[drabble] "rosso di sera, bel tempo si spera"
Title: "Rosso di sera, bel tempo si spera"
Series: Hetalia
Characters/Pairings: North Italy, Holy Roman Empire
Words: 254
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for hetalia_contest's prompt, "sky."
Dawn’s rosy fingers make their way through the horizon, their hues beautiful enough to rival the flowers the boy hastily shoves to him. The very same colors blossom in their faces, and for the first time, he feels something new.
He feels that he is blessed with an eternally clear sky.
And eternally clear it is, as the boy tells him one sunny day about an idea. An empire. He sees, even as tears cloud his vision, how that piercing blue gaze softens to pain. And yet, on another clear day, clear feelings and clear hopes, he learns that soft blue is not always so bad.
But soon enough, he finds that he is forgetting.
He is forgetting the flowers, those eyes, the cloak billowing as the boy turns, for all he can see is blood. It is everywhere, it is all he can see, and he sees it dripping from the speaker’s mouth onto the ground, for words bleed stronger than wounds. In his craze, he can see the blood rise from the earth, staining the pure heavens with splashes of red. He screams and cries at this vision, at this impossibility…
For whenever he looks up, he sees no angels, only a hell.
He sits with a man on a chilly night. Even as they are losing, as their troops lessen, as they lose hope… He realizes that he has not been this happy in a very long time, and he smiles as a star shoots across the stark black sky.
author notes
☼ "Rosso di sera, bel tempo si spera" can be roughly translated to the expression, "Red sky at night, sailor's delight."
Series: Hetalia
Characters/Pairings: North Italy, Holy Roman Empire
Words: 254
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for hetalia_contest's prompt, "sky."
Dawn’s rosy fingers make their way through the horizon, their hues beautiful enough to rival the flowers the boy hastily shoves to him. The very same colors blossom in their faces, and for the first time, he feels something new.
He feels that he is blessed with an eternally clear sky.
And eternally clear it is, as the boy tells him one sunny day about an idea. An empire. He sees, even as tears cloud his vision, how that piercing blue gaze softens to pain. And yet, on another clear day, clear feelings and clear hopes, he learns that soft blue is not always so bad.
But soon enough, he finds that he is forgetting.
He is forgetting the flowers, those eyes, the cloak billowing as the boy turns, for all he can see is blood. It is everywhere, it is all he can see, and he sees it dripping from the speaker’s mouth onto the ground, for words bleed stronger than wounds. In his craze, he can see the blood rise from the earth, staining the pure heavens with splashes of red. He screams and cries at this vision, at this impossibility…
For whenever he looks up, he sees no angels, only a hell.
He sits with a man on a chilly night. Even as they are losing, as their troops lessen, as they lose hope… He realizes that he has not been this happy in a very long time, and he smiles as a star shoots across the stark black sky.
author notes
☼ "Rosso di sera, bel tempo si spera" can be roughly translated to the expression, "Red sky at night, sailor's delight."