Luciano twirls his pen between his fingers. He glares at the table in front him. He is having one of those days, he just knows, that he will do nothing productive at this meeting. Most days he can do it. He can sit and pay attention and pretend he doesn't want to cut the throat of whoever is speaking. Today is not most days. He shifts his glare to the other Germany, Ludwig. He's trying to get the meeting started. It's not working. Luciano sneers. He hates these meetings the most, the ones where both worlds countries come together to discuss issues breaching both worlds.

They begun having these meetings after the worlds were breached by a fault by the other England, the angry one. These conferences happen three times a year. It's five days of meetings that make Luciano want to tear his hair out. His usual band of nations are already wild and annoying, but these peppy others make it so much worse. He watches as the other Denmark harasses the other Norway. He watches as his England nearly trips over himself trying to talk to the other England. He all but groans aloud as the other Prussia talks, and talks, and doesn't stop talking.

In frustration Luciano bangs his head on his desk. He hears the people around him gasp at the movement. When the first of the meetings came around, all the others thought him weak and shy. When that touchy France tried to grope him, he lost a few fingers and got a concussion. None of them really talked to Luciano after that, and it's the way he prefers.

He had a headache coming on since he first entered the building. A cheap run down building in his opinion. But alas, America is one of the biggest countries and crazy enough to host all of the nations. Not to mention, enough conspiracies to hold open a gate long enough for the nations to pass through. Cheap lazy America, Luciano thinks. The table he's at has a crack in it. He can see both Americas, the boy scout and the bad boy annoying both Japans, the quiet and the crazed. With Luciano's bark at the nations to 'shut the hell up', Ludwig is able to get the meeting rolling, slowly, but going. Luciano still can't bring himself to care.

He hears his other self trying to talk, distracting Ludwig. Luciano shuts his eyes tight. His other self, Feliciano, annoys him the most. He hates the way he talks so happy and cheerful. He hates that he always finds the best in everything. He hates the way he's so weak and can't defend himself. And he hates the fact that whenever someone hits or makes fun of Feliciano, he feels the unmistakable urge to protect his weak other self.

But most of all, he hates it when people blame him for Feliciano being hurt. He could never hurt his other self. Mainly because after an unfortunate incident involving the Belarus', if one country hurts their other self, they inflict pain on themselves as well. But also because Luciano would never forgive himself for hurting Feliciano. He's too nice and happy and bubbly. He hates that too. He hates that he knows the guilt would drive him mad if he hurt his other self.

He hates it when people blame him for Feliciano's own injuries. The bitch with the frying pan is the worst. Luciano bangs his head on the desk again as the memory comes back to him. The other Hungary always blamed him for Feliciano's small cuts and scrapes and bruises. You think if she helped raise the kid, she'd know that Feliciano is just clutzy. Feliciano wouldn't get close enough for Luciano to hurt him anyway. That didn't stop her from wondering what had happened to 'poor little Feliciano' then sending a painfully obvious glare his way. He just rolls his eyes at her.

But the day Feliciano came to a meeting with a wound on his palm and she asked him what happened and he replied 'it's just a little knife wound', that other Hungary got all fussed up. He heard her yell out and looked up just as she brought her pan down. Luciano blocked it with his arm and moved to grab her wrist. He had her arm locked behind her and pinned up against the desk in a matter of seconds. His own knife pressed against her throat. The room went completely silent at that. She struggled in his hold, however, she couldn't move much because of his knife digging into her neck.

"Do not try to attack me again." He said calmly, his voice dripping with venom. How dare she think she could do that to him. How dare she think he would do that to Feliciano. He had let her go in a huff and stalked out of the room. He didn't return to the meeting that day.

Luciano takes a deep breath. He needs something to do before he takes his anger out on someone. That never ends well. Luciano slowly opens his eyes. He glares at the chip in the table. The pale tan scuff surrounded by the rest of the dark redwood of the table. It bugs him. Cheap, lazy America.

Luciano takes out his knife and widdles away at the scuff. He carves more patterns into the table. A few swirls and a few leaves and a few sparks. It's a good enough distraction from the overly loud obnoxious voice of the boy scout version of America. Luciano widdles at the table all throughout the meeting, his carvings expanding all around him. When Ludwig calls the meeting over, Luciano jumps from his seat immediately. He rushes outside to breathe. He stands outside looking at the trees rustle in the wind while digging his knife into the wall behind him.

After his anger subsides, mostly, he makes his way back inside. In his effort to get outside, he left his paperwork. This is a usual occurrence for him. He runs a hand through his hair. As he turns to step into the meeting room he pauses at the doorway. The other axis, Ludwig, Kiku, and Feliciano are all standing around his desk. Luciano grimaces, he doesn't want to-

"It's so pretty though!" Feliciano's cheerful voice is loud. He's running his fingers over Luciano's desk.

"Alfred isn't going to be happy about his table being ruined," Ludwig is shaking his head. Luciano's grimace grows deeper. He doesn't really care about what that America thinks.

"But it's so amazing!" Feliciano is pouting up at Ludwig. His attention quickly returns back to Luciano's desk.

"Alfred-san will most likely just remove it, or put it in a museum if he likes it enough. I do not think worry is necessary." Kiku tells them, closing his eyes in thought. Ludwig sighs and looks up, finally noticing Luciano in the doorway. His posture goes rigid as if he's ready to pounce at any moment. Luciano rolls his eyes and makes his way forward to get his briefcase.

Kiku notices Ludwig go stiff and turns to face Luciano. He takes a few steps back, out of politeness or fear, Luciano isn't sure. They are both watching him as he stands next to the table. Poor little Feliciano doesn't notice him until he is. He jumps and hides behind Ludwig when Luciano's presence is made known to him.

"Buon- buongiorno Luciano," Feliciano stammers out, trying to sound happy. Luciano doesn't mind the fake tone. Feliciano's always been scared of him. Luciano grabs his briefcase and turns to leave, casting one last glance at his markings on the table.

"Wait Luciano, did you come to look at the art too?" He pauses. Luciano moves to look at his other self, who came out of hiding behind the Germanic country. His hands are clasped in front of his chest and his face looks hopeful.

"Art?" Luciano asks cautiously. He glares at his work on the table. He wouldn't go as far to call what he did art. Maybe something like doodling but not art.

"I wouldn't go as far as to call that art." He tells Feliciano pointing lazily to his desk.

"Wah Luciano that's so mean, I think it's beautiful! It's practically flawless~" Feliciano claps his hands a few times as if to applaud the woodworking. Luciano ignores the flutter in his chest at Feliciano's compliments. He is sure that if Feliciano knew he did it, the compliments would sound forced.

Luciano lets out a huff, putting his briefcase on the table behind him and stepping closer, glaring at the wood in front of him.

"This part here is the beginning, could have fixed it to make it blend in more. The transitions between patterns here is quick, making it look scrappy," Luciano points to the pieces of carving as he talks and critiques his own work. The more wrong he points out, the more he finds, until he stands scowling down at the carving. Hating it. He thought it might have been decent before, but now it's just one huge mistake.

"Oh that's not true," Feliciano says gently, taking a step closer to Luciano. He stares wide eyed at his other self. Feliciano took a willing step towards him and Luciano doesn't know how to handle it. Feliciano had always been running away from him that the closeness between them now is probably the closest they've ever been to each other willingly.

"Look here," Feliciano points to parts of the carving explaining why those parts are good. Luciano has to consciously pry his eyes away from Feliciano as he talks about his work. He does his best to ignore the small bubble of happiness in his chest. Feliciano continues to compliment the carving and by the time he finishes, Luciano almost believes him that this small wood worked doodle could be art.

"I guess, but I still think it's still too much to call it art." Luciano whips around and takes his briefcase again in his hand.

"Aw Luciano don't be mean, what would the artist think if they heard you say that?" Luciano glances over his shoulder at his pouting other self. His golden eyes look at him with sadness.

"I don't think they'd mind too much. Criticism is a compliment. Sometimes."

"But don't you think the artist did good?"

"No." Luciano faces his other self. He judges Feliciano, getting all huffy at Luciano being negative about this piece of scrap work.

"Now how would the artist feel if they heard that?" Feliciano steps closer to him, looking at Luciano with curiosity. Luciano raises an eyebrow at Feliciano's persistent care for others.

"I know who did it, and, like I said, I don't think they'd care too much." Luciano marches towards the doorway, the conversation begun to hurt his head, with his other self's high pitched voice.

"Wait! You know who did it? Who? Who? Luciano please tell me who!" He pauses in the doorway. Feliciano sounds really close. He faces the voice and finds Feliciano standing less than a foot from him. Luciano tenses. He isn't used to having people this close to him, especially his other self that runs from him every other chance he gets. Luciano scrunches up his face in confusion. Does Feliciano really not know?

"That's my desk." Luciano points to the table, covered in wood markings. "I did it." With that he steps out of the room and walks quickly out of the building and out the door.

AN: Wah my first real fic X3 Based off a few head canons I've seen floating around the interwebs. I hope you enjoy :D This involves a lot of 'not so angry and violent' Luciano

Disclaimer: Hetalia aint no belong to me