2P!Italy X Reader---I Saw Her

Translations at the bottom of this document along with extra notes if you're confused on somethings. Quick info, you and 2P!Italy are in Florence, Italy.
Also, thanks to jkls39 for doing some edits to make this smoother to read. I recommend looking at her work with both her writing, as it has far more content than I do and she is excellent at reader inserts.

Quick, small warning, it gets a bit dark, but I'm not marking it as a mature content, as it doesn't go far enough. Oh, and a few bits of language.


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    He first saw her when he was walking at night around the streets after getting fed up with his brothers.
    He’d been tossing his knife skywards as he walked in the dim, lantern lit pathways of Florence. People who passed by and weren’t drunk or had sense gave him a weary look and quickly left him, not wanting to bother a person who would play with a knife like a child and ball. His clothing really wasn’t supportive of his image, too. Black leather jacket, dark blue jeans, with his beloved hat from long ago perched on his head. His hands were covered by gloved of the same material as his jacket. His eyes, he was told by many, glinted a dangerous red at night.
    But, Luciano, or North Italy’s 2P, walked down another small pathway, with no lamps that dimmed the way. Ahead of him, he saw a young woman sit on the stones. Her knees were pulled to her chest with her head on its side, looking out to the larger streets.
    His mood, not being wonderful, snapped at the (H/C) woman.
    “Oi, ragazza! What’re you doin’?”
    The woman took a moment to process his words, slower than it should, and she turned her gaze to him. To his surprise, they weren’t wide in fear or surprised.They were low and almost tired-looking.
    Her words were slurred and didn’t speak properly, as if in a trance.
    “What?”
    He wasn’t impressed, if she was trying to act innocent.
    “You heard me, ragazza,” his knife was moving fast, irritation prominent to all.
    “Who’re you?”
    “Answer my question first!” he growled, starting to stalk closer, his knife held in his gloved hand in a threatening manner.
    She seemed to take another while before standing and looked at the walls, her eyes still half lidded, and she spoke softly, giving further to his mood.
    “I need to leave. My friend needs me at home.”
    She turned to exit, her movements almost too slow to really be normal. Then again, her reaction to him wasn’t all that average, too.
    “Hey, I asked you a question, donna! You’ll answer or I’ll-”
    Shocked, he watched her turn the corner, her footsteps on the cool stones fast in a running speed and by the time he had looked around the corner, she was too far to bother with.
    To him, at the time, he thought it to only be a joke and guessed he wouldn’t see her if she knew what was good for her.
    
    -----
    
    A week later, after that incident, in which he forgot almost completely about, he was walking around the area, walking around the large cathedral, Basilica di Santa Maria del Flore [1]. His clothing was more open, seeing as it was day and the season was becoming warmer.
    Now, it consisted of a black dress shirt with some brown dyed jeans and the same lace up boots that he wore a week ago. His hat remained, an attachment to it was strong.
    Taking a slow walk around the area while holding his knife in his pocket and looking at those who passed by, his dark magenta eyes glared at those who walked around. Hearing two women who talked with each other quietly, he listened in, making his appearance look like he was looking at the tomatoes in the stall set up next to some building by the tower.
    “Oh, (Y/N), really, you should look into it,” a woman spoke.
    “Yeah, I know. You tell me all the time, Lucy,” the other woman replied, her voice vaguely familiar.
    Holding the tomato up, he took a glance at the two women. One had bright red-brown hair with hazel eyes and the other had (H/C) hair with (E/C) eyes that seemed to be annoyed.
    “Then do it! If you need some money, then I’ll help. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself. Last week, you told me that you dreamed of a man with a knife! You told me that you have more vivid dreams when you sleepwalk and you came home with that empty look I’ve seen before. That man could’ve hurt you if you didn’t walk away!”
    “Lucy, I know. But, I’m fixing it. I just need to go to sleep earlier. I’ve had too much stress and I haven’t rested a lot this week.”
    “Well, tell me, what did he look like?”
    Luciano put the tomato back down, and picked up another. Vaguely, he thought of Romano, South Italy, and Spain’s tomatoes that they both grew and were so fond of. They were better looking than these.
    “I think he, uh, had a black jacket on ‘cause it was cold, jeans too, but I couldn’t really tell the color. He had a weird hat with a feather plume that hung from it and…” She took a moment, giving him time to hold another tomato up to the light and see her look of concentration.
    He would admit, she looked rather beautiful.
    “Right! He had really red-purple eyes! They were really striking!”
    How interesting. That was what he wore a week ago.
    “He sounds like some Mafia leader to me. From now on, keep your phone on you with your ringtone on. I’m going to look for you if you sleepwalk again.”
    “Lucy, no. I’ll be fine.”
    “He had a knife and was threatening you!”
    Maybe it was him. He did, vaguely, remember threatening some strange donna last week.
    “No, he wasn’t. I just said he had a knife.”
    “(Y/N)... really, now. I can’t really find that believable. A man at night wearing dark clothes with red eyes. That just sounds like trouble.”
    A small smirk was on his lips and he dropped the tomato, not giving a bit of remorse to the shopkeeper who gave him a glare.
    Walking over to the two women, he gave a smile, to which all woman seemed to often fall for and walked up to the two.
    “Hello, bella donne!” he strolled to them, “What are you doing on this lovely day alone?”
    The woman who was named Lucy looked at him wearily and gave a small nod and gave a slow reply, “Buon pomeriggio, signore,” she replied in perfect Italian, “We were just hanging around here.”
    “Well, are you touring here, donne?”
    “No. We moved here a month ago.”
    “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you bella donne before! Perhaps I can show you around? Firenze is full of history!”
    “Mi dispiace, sir. But, my friend and I should really go.”
    “Perhaps we could meet again some other time? I know of a nice coffee shop that would be nice!”
    “If we meet again, maybe. Come on, (Y/N),” tugging the other woman’s hand, she pulled the other bella away.
    “Well, give me a name so I don’t forget you two bella donne!”
    “I’m Lucy, she’s (Y/N). Bye.”
    “Ciao! I’m Luciano Vargas!”
    The (H/C) haired bella gave a shy wave and smiled.
    “Ciao, Luciano!” she replied.
    Disappearing from view, his smile became annoyed and, leaning against the old building, he started to fiddle with the knife, tossing it, balancing it, and doing tricks with it.
    That woman, (Y/N), must’ve been the one he saw a week ago. If he got anything from that conversation, it would be that she sleepwalks and she was probably the one who he met a week back. It would, though, explain why she seemed a bit slow to react.
    He wasn’t a stranger to sleepwalking, seeing as it happened a few times in his family and even himself once or twice. He did remember that the others were rather scared and worried about what he was doing. Feliciano and Lovino were blubbering on and on about knife throwing and targets. It didn’t take him long to figure out what he’d done.
    He couldn’t tell if she recognized him. She couldn’t make out anything in specific except for the general shape.
    But, she was a pretty donna. Her full, thick (H/C) hair, healthy (S/C) skin, and bright (E/C) eyes. He’d seen plenty of women, but she was unique, and he wanted her. To see if he could break her, or ravish her, or even both.
    It’d be easy enough to look for her. Firenze wasn’t the largest city and he could find her. Besides, he could tell by her figure that she liked walks. He’d be bound to meet her.
    
    -----
    
    Two days later, walking around with Flavio, South Italy’s 2P, he spotted her again.
    (Y/N) was reading a book, her (E/C) glowing with curiosity as her eyes shifted back and forth to the words. Looking at the text, he recognized it as English and chuckled, receiving a look from his brother.
    “What is so funny, bastardo?”
    “Nothing, Flavio. Why don't you go back to looking for that Model Diet of yours.”
    “Zitto, bastardo!” the other yelled, grasping the jar of Nutella tight as if to stop himself from throwing the item.
    “Right back at you, fratello,” he smirked, seeing his brother riled up and ready to strike him was enjoyable.
    “Bastardo! Torna a trattare farmaci! [2]”
     He wasn't shouting, but just speaking a little louder than a whisper, making it all the more amusing.
     “Same to you.”
     The other grunted and didn't reply, making the banter his victory.
     With a smirk, he walked off, towards the (H/C) haired woman.
     Walking behind her, he looked at the contents and gave a small smirk at the book. It was just talking about the life of an artist, Leonardo da Vinci.
    Upturning his lips, he began his act, “Ah, bella! You're reading about Leonardo?”
     Jumping, her large (E/C) orbs gave him a startled look and she gave a rough sigh before smiling a bit.
     “Oh, it's you! Er, Luci or something, right?”
     While he was more often offended by the name, he didn't feel disturbed by her saying it. Yet, the instinct to correct was stronger.
    “It's Luciano Vargas, bella! But, how nice to see you again!”
     “Yes! Oh, I'd like to introduce myself. Properly.”
     With a smile that made him want her more, she closed the book, tucking it into her bag, and with a kind smile, she held her hand out and spoke softly, “My name is (F/N) (L/N). I'm glad to meet you, Luciano Vargas!”
     With a smile, he took the hand and rather than greeting her with a customary handshake, he pulled it to his lips and kissed it tenderly, relishing the soft skin of her hand.
    “The pleasure is all mine, bella!”
     A faint blush was visible and she took her hand back when his grasp slackened, “Uh, sorry about Lucy, my friend. She had a bad first week in Italy with a few men. She came here a week before I did and she said that there were some guys who were too touchy. I guess she thought you were one, too.”
     “It's fine, bella! Nessun problema!”
     Really, this would make him sick, playing as a happy-go-lucky person. It was worse that he felt too similar to his other persona. The damn bastardo, always being so happy. It ruined some fun in things.
     “Ha. So, what are you doing here?”
     “I was just getting a few things from the market. Fruit like tomatoes, potatoes, and oranges. What about you, bella? You're here at a grocery store, reading instead of shopping.”
     Another blush appeared on her (S/C) cheeks and she gave a small smile, “Well, I was actually waiting for my friend. He's gone off to get something. I guess he's got a plan for tonight.”
     Internally, he frowned. To him, it sounded like she had a boyfriend. That wouldn't do. If he was going to take her for his use, than he would have to, well, take care of it. He already had his weapon of choice in his pocket.
     “Oh? Who is this lucky man?”
     “Ah, well, he's an old friend from America. His name is Alfred. Pretty weird guy, but I like him a lot!”
     Alfred? From America? There was a strong chance that his buddy in the North Americas had something he wanted. But, he could probably find the American easily. The was the off chance it was another, random, Alfred from the Americas. The name was popular to those people.
     “What does he look like?”
     With a smile, (Y/N) replied, “He's coming here right now. Alfred! Over here, hero!”
     Not holding the young woman's gaze, he darted his red glinting eyes to the person to see just the man he was expecting.
     Running up, completely oblivious like many other times, the blond-haired American held a burger and potatoes. How he got the burger was beyond him. The younger nation seemed to always have a way to get a burger. Even if if wasn't from his dear fatty McDonald's.
     “Yo, (Y/N)! I cooked you a burger and we can make some fries at the house! Then we can watch some scary movies I brought from home-”
     In an instant, the American took a pause and stared at Luciano with wide eyes, with his framed eyes bouncing to and from his girlfriend, loathe as he was to admit it.
     “L-L-Luciano! What are you doing here?” 
      The Italian couldn't tell if this dumber-than-a-deer American was accusing him or if he was greeting him as an old friend. Americans always seemed to be overly happy people and he couldn't tell if this man was being so to him.
     “Alfred, I live here, you know,” he replied, his voice stained to be friendly with the man who he didn't exactly favor (Although, he didn't favor anyone to begin with).
     “I thought you lived in a more open area!”
     “I did, last time during the conference. But, now, I live here.”
     “Well,” he gave a weak chuckle, “That sounds great! I hope you're enjoying it! Hey, (Y/N), could you pay for the stuff? I want to catch up with Luciano really quickly. I'll be done and get you before you can say 'Alfred F. Jones is my hero!”
     With a nod, though hesitant and a bit suspicious, she took the given items and walked to line.
     Once she was out of earshot and sight, the two gave a harsh glare.
     “Hey, Luciano, what are you doing with my (Y/N)? I won't let you play with her feelings, if that's what you're planning to do!”
     “You're hardly in a position to argue. I may not be as renowned as my happier half, but I have just as much influence on North Italy as Veneziano. If you hurt me, then you know what will happen, won't you?”
     Alfred gave a grim look and looked at the other Italiano closely, seeming to judge him carefully, before replying with his more serious tone that was heard very few times. With those being with England, or UK as he was to be called now, and the Cold War.
     “If you're after (Y/N), then you better know this. She's a sister to me. I found her, a new small island, but she isn't aware of that. Keep the subject out of everything. Keep your knife away from her, too. I won't allow her to be hurt. She's a very young country and a delicate one. We haven't even announced it yet.”
     “Oh? America is keeping quiet on this? Well, fine. I'll try to agree to that. Just know, you fed her to the wolves, and I promise you, she won't want to go back to America ever again, Americana!”
     “Ah, you damn Italian! I'll keep (Y/N) away from you- Gah, you bastard!”
     Dragging the man away from the front and to the back into the open courtyard, Luciano held the other nation against the stone with his knife held no more than a centimeter away from his eyes.
     “Get off me, you Mafia freak!”
     Leaning in low, North Italy's second personification leaned in close, a smirk on his lips as he let the knife slide down behind his ear as he spoke lowly.
     “Listen here, America. This girl, (Y/N), is someone I've set my eyes on. I won't stop until I worm my way into her heart. Deep and low and then I'll break her. I'll use this knife and let it slice into her soft skin. Mar her with that sticky red blood that we seem to always loose. Then, I'll do things that you can only image. Have her scream my name with satisfaction and with pain.
     “Then, I'll break her mind. Shatter her into a million pieces and irreversible even for the best psychologist in all these countries. I'll keep away from you, and when you begin to give up, I'll surprise you again. Lay here out for everyone in the World Conference to see. Then, I'll leave you to explain who she is. Perhaps, I'll even make her scared of you, too. How will that feel, Alfred?”
     The man beneath him struggled, yet his strength didn't permit him to lift off the Italian.
     “Gr, you son of a bitch! Get off me and we'll fight. Fair and I swear to it, I'll win! I won't let you hurt her! She's too young to experience that!”
     A new light glowed in the magenta eyes.
     “Oh? Why don't you tell that to the children that suffer that. As a country, no matter how small, we're invincible and it passes, even if it takes a thousand years. But, humans are so delicate. Tell those who suffer worse that no one should experience that. You may think yourself a hero, but, your country is still in disarray.”
     “Got to hell, you fucking second rate Italian country!”
     “Oh, I believe I've already been there, that was where I came from. How about you go there, too? See what comes out with you."
     
     ----- End





 Translation Notes (To English):

     Ragazza – Girl

     Donna/Donne – Woman/Women

     Bella – Beautiful

     Buon Pomeriggio – Good Afternoon (I think)

     Mi Dispiace – I'm sorry

     Ciao – Hello/Bye

     Firenze – Florence

     Bastardo – Bastard

     Zitto – Shut Up

     Fratello – Brother

     Nessun Problema – No Problem

     Americana - American

     Notes:

     Basilica di Santa Maria del Flore – The Basilica of Saint Mary of the Flower is the translation, or so Wikipedia says. This is a large chapel that was origianlly just a smaller building for mass. Before the Rennisance (When Italy had a wonderful period for architecture and art, with the famous Leonardo living in that time) the building began to be reconstructed so it could hold more people because of the growing population.

     This is also a very popular structor during that time. It should be the largest building in Florence, Italy, and it also has a tall tower called the Giotto's Campanile.