Shadows [2/?]
anonymous
July 17 2009, 21:33:25 UTC
There wasn’t any emotion in these words, they just formed a simple fact. Something to write down in history books, to memorize. Something you need to know, for situations no one can think of. Situations like these.
Romano didn’t frown. He didn’t call Prussia pathetic, he didn’t laugh. Instead, he held his breath.
He closed his eyes.
Prussia could have said anything, anything at all, and they would be at each other’s throats again. Anything, even nothing at all, and he would have taken the opportunity to raise his voice, because that’s what he does. That’s who he is. Who he has to be, to stay alive, so anything would do.
Anything but this.
Because this was something he couldn’t laugh about. He couldn’t make fun of it, he couldn’t blame Prussia for it, he couldn’t even call him an asshole for being so weak, because deep down inside he knew; he wasn’t much better.
Romano was an expert at hiding his own feelings. He would lie straight to anyone’s face to protect his heart and pride, to protect that tiny bit of existence he had left. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t lie to himself, and he certainly couldn’t lie about this.
Thus, he let his mind wander.
Behind closed eyes he saw his brother, waving happily, calling him to come to where he is standing, across the river. A part of him wants to leap and reach out, yet the remaining part is scared. What would become of him, how could uniting with him be a good choice? If he hadn’t been anything but ‘Italy’s lesser half’ for his entire life, then why would anyone want to have him back?
Still, his brother did want him back. Those shining eyes and open arms did look alluring, promising, and he longed for someone to just hold him and love him for who he was. Alone, he wasn’t getting anywhere.
So he leaped. He reached.
At first there were smiles, two brothers united in harmony. Finally. But, at the end of the day, he came to the painful conclusion that nothing had changed. They weren’t Italy. His brother was Italy. He was the nice one, the talented one, the one everyone loved to be around. At the end of the day Romano was still Romano, nothing more, yet a little less at losing his own boundaries. He had become the shadow of his twin, stuck to his feet and always there, but unable to make moves on his own.
“Yeah, I.. get it.” Romano breathed softly, almost inaudible but loud enough for Prussia to look up. One look at Romano was all he needed to read him completely, and he nodded, knowing he understood. He would.
After all, the pain of dissolving was something unable to be explained. There were no words to write it down, there was no voice to speak the words.
There was a time where Prussia thought it would be alright. After all, unifying with your own family, family you love deeply, couldn’t be a bad thing. In the end, it became clear that this love only made it worse, because he could see his brother rising slowly, growing into someone so strong, so powerful, and he knew, he just knew.
He was doing fine without him.
West would have gotten there without him, because when it came to it, Prussia just wasn’t strong enough to hold himself up. There was no way around it, no reasoning to hide behind. Not even his own grounds to stand on, because those weren’t his anymore. They weren’t theirs either. They were Germany’s.
His eyes met Romano’s, reflecting the same hidden sadness, the same frustrating loneliness of being consumed and darn it- he felt like crying.
Romano didn’t frown. He didn’t call Prussia pathetic, he didn’t laugh. Instead, he held his breath.
He closed his eyes.
Prussia could have said anything, anything at all, and they would be at each other’s throats again. Anything, even nothing at all, and he would have taken the opportunity to raise his voice, because that’s what he does. That’s who he is. Who he has to be, to stay alive, so anything would do.
Anything but this.
Because this was something he couldn’t laugh about. He couldn’t make fun of it, he couldn’t blame Prussia for it, he couldn’t even call him an asshole for being so weak, because deep down inside he knew; he wasn’t much better.
Romano was an expert at hiding his own feelings. He would lie straight to anyone’s face to protect his heart and pride, to protect that tiny bit of existence he had left. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t lie to himself, and he certainly couldn’t lie about this.
Thus, he let his mind wander.
Behind closed eyes he saw his brother, waving happily, calling him to come to where he is standing, across the river. A part of him wants to leap and reach out, yet the remaining part is scared. What would become of him, how could uniting with him be a good choice? If he hadn’t been anything but ‘Italy’s lesser half’ for his entire life, then why would anyone want to have him back?
Still, his brother did want him back. Those shining eyes and open arms did look alluring, promising, and he longed for someone to just hold him and love him for who he was. Alone, he wasn’t getting anywhere.
So he leaped. He reached.
At first there were smiles, two brothers united in harmony. Finally. But, at the end of the day, he came to the painful conclusion that nothing had changed. They weren’t Italy. His brother was Italy. He was the nice one, the talented one, the one everyone loved to be around. At the end of the day Romano was still Romano, nothing more, yet a little less at losing his own boundaries. He had become the shadow of his twin, stuck to his feet and always there, but unable to make moves on his own.
“Yeah, I.. get it.” Romano breathed softly, almost inaudible but loud enough for Prussia to look up. One look at Romano was all he needed to read him completely, and he nodded, knowing he understood. He would.
After all, the pain of dissolving was something unable to be explained. There were no words to write it down, there was no voice to speak the words.
There was a time where Prussia thought it would be alright. After all, unifying with your own family, family you love deeply, couldn’t be a bad thing. In the end, it became clear that this love only made it worse, because he could see his brother rising slowly, growing into someone so strong, so powerful, and he knew, he just knew.
He was doing fine without him.
West would have gotten there without him, because when it came to it, Prussia just wasn’t strong enough to hold himself up. There was no way around it, no reasoning to hide behind. Not even his own grounds to stand on, because those weren’t his anymore. They weren’t theirs either. They were Germany’s.
His eyes met Romano’s, reflecting the same hidden sadness, the same frustrating loneliness of being consumed and darn it- he felt like crying.
He could cry. It wouldn’t matter.
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