This fanfiction was written for the writing community Syllables of Time.
Title: Love of War
Author: mattomero
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters / Couple : Germany / North Italy (implied), America, South Italy.
Rating: PG
Prompt: 1. Slow like honey
Word Count: 848
Warnings: Shounen-ai , set in the postwar period.
Disclaimer: The characters described here belong author, Hidekazu Himaruya.
Notes:
1. The characters created by Himaruya are merely personifications of the various nations of the world, if it may offend you ... look for another reading. XD
2. Again these characters possess its name "human" but, in the case of Italy (split into two characters by the author, South Italy and North Italy - to emphasize how many centuries for our two "sides" have remained divided ), there is more of a name to which you can refer to. Northern Italy is shown by Himaruya (and also in the anime of Hetalia) as Venice Italy, while his real name is Feliciano Vargas.
3. The fanfiction is the title track to the # 22 album containing the soundtrack of the animated film Howl's Moving Castle (Howl's Moving Castle ).
Love of War
Alfred Vargas paused in the doorway, breathing in the strange quiet that reigned there.
In fact, should have been in his room to prepare for the luggage - the war is over, finished his task in the boot, it was time to return - but could not really calm down.
feel a sense of disquiet among those walls.
Solitude. Tetra, pervasive loneliness.
*
felt her sighs. The sobbing without tears.
Every single word was a spirit of sadness and resignation.
"This war has left you so destroyed?" He asked.
"It's not that. Is that ... I miss her. "
" Missing? The war? The love so much to miss them? "
Feliciano answered him in one way.
"Yes . But it's not that I'm missing the war. "
and then disappear. Material remains there, but his eyes went out, slowly, as the flame of a candle without wax to be consumed.
He spent his days sitting on the veranda, a prisoner of last summer languor, which they exchanged for lighter vapor clouds, the distant light of a full day and the sunset that slowly slips along the walls and compact, like maple syrup.
In that strange air, suffocating and cloying, Feliciano seemed increasingly like a bug is fixed in a drop of amber. Hoodwinked by his own honey bee. When the evening
dissolve the spell and refreshes the mind, making the resumption time to rush, the young Italian was gone in a dusty ravine any of the big house and decorated with cracks and drafts.
But he could not understand.
is not the war I'm missing.
could not understand. *
In the afternoon, his figure appeared out of nowhere when it was surrounded by the quiet villa.
dark brown hair just touched by the rays of the setting sun. The sad eyes, underneath a bit '- so - angry.
"You know when you leave a person, although you want to stay close? When you are forced to separate because, although it is your whole world, you know you're doing something wrong and can not or will not give you listening? "
Alfred said the boy - like a strange vision, the dream fading a late afternoon, his voice seemed to vibrate for the first time - and nodded.
"Yes, I have this."
Now he understood. Now beginning to understand .
"These endless battles have brought death and despair in many countries, yet kept us close. So, yes, sometimes I even miss the war, the constant threat of terror at the front of the ... the knowledge that they could die at every step. "
And there she saw. From that something different that had seen its angry eyes, the same and yet different from the empty ones she saw every day looking out to the veranda.
"Lovin ...?" stammered, feeling foolish for not having noticed before. "You too, then ...?"
"No, you misunderstood." I interrupted. "My brother, he is that she's ... love. I that does not fail - you will understand, I've never agreed with the alliance. But I see him like this ... and I feel nostalgia for that period, when Feliciano was still himself and damned-eating potatoes had the power to make him smile. As it stands now ... It is as if he were dead. "
Their little world of amber and honey bitter silent, and the wind decided to run away from the leaves of orange trees in the garden.
Alfred expectations; Romano sat down, tired and angry, on the steps of the veranda.
"Do you think angry with me?"
"Why are you that you have them separated? No, I do not think. "He narrowed his eyes, stretching his legs on the steps. "Happiness is not in a position to blame anyone. And he knows, who was in the wrong. "
He took off his glasses, resting his elbows on his knees.
"You say it's just sad, then?" He tried, in spite of everything, did not like being the cause of the sorrow of others.
"Of course it is. Me too. "Lovin cleared his throat, putting his shoulder to one of the pillars of wood. "I would have him."
A slight sigh burst from her lips.
"How do you identify with so much in him?" He asked.
The back of the dark young man stiffened, the U.S. realized that he had touched a sore point, as far as I would have done without.
If nothing else, they said, was a kind of key still hurt him as well.
"Everyone can happen to miss something important." Lovino finally answered.
"Or someone," Alfred would suggest.
The other gave no sign of having heard. He was rather astonished at the contemplation of the last glow bright green foliage in the garden.
forking of new glasses and just sigh, the young man stood up, determined to finish the bag to return home as soon as possible - but his plans had to wait.
"And you? You really are not superficial than it seems? "
Alfred closed his eyes, mind, a green much like the one from which Roman seemed to be so attracted.
"Really . Yes, really ... less than it seems. "
Verde. Something gl'insinuò doubt that he, maybe ...
"Lovin? For if you know someone with green eyes? "
" Eh? "
And the guilty and amazed expression on his face said it all.
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