Chapter Text
It’s around seven in the morning when Feliciano - the personification of Northern Italy - woke up. Despite many popular beliefs and his habit of taking a siesta just about everyday, the man was a morning person and had no problem waking up and taking a quick shower. However, he can’t say the same about his older brother.
“I fucking hate my life,” Lovino - the personification of Southern Italy - grunts, stumbling to the nearest seat around their island table, as he tugs on his suit tie. His clothes were a mess, just having enough effort to loosely knot his tie while not giving a damn about the rest of his wrinkled entire.
Feliciano slides a mug of coffee towards his brother. Personally, Feliciano would make his brother a shot of espresso in the morning, but earlier in the week, he was making some homemade pasta and somehow, the dough ended up in the pipes of their expensive espresso machine. Lovino is still bitter about it, but after Feliciano tearfully promised to fix the machine with his next paycheck, he continued with his life as usual. Only without that sweet liquid for the next week and a half.
“Brother, don’t be like that,” Feliciano tries to cheer his brother up. “Tomorrow is your off day, remember? We can go to church, and then we -”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lovino slips his coffee with a scowl on his lips. “I know tomorrow is Jesus Day! I just hate it when I’m stuck with paperwork and shitty politicians all day long! If you were there, then at least, the paperwork would be split between us!”
Feliciano chuckles nervously and he gently pats his brother’s back. “Romano, Romano,” he says, using his brother’s nation name. “It’s just one day out of the week. I’ll be there to help for the rest of the week, okay? Just bear with it for a while.”
Lovino downs the rest of his caffeine goodness before saying one last thing. “We need to talk about days off with our dumbass of a prime minister!”
“To be honest, we’re lucky to have two days off a week,” Feliciano stands up, grabbing his brother’s mug and putting it in the sink. “I heard most nations only have one day off, and America has none!”
“Well burger-for-brains shouldn’t elected a racist orange then!”
“Well then, bye-bye big brother!” Feliciano waves his brother off, walking in the opposite direction of his brother. “I hope your day gets better!”
Lovino grunts, still pissed about the morning, his sleepiness, and whatever minor inconveniences he can find in his general vicinity. Damn sun, he thought, the light shining in his eyes.
However, Feliciano see this grumpy behavior as normal for his brother after living with him for a hundred years or so. If his brother was genuinely happy in the morning, he would take him to the nearest doctor in a panic.
Anyways, Feliciano had a day off! No matter how old he gets, nothing beats a day where you are free from a job! In fact, he got a checklist of all of the things he wants to do.
“First, I want to get a quick breakfast,” Feliciano mutters to himself, walking towards the open market with childish vigor, as he shifts his messenger bag filled with art supplies. “Then I need to get some eggplants for the Melanzane alla Parmigiana tonight, then I want to draw in that really, really pretty park, and - Oof!”
Feliciano slams his face directly into someone’s chest. “Sorry!” he apologizes after he removes himself from the person’s chest. “I didn’t see you there! I was thinking about my day and - My goodness, you’re big as my German friend too!”
The man in front of him was, indeed, big and intimidating as Ludwig, the personification of Germany, and was holding a phone in his meaty grip. However, despite Feliciano’s friendly temperament, the stranger was uncomfortable in his presence. From wide eyes to sweaty hands, Feliciano tilts his head, confused of the man’s worry.
“Are you -”
Before he can say anything, Feliciano was shoved to the side by the man. “Get away from me,” he says, dashing off until his silhouette is nowhere to be seen. While rude, it just left Feliciano even more confused. He checks his pockets and his messenger bag, thinking that it may be new pickpocketing trick or something. It’s not out of the realm of possibility as he had witnessed many times his brother’s ability to be a skilled pickpocket.
. . . No, everything’s there. From his wallet to his sketchbook and charcoals, everything was there.
“Then why did he . . . ?” Feliciano mutters. There is no answer to that man’s attitude.
. . . Well then, Feliciano just has to continue with his life then, not knowing the truth about that man.
After getting the biggest eggplant he can find in the market, Feliciano decided to head to his favorite cafe for merenda.
“One affogato please,” he says with a smile.
“Four euros,” the employee says bluntly.
After the transition, Feliciano sits at a table near the wide windows that the cafe provided. As he indulges in his sweet drink, he observes the shop’s detailed decor. The cafe is well-known throughout the internet as having delicious Italian treats and having historical inspired designs of a Roman house. While it doesn’t have those beautiful wall paintings or a large hole in the ceiling with a tiny pool underneath, it is just detailed enough to remind Feliciano of his grandfather’s atrium .
It was a wide space where important people come to gather and talk about matters with the personification of the Roman Empire. Feliciano - as a newborn nation - was not allowed to be around these people and was forced to another room or outside until all of the guests were gone. His grandfather was strict about this rule despite spoiling his grandson with everything else. No matter, Feliciano did what he was told and come back when the coast was clear.
“It’s him!” A whisper breaks his thoughts. “It’s the guy on the news!”
“No way!” another curious voice enters. “What are odd of -”
Feliciano turns his head to the two chatty girls. And two pretty girls too. Out of habit, Feliciano smiles and waves at them as an attempt to flirt with them. Similarly to the man earlier, the girls stare back with anxiety-filled wide eyes. Their manicured hands shake before them as the Italian continues to make eye contact with a lighthearted smile, wondering if they would talk back to him. Without question, the girls get their things and walk out of the cafe, abandoning their half-eaten items for the staff to clean up.
“Ve . . .” Feliciano says to him out of habit. He is really confused now. First, the man, and now, the girls! What is going on? Does he look like a criminal to them? Feliciano think he doesn’t look like one. After all, he was just wearing a red button up with some jeans. Most people would think he looks like an artsy college student with the messenger bag.
Or maybe he's creepy for staring back at them? But he was being friendly to them! They couldn't be creep out by a friendly guy, right?
It’s just so weird. Or he's just being creepy.
Feliciano has been coming to this park since it - the Villa that was in the middle of the park - was built in the 13th century. If he remembered correctly, it was built for a pope, not that he remembers which pope built it. Back in those days, popes will come and will be gone in a quick second. So he’s sorry if he can’t remember which pope lived here before. However, this place might not belong to a pope at all and Feliciano is just remembering incorrectly.
However, it is still a beautiful scene regardless if the villa used to belong to a pope.
Feliciano sits on the nearest concrete bench and took out his sketchbook and mechanical pencil. He was lucky that it’s near the end of autumn season but not too late for all of the tourists to come and crowd the area. Sure, there’s people here and there, but it is expected for a popular tourist attraction.
As Feliciano lightly sketch the outline for his charcoal drawing, his mind wanders back to his grandpa. When the Roman Empire was well and alive, his grandfather had encouraged him in many artistic endeavors - whether it’s writing, singing, or painting - saying “When you’re artful, so are the people in you!” He didn’t know at the time, but it was true. When a nation personification does certain actions, the nation - as a whole - will mimics those actions. So when a nation attacks another nation multiple times over a short period of time (saying within three months), there will be a war between their related countries. When a country is depressed or sick, their economy will reflect that and vice versa.
So when the personification of Northern Italy is being artful, the whole side of this country is being like that too!
There are art museums popping out of the works, displaying wondrous creations. There are more young creative people with bright and hopeful eyes on the streets, trying to selling their works for cheap. There’s even going to be a popular animated movie next year from this new studio in Rome! He means "Look out, America's Disney! Here Italy comes with inspirations from Japan's animes!"
Or maybe he just win Eurovision next year? It’s a plan.
To be honest, Feliciano wants to do this more often, but all of his time has been going to his government job. He just kind of wishes it would be like the Renaissance where he had plenty of free time to do what he wants, which includes drawing and painting most of the time. But to be completely honest, Feliciano’s dedication to the arts and a lot of free time given by his bosses may be the reason why the Italian Renaissance happened.
“Oh my God!” a voice declares in English. “It’s that freak that has been trending on Twitter!”
“‘Freak’?” Feliciano turns his head towards an obese woman who’s undoubtedly one of America’s people - especially with all of that fat and terrible fashion sense. Like seriously, who unironically wears a moo-moo in this day-and-age? Anyways, she is pointing at the man accusedly with a terrified look plastered on her chubby face.
“Excuse me,” Feliciano spokes in perfect English. “But why are calling me a ‘freak’?”
“Because you are, you unholy thing!” The woman barks, spit flying to the Italian’s face. "A freak! A demon!"
“I’m sorry, but I’m catholic, ma’am!” Feliciano wipes the spit away, panicking. "But are you okay? Do you need me to call someone? I mean, you seem a little mental, but pills and healthcare can fix it -"
"It's because I know what you are!" The beastly woman declares, getting the attention of the people around them. "I know - The whole world knows that you are a monster! A hideous creature from Hell!"
Feliciano stands up as people start to gather around, grabbing his things and slowly backing away from the lady.
"I'm sorry," Feliciano repeatedly says, turning his heels to run. "I'm really sorry, but I have no clue what you are talking about!"
Before he could sprint off, Feliciano heard one last thing from the self-righteous woman's lips.
"You are that immortal that lived here for
centuries
!"