Quando Conta DispiaceAt the end of every great empire, tears are shed. Shed because of fonder times being missed, words of affection never being exchanged, of from the realization a mentor, a protector, and a teacher are now gone.Quando Conta Dispiace by ~denmarks-heart
The youngest of the Italian duo weeps next to his tall German friend. The Aryan himself is at a lost for ideas of how to comfort the Italian. Placing a stiff hand of the Italian's shaking shoulder, trying to comfort him in the best way possible, Ludwig searches for words.
"I miss nonno." Veniciano cries, holding his hands over his tear stained face.
Thankfully, Ludwig was holding the umbrella to protect them from the characteristic funeral rain.
"We all miss him, bastardo." Lovino growls from next to his twin.
Veniciano flinches at his fratello's harsher than normal words. Ever since the fall of Rome, Lovino's words held an even bitter and acidic tone than they usually did. Veniciano looks at the coffin in the ground six feet below his two feet and waiting grimly for the dirt to