Sinful Nostalgia | Hetalia

9 || Unstoppable Guilt

"Sis look! I'm totally hot!" Julchen shouts, rushing out of her room in a deep red dress. I raise my eyebrow quizzically, wondering why she was trying to be so fancy. All I was doing was going back to work. It wasn't really a joint where you had to be fancy. Julchen skips around in circles happily, then trips and falls on the floor, right on her face.

"I do not see why you are dressing up so fancy," I state bluntly. I always hated wearing dresses like those. Showing off my legs and arms was embarrassing to me. Then again, Julchen has always been much more confident of herself. To the point, of course, where she was cocky. "I am surrounded by high maintenance people..." I mumble.

"Why not?" she questions, slinging an arm around my neck and clinging to me in such a Julchen-like fashion. "I feel so prettiful! And this way, so many guys will think I'm super pretty and buy me a drink!" I roll my eyes and dig in my purse, shoving a ten dollar bill in my shady sister's hand.

"Just... buy your own," I grumble. "Don't mooch off of people you don't know. Alright?" Julchen rolls her eyes, but takes the money anyways. She's Julchen! Is there any situation that she would refuse what is given to her?

"Hey, hey sis! You think we're gonna see Whiny Butt Curly Italian there?!" I shoot my sister a glare because of that comment, and she sticks her tongue out, holding up her hands in a peace-sign. It reminded me of Feliciano... "Kidding! But I bet you hope you will, kesesese!"

"Shut up," I grumble. "C'mon. I'm going to be late, and I need money for college still." Julchen snorts, but follows me out the door anyways.

***

Only one hour has passed, and I'm already weary of standing and serving the men who came in, ready to drink. Julchen already had more than enough, and was slumped in the corner. It was almost as if it were every other night. This was normally how things went down.

"Hello, de toute beaute~" A man slides in the chair before me, winking and blowing a kiss at me. I frown inwardly, already thinking him to be quite shady. He had long blonde hair to his shoulders, and glistening purple eyes. "Give me something strong, like your natural beauty, oui?"

I turn around, not knowing what exactly to say, and get the pervert stranger a strong alcohol drink. He winks at me and takes it, swigging it down. There was something sad in his eyes, in spite of the creepy disposition. Even so, I stayed away from him. He was beginning to really repel me with his flirtatious ways.

It was all normal for a while. So normal. So quiet. A bit too quiet for a bar. Another hour passed painfully slow. It seemed almost as if it were a decade. Another. It was now ten o'clock. The pervert visitor had fallen asleep on a table. Julchen was splayed on the ground in her red dress. Everyone seemed to be sleeping, or depressed, or just... quiet.

Then, I hear it. A crash outside of the building. That woke everybody up, and I rushed out to the door to see. All the drunkards were crying, or they didn't care. They must've been startled or something. What I saw was breathtaking.

Cars smashed up against a single Fiat. It was crushed against a lamppost. Already, a lot of police surrounded the scenes and ambulances emitted bright red and blue lights. I breathe. A Fiat is an Italian car. I first thought of Feliciano, but dismissed the thought. I have work to do...

I begin to pick up a bit around the bar, in spite of all the tired bodies slumped around. I fixed and straightened chairs. I picked up empty beer glasses on the tables. I wiped up the counter. Then, I waited. My boss came in the room, a concerned look on his face. I was a bit anxious at that sight.

"Monica, do you know a Feliciano Vargas?" He asked me with such a stern expression that I was snapped into a panicked state. Why would he know about Feliciano? Slowly, I nod my head up and down. My boss sighs quietly, almost pained, and takes a deep breath. "I am relieving you of work early tonight. The... ambulance wants you."

There it was. The words I didn't want to hear. The air felt as if it were forced out of my body. Spots clotted my vision. Outside, I knew, was a mangled Fiat. And inside, could be... an even more mangled Feliciano. All I can do is rush out the door, running as fast as I could to the ambulance. "Sis!" I hear Julchen call my name, but I do not stop. I run to the ambulance, which a female paramedic stops me.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you're a bit too close to the si-"

"Where is he?!" I shout, looking around frantically for Feliciano. He had to be here. He had to be in his car, perfectly fine, grinning from ear to ear. "Where?!"

"Ma'am, would you calm down?" The paramedic's emotionless words did nothing but fuel my anger. I could feel it surging through my veins.

"Calm. You want me to be calm, when you interrupt my work to have me see the ambulance?! You want me to be calm, when one of the only friends I have could be dead?! You want me to be calm when I'm scared out of my mind?!" I scream as loud as I can. Louder, louder, louder. But I feel as if she still could not hear me.

I want to hit something to let out all of my anger. I want the satisfaction of breaking something. I want to know he's okay... I want to look into those soulful eyes and know that he's smiling, okay, and being himself... just as he told me to do as well...

"She's with me," a rough voice says behind me. I look up to find... Lovino. Feliciano's less-nice older brother. The paramedic nods curtly and turns away. Lovino looks down at me with judging brown-green eyes. "Well?" he demands. "What are you waiting for? Get in the car."

Numb with too much emotions to make sense of, I sat in the passenger seat of Lovino's car. He revved up the engine, and began to drive quickly and with a purpose down to the hospital, so we could greet his injured younger brother. He kept his eyes straight on the road ahead. I felt tears swimming in my eyes. Feliciano...

"This is your fault," Lovino mutters. I don't even question what he's saying. I was listening, but I felt as if I didn't even have a voice. "He wanted to go see you. It was you he was out on the road for. If he didn't want to see you... if you didn't come into his life... he wouldn't be stuck in that mess." His eyes were glazed over too. I said nothing. Nothing.

"Stupido," Lovino whispers harshly. "You remind me of someone who constantly hurt my Fratello when we were little." He laughs harshly. "She made him cry almost every day. Now you see why I hate Germans. Because of that one little girl who you are just like."

I look down at my lap. Feliciano... do I really care so much as to feel as if my heart was shattered into pieces when he is hurt? He's annoying. He's obnoxious. He is happy. Oblivious. But maybe... maybe he isn't. Maybe he just chooses not to be hardened by this harsh world. Lovino clears his throat loudly, as if preventing tears. I try not to cry myself. It was hard. The lump in my throat only grew bigger.

We arrive at the large hospital, Lovino parking terribly but not particularly caring. We rush into the hospital, and I see him. Feliciano, an oxygen mask on his face, blood matting his hair, his clothes, his fair and soft skin. Lovino hollers at the nurses, "You take care of my Fratello, or you will NOT be getting any insurance payment from me. Understood?!" They all whisk away Lovino's brother. My friend.

And now... all I can do is wait.