what he'd craved to hear, his heart so full–

He had waited these words from Germany, not the Holy Roman Empire. Because even though he still loved the memory of his Holy Roman, holding him dear in his heart, he had been unable to understand that he'd already let go of that lost memory, loving someone else.

If Holy Roman Empire hadn't returned, making him face the reality of his feelings… Italy would have never realised it. He would have still kept his feelings tightly suppressed in his heart, seeing Germany as nothing but a painful reminder of Holy Roman, refusing to truly believe that the two were really different.

Even if Heinrich was here, even if he'd devoted his attention to him, making him happy, making him smile, Italy's heart had not been with him, but with Germany.

He had grown to love Germany for being Germany. Ludwig. A separate entity, someone he could love despite everything.

At first, Italy had still seen Germany as a substitute for his Holy Roman, refusing to get any closer in fear that everything could change, that this Germany would reveal himself to be too similar to his old love…

He had been wrong. Germany had things in common with the Holy Roman Empire, yes, but the more Italy had spent time with him, the more he had realised that the two were different, that they were not the same.

And he had fallen in love with Germany because he was Germany.

It was so simple, yet so painful, and Italy felt his chest constrict suddenly. There wasn't really a choice to be made, after all. "I–"

A pair of strong arms embraced him, as Heinrich held him close for a moment. The warm familiar lips brushed against his forehead again, then Holy Roman Empire was standing up, smiling at him, with nothing but warmth in his eyes.

"That's it, isn't it?" he murmured. "You made your decision".

Italy felt suddenly cold. "Hein–"

"I told you, my Italy… I've always loved you, and I never stopped, not even for a moment," he turned around, facing Germany, who was looking at him in shock. "Feelings such as those would only grow with time, right? Since the heart is still the same".

Italy blinked, and suddenly Holy Roman's body blurred slightly in front of him.

He walked towards Germany, and with every step he took, his whole body turned more transparent, glittering in fragments –first his hands, legs, the hem of his cloak, then his hat, his arms, his torso…

"Wai–" Italy desperately shifted forwards, one arm extending towards the fading frame of his first love, but HRE was only staring at Germany now.

"In the end, you only needed to realise it yourself" a small smile on his transparent lips. "Both of you, actually…"

For a moment, Germany and Holy Roman Empire stood face to face –almost identical, almost the same, yet so different– serious, silent. Holy Roman Empire smiled, proudly, at the younger Nation.

"Protect my love" he murmured, and for Germany, that 'my' was also a 'your' and ultimately echoed into 'our', his heart thumping wildly in his chest, resonating strongly through Holy Roman Empire's heart as well, the two sounds turning into a single one, and HRE was stepping forwards, eyes open wide and– "never let him go. Me and you, we've waited far too long already".

And Germany had barely enough time to just finally get it, that Heinrich vanished in a thousand million shining fragments, dissipating in thin air as he stepped through Germany's body, fragments attaching themselves to his skin, dissolving into it.

And every fragment shimmered with a small memory, a feeling that swept through his mind, gently, not to shock or hurt but to complete, of a time when Germany was striving to be bigger, of a time when Germany had yet to become Germany, when he wasn't Germany at all, but someone else, of a time when he was small and crushing on a young, cute little maid–

One and the same, yet different

Running through big corridors, looking up at giant paintings hanging on high walls…

Of flowers and plates of pasta left in front of a door, running away with cheeks aflame–

Of swords clashing together, and fluttering cloaks in the cold wind on a battlefield, rushing against the enemy, without fear…

The smell of crayons and oil paintings, of afternoons spent drawing together,

The melodies echoing from Austria's room, to whom Italy would sing, with him spying from behind a wall…

Everything nudged at him, flowing like an endless river, fitting every corner, every fold and finally the memories of a past he didn't have fell into place, humming and content –soothing.

Germany closed his eyes, complete for the first time in over two hundred years, and let tears fall down his cheeks, unable to stop them. Memories that he'd wished for, memories he didn't even know he was missing, an emptied void now filled, that part of his past he couldn't remember having…

The same heart –Heinrich and Ludwig's– for one single love the two of them had shared… because Holy Roman Empire had been right in his carefully chosen words. Germany had always loved Italy, ever since the '900, and he'd never stopped loving him. Not even when part of him had been buried deep within himself, waiting to be freed.

One and the same. Buried deep inside him, another person, another life, but a life that in the end was him all the same.

But of course, Italy had to first learn to love Germany. Clinging at the ghost of his love wouldn't have allowed him to love Germany for what he was –because even with memories from before, Germany was still… Germany.

And Holy Roman Empire was gone. He'd been gone for many, many years.

Germany, a Nation that had grown on his own, standing up for himself, fighting his own battles without anything to back him up aside from his own strength…

"L–Ludwig?"

Opening his eyes, Germany stared at the trembling Italian still sitting on the bed, as if seeing him for the first time after a long while; he wasn't even aware that his legs were bringing him closer until he was at the Italian Nation's side, leaning down to hold him in his arms with all of his strength.

Not wanting to let go.

"So it was you… it really was you…" Italy was crying again, but this time Germany could understand. "It feels so…"

Wrong –he'd spent decades convincing himself that Germany was not Holy Roman Empire, only to fall for both, and in the end, choosing one, they–

"I love you, Feliciano" he murmured. "I love you. I've always loved you".

And the rush of raw emotions he felt were all of his own –a bittersweet feeling of having missed Italy, even though he'd seen him every day for centuries, the need to hold him in his arms, and never, ever let him go again.

At the same time, Germany felt the raw desire to kiss Italy –because he had yet to taste him, to feel his warmth and his love.

Germany leaned forwards and finally –finally– joined lips with Italy in a wet, desperate kiss, not their first kiss, but a first kiss all the same.

Sweet yet salty for their shared tears, frantic, needy and delicious, Germany tasted and licked at Italy's lips, unable to stop, kissing and nibbling and holding the other Nation's body so close to his own that they were not two anymore, but a single being.

"Ludwig… Ludwig…" barely parting to breath, they clutched at each other, Italy's soft whispers driving Germany's rational brain crazy, covering the lither body with his own, hands slipping to press feathery touches on his soft, smooth skin… "ti amo… ti amo… ti amo, io–"

All words faded into silence as Germany kissed Italy again. They would have all the time in the world to talk later… but now, all he wanted was to hold his Italy close.

A single shimmering sparkle of light gently twirled out of the room and into the night, spinning in the cold air, sailing higher and higher, above the roofs and the treetops, twinkling at the figures of Hungary, Prussia and Austria moving to Italy's house, then vanished in the darkness, just when a gust of wind finally pushed the heavy, dark clouds away, revealing a star–filled sky.

No more ghosts. No more tears. The wishes had been fulfilled.

…–…–…–…–…–…–…

SOY: that was it. If you find it in yourself, please drop a review, thank you very much :) any kind of feedback will be loved, I swear ^^

Grazie (Italian) – Thank you

Meine Italien (German) – my Italy

Ti amo (Italian) – I love you