Italy sat at his canvas, eyes screwed together tight and knuckles turning pale with the iron grip he had on his paintbrush as he tried to envision every last detail of what he wanted to paint. It was a blast from the past, the idea had come from nowhere, but it had been a good one to say the least and had tempted him to the small studio-corner of his bedroom. The memory had come from centuries ago, back when he was still just a child in Mr. Austria’s home with Hungary and Holy Roman-
His eyes snapped open wide, chestnut focused intently on white, and his hands began moving on their own. The young-looking country started with a solid background of a deep blue, focusing in on the little details afterwards. He could see it clearly now, his idea coming to light with the paintbrush and color. He worked swiftly, not letting himself rest until it was finished.
Veneziano pulled back from the painting and sighed, allowing a smile to cross his face. How he wished he could show Germany