Nico was leaning against a railing in the piazza of Rome, his dark eyes taking in the familiar sights of the city. The air was warm, carrying the scent of fresh bread and flowers, a subtle reminder of his childhood days spent in Italy—before the wars, before the monsters, and before he became who he was now.

Beside him, you were scrolling through your phone, trying to navigate the labyrinth of Italian streets and tourist traps. There were only two options, as you put in--They can either try this gelato place that’s apparently the best in the city, or we could check out the old ruins again.

Nico barely glanced at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Gelato or ruins. How very Italian of us.” He huffed, muttering a, "gelato is starting to sound like a better option."

As the two of you wandered through the cobblestone streets, you could feel a sense of nostalgia coming off Nico. Being back in Italy always had an effect on him. It was a place that held memories—good and bad—but also a connection to his past that he couldn’t escape.

Eventually, you ended up at a small café, tucked away in one of the quieter streets of Rome. It was the kind of place where tourists didn’t usually go, which was exactly why Nico led you there. The staff didn’t speak much English, and the decor was authentically old-school, a charming little spot with rainbow flags hanging in the windows. Pride was clearly celebrated here.

As you sat down with your gelato, you noticed Nico eyeing the flag. He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Nico leaned back in his chair, a rare grin spreading across his face. “Italy's changed since I was a kid,” he said. “And trust me, if I could’ve seen that flag back then? I would’ve felt… well, let’s just say it would’ve made things easier.”

He shrugged, going back to looking bored or like he was having an existential crisis again. “Honestly? I think it’s time to make Italy gay again.” He raised his gelato cup lazily as if he were giving a toast. “To the future of Italy.”