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What happens when the nations of Hetalia retire, only to give up their titles to their kids? You decide... 

Tags: Hetalia, Roleplay, Next Generation, Axis Powers Hetalia, Original Characters 

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Cresii
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PostPosted: Thu Oct 29, 2009 8:21 pm


[[Occ:: This is a private Germany/Italy roleplay for Aqua_Nova and myself, Anna Darkice.
Step one~ Plot? Si?]]


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The days were surely long. People come and go whenever they feel it, morning, noon, evening, night. But this place was like no other. The food -not the mention pasta- radiated through the air. It was the perfect place for a get together, or even a date. Several cats wondering pass, a scooter turned a corner, the rippling water, and that sweet; sweet music. The true Italian environment enriched this area, not that Feliciano hadn't noticed eariler.
It was noon now and Feliciano's feet happily danced across the pavement with that ever-so naive smile. The sun was out bright, the air was fresh, the sounds were pleasant and the direction to Germany's home was clear. The Italian hopped playfully up the first two steps and once he was close enough to the door, he checked if the door was locked.
It was.
"Germany! Germaaaaanyyy~" He called, knocking furiously on the door. It was such a beautiful day and yet he was still inside? "Pasta~ Pasta~! Quick!" He cried, still knocking at the door furiously as he did a slightly silly dance. He shifted his weight from side to side, his feet making gentle taps against the ground as he knocked Germany's national athem on the door. "Kyaaaaah! Germany~! Heeelp!"


PostPosted: Thu Oct 29, 2009 8:46 pm


Ooc| Yes, plot... we must make up a plot as we go along...! Because I've got nothing. Otl.



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It was a rather gorgeous day, the German dully noted as he flashed one glance outside before settling his blue eyes back on the text before him. He flipped a page calmly, subconsciously unfolding the dog-ear he'd tagged on the corner of the book earlier that day, to remind him where he'd last stopped in his chapter.

So why was he inside, when he could be out there, enjoying that day?
Many reasons.
He did not simply... enjoy things. He could not go out and be as carefree as others he knew. His life was a stoic one, of order and decorum. Besides- he had to finish this book.

But then, a knock. A furious one. It disrupted him quickly from his reading and he looked up to the door, waiting. If it was that important, they would surely knock again-
And sure enough-
Wait.
He knew that tune.

The silence in his house was broken as Ludwig groaned and folded a corner of the book page again. He shut the book and plainly shoved it aside, reading glasses coming off shortly after that, and he stalked his way to the front door. No. It couldn't simply be-

He opened the door and, lookie there.

"Italia!!" Ludwig screeched and he practically glared down at the lively Italian. "What now?! What is it!!" He'd had to save this bundle of energy far too many times. If it was something that had to do that trigger-happy Swiss again, he was not getting involved. Oho, not this time.




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PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 3:43 am


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He could have sworn Germany seemed quite ominious for that split second the door opened, either way, he threw himself at the German, arms tightly clasped around his large torso -though his hands couldn't quite meet ends. He wasn't thinking when he did that, nor was he thinking when he pleaded for his life whilst clinging to Ludwig.

"Th-the pasta, Tedesco!" He cried helplessly.

Germany is too busy. Should Italy have disturbed him? No! This was urgent and that heavenly scent wasn't going to wait on the young Italian!
"Germany! Germany! Do you have pasta? I forgot to bring mine, a-and I'm hungry..." His hopes were up that the German would agree to that suggestion, but then the thought occured to him. What if Germany doesn't want me around? No, it couldn't be that... right? Italy looked up at Germany, puzzled and bewildered.

Those chocolate-colored eyes gazed up at the German for quite sometime. It was though the lively energy he'd been exercising had now shaped itself into a bundle of curiousity.


PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 5:33 am


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Ludwig had only to wait half a second until the wailing Italian launched himself into his arms. This, he realized as he sputtered and stepped back, had to be some sort of record.

His face soon grew red. For weeks, months and years he'd been exposed to this kind of affection from the younger Italian brother, and still he wasn't sure he was used to the way Feliciano's gentle arms swooped around him, held him close while his face buried into his chest and that odd curl bounced along with his laughter-

Stop it, stop it!

Ostentatiously, he cleared his throat loudly as he took another step back to balance himself. "Italia..." he sighed, and he forced himself to lower his arms and lightly pat the boy on the shoulder. As he accomplished this task, however, he noticed that it hadn't been as hard as he'd expected.

"No, Italy, I don't have any pasta.." the only time I ever had any was when you lived here, Ludwig added as an afterthought, but only in his mind. He didn't have the time to waste on petty talk- or he just couldn't bring himself to be so bitter, not when this excited little blob of energy was radiating in his arms.

Another sigh escaped him. "But if you're hungry, we can..." he felt his eyebrow start to twitch. Was he really about to suggest-? "We..." oh, dear, he felt his face start to heat up again. "We can go get something for you to eat."




when i can't see your face.
please let me see your smile
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PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 6:08 am


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Shortly after he'd heard his name once more, he felt that light pat on his shoulder and then another sigh from the German. A soft whimper escaped Italy's lips as he remained clutched to Ludwig, his fingers still not touching, but his arms happy to be wrapped around their protection. Italy's protection.

"N-no pasta?" His expression was growing grim, but when all hope seemed lost, Germany suggested something. They were going out to eat? Really? Italy's sudden motivation stirred within that head of his and soon his expression was once again bright and vivid.

"Pasta~!" That was it. The most sacred of foods, something that could be eaten alone or together with that special someone. Right now all Italy wanted was that tender meal and hopefully, Germany would pay. Simply because Italy not only forgot to bring the equiptment to make pasta the German's house, but he'd also forgotten other nessessary items. Such as his wallet. "Germany. I'm broke."

He was being honest with himself. He couldn't lie to Germany. Lying was bad. Wasn't it? Italy's hold on his partner loosened and soon he was back onto his feet with that silly smile of his and those almost too carefree eyes. "Let's go Germany!" His hand taking hold on the the German's as he turned, pausing. "Wait. Where to?" He glanced back with a pondering expression.


PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 1:23 pm


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It hurt to shake his head in a negative manner, knowing that Feliciano didn't like it when they were out of pasta. He'd put on that sad face and- well, wait, why did he care? It really wasn't his fault, was it? Ludwig shouldn't feel bad, but he did, and why-?

Oh, great. Italy was broke. This could only mean one thing, and he sighed as he came to that realization.
"I'll pay," he grumbled then, and he found himself turning red as Feliciano took his hand in his and began to hold it. Hold. It.

"I don't know, Italy." Ludwig stammered and pulled his hand back, immediately feeling the loss of warmth but trying to deny it as much as he possibly could. "But let me actually go get some money first... y-you think of a place, and stay here. Don't go anywhere." he even used his affirmative tone, to let him know he was serious. Anytime the Italian ran off, something happened, and he didn't really feel like getting him out of trouble today.

With that said, he turned to go back into the house, running a hand through his slick hair as he groaned and began to search for his wallet. As he did so, he couldn't help but glance back occasionally towards the doorway. It was as if he was expecting Italy to get distracted any minute soon, and he didn't want that. As much as he loved to deny it, he hated it when Italy got in trouble. It wasn't just a hindrance- it.. truly bothered him when he got into trouble and someone was hurting him. Why, he didn't know.

Probably because Feliciano always cried, and he didn't like to see him cry.

He found himself smiling slightly as he finally found his wallet, not far from the book he'd been reading earlier. Ludwig liked his smiles. The smile of Italy was one of the brightest he'd ever seen. So if that meant that he had to pay for Feliciano's pasta, however much he may order and however much it may cost, just to see him happy, he decided he'd do it.




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when i can't see your face.
please let me see your smile
∟ud▬w¡g

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PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 2:27 pm


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Italy made a rather saddened face when Germany withdrew his hand. 'Tedesco, what's wrong?' Those were the words Italy wanted to say. His lips had even parted to ask the question, but the German had quickly silenced him with that stern voice. "Don't go anywhere." Boy, was that a hard thing to do, but Italy followed the command and kept put at the door.

Ve~ Ve~

His curl bounced alongside his smooth locks of brown hair as he looked left and right. He remembered his place. Back when scary England was against them. He still was, but Italy had already told himself he was strong enough to live in on his own. Thus he returned to his home, Venice.

But.

Nothing seemed to have changed since he left Germany's home. It still had that busy, grey aura of work and no play. Very dull, sì? It was then that the German glanced back at Feliciano, as if making sure he was still there. Italy wore a smile to reassure the other of his safety. Come to think of it. Italy had been safer and much more free than before, not like he wasn't before, but it was somewhat differe--

A butterfly.
A pretty one at that too!

Italy gawped in awe, his attention completely drawn towards this myterious creature. He reached a hand out to the leaf it had rested upon. Closer, just a bit closer and his fingers could touch those glittering orange wings.

It flittered off.

"W-wait!" He called out, chasing wildly after the little bug, though his pleads for it to stop were helpless. It was a butterfly after all, but it was so darn pretty! The Italian made a wild jump for it, only to miss and end up slipping. Then he felt his weight shifting forward as he fell flat on his face. There was a stinging sensation that also came with the fall. Italy's instincts directly told him to cry, and he was about to when he started to think about it.

Think.

Italy indeed had thought about it. He wanted to be strong because Germany always had to protect him. He was always a burden wasn't he? The Italian's eyes began to water.

It was so hard to fight tears.
He was so used to crying like this all the time, but.

He resting his hands against the ground, pushing himself up onto his knees.
Kyah!
His hands were scatched!

"Germaaaannnyyyy!"


PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 2:42 pm


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Quietly, Ludwig leafed through his wallet. Multiple bills popped up, all very good ones. Euros, oh they were wonderful things. Even he admitted, the different colors for each one made the things much easier to keep track of.

He counted a good amount of money and bid it farewell. He was sure that after their luncheon, there wouldn't be much money left, after all. So now, he tucked his wallet in his pocket and took his reading glasses, just in case, before tucking on his jacket and turning to the door.
"Alright, Italy, we'll-"

But he wasn't there.

For a split second, there was a look of panic all over the German's face. He'd told him to stay put! He'd ordered him to stay put! Why wasn't he-

And, oh no, he heard a scream. Italy's scream.

"Italia!!" instincts kicked in and he ran out the door, shutting it with a loud slam behind him, running out to the field. And he caught a glimpse of Feliciano, on his knees, still wailing his name.

"Italy! What did you do?!" Ludwig wasted no time in running over and skidding to kneel by him, examining him, putting his hand over his forehead and arms, shoulders and back, checking for wounds- gunshot wounds- what if Switzerland had shot him? It had to be the only reason he was on the ground like this! But he hadn't heard a gunshot- what if it was a silent shotgun? Did they even make those?

Then, he checked Italy's hands. Warm, small in his, and scratched.
Oh.
Oh.
He'd probably just fallen.

And now he blushed, because he'd panicked badly over such a small thing. "Ahem... w-well. Are you all right?"




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when i can't see your face.
please let me see your smile
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PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 3:35 pm


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With tears welling up in his eyes, the Italian turned to the direction in which he'd heard that familiar German voice and reached out. He held onto his companion desperately, crying over the pain. That little pain. But pain was pain and it hurt, just as much as it hurt when that thought reappeared to Italy. He struggled back his tears, but it couldn't be helped. There was just too much of an overflow. He'd fallen down and gotten hurt, not to mention mindlessly crying for Germany's help again.

'I'm a burden aren't I?'

The Italian's sobs heaved his chest, every muscle in his body shook from the fright and was weakened by his massive water loss. His hands tightly clutched the back of Germany's shirt, his face buried in the others chest. The sobs had weakly been replaced with jittery whimpers. "G-G-Germany...." He managed to stutter wiping his tears into that tough German fabric. His grip softened.

"M-m-mm hm-m..." He sounded through his anticipated vocal cords, since he couldn't tell Germany in words that he was ok. His stomach was beginning to hurt.

Cry always seemed to make Italy more hungry. The more he cried, the more his stomach growled at him. It did just that in fact. The Italian jumped in surprise at the sudden gutsy roar that recided from inside him. Food. No. Pasta. That's what it called for. Italy brought his arms from around the German to see the scatches in a more clearer view. They were tiny, so much that not a drop of blood would be able to trickle out. The thing he didn't like about it was that his palms were warm and stung with irritation. Italy sniffed back a runny nose and glanced towards Germany in front of him, hoping he would lash out at Feliciano any moment now.

He'd disobeyed an order. So... well... It was bad wasn't it?
Usually if you do something bad, you get a punishment, but like all, Italy didn't want to get hurt again.

Though.

Germany wouldn't hurt him. Germany was his friend. He even came to rescue him!

Italy backed away along the grass.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He chanted aloud, apologing repeatedly with that once again jittery voice.

He was sorry after all.

Simply for being a burden.


PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 3:50 pm


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Ludwig sighed as, yet again, the Italian clung close. Too close. He could feel tears now, the tears that Feliciano had probably held back, start to soak through his shirt. And this was some very good fabric- for him to feel that salty liquid...

Feliciano must be genuinely hurt. A small scratch, pathetic. But it genuinely hurt him, and Ludwig frowned. He didn't like it when.. when friends were hurt. -Italy was his friend after all. Right?- "It's okay, Italy, it's okay." he tried to comfort him, try to rub his back and pat it in a reassuring manner, but he was never good with those things. He'd been taught to suck it up and bear it- he taught his soldiers the same thing- he never practiced the art of comforting someone.

All too soon after that, Italy was scurrying away, and he was apologizing too fast for his own good. Way too fast.

"...Italy," he sighed and somehow, he found himself closer to him. Maybe he'd scooted over subconsciously, he didn't know- but now he was a closer distance and his arms were acting by themselves, reaching out as if they wanted to give him a hug.

But then, they recoiled and he looked away with a blush as he realized what he had almost done. Ludwig didn't hug. Harrumph.

"Look," Germany sighed a little, covering his face with one hand, hoping the blush would hide behind it. "Don't cry. Please don't cry. Let's just get up... I'll take you inside, wash your hands... then we'll go eat pasta. Okay? J-just calm down. Just calm down. Calm down." and at that point, he didn't know if he was talking to Italy or himself.

He just knew he wanted to get inside, get Italy cleaned up, and have him smile again. Tears didn't suit him too well.




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when i can't see your face.
please let me see your smile
∟ud▬w¡g

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PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 4:53 pm


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Germany was fustrated. Italy could tell by the body language, but the German's words were different. Way different. They didn't match the reddening face Germany held behind his hand. He was possibly fuming, not to mention his gesture from before. Italy wanted to cry again, but he didn't. He knew Germany would only get worse and it wouldn't help. He didn't want to be troublesome anymore, so the Italian silenced himself and rose onto both feet. Once he was steady, he patted the dirt from the knees of his brown tattered pants, simply because it stung to dust them off. Then, after checking that everything was in order, he smiled.

It was a simple smile.

Nothing more or less.

Just a smile, flat and simple.

"...Germany." His curl wasn't as light as it was before. It slouched, as if depressed. A soft breeze skipped through the grassland, making Italy's polyester shirt flicker and crack in the wind. "You said pasta, right?" He asked, his doubtful feelings from before were fading, but still left that scratch on his heart. Italy's eyes regained the slight glint in them. Not the bright and flicking one, but a more calm and gentle sparkle. He made Germany upset, so the best he could do was behave.

"Ne..."

'Am I a burden?' Once again the Italian's mouth opened to continue his sentence, but those words in his head. They didn't come out. They did't want to come out. He closed his mouth, sealing his lips before giving a shy blush.

"...Pasta."

He said, replacing those unspoken words.


PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 5:40 pm


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Ludwig's hand opened more, his fingers spreading enough to where he could peek out towards Feliciano. What he saw what exactly what he wanted but not yet enough. The Italian was smiling- ah yes, he was smiling, but it wasn't that bubbly, energetic smile that had annoyed him so long ago and yet he longed to see now.

He was quiet for a while then, watching the other, and he tried to smile. But he couldn't. He just couldn't smile. "I said pasta, y-yes." he tried not to stutter, but still the last word managed to falter and twitch, and his blush only grew. He shook his head after that, willing that red hue to go away.

"L-let's just get you inside first." Ludwig got up as well, making sure to dust himself off neatly before putting a gloved hand over Italy's shoulder. He let his hand ghost over it for a while before actually letting it settle, though. Now that he had his hand over his shoulder, he could guide him towards the house, and that's exactly what he did. With a gentle push, he began to usher the Italian towards his house.

All the while, he felt his blush grow stronger. Why, he didn't know. Maybe it was the contact- he still wasn't used to the touching, even if it was needed to lead him towards the house so they could wash his hands. He just wasn't a touchy person by nature, that's all. "You need to be more careful," Ludwig murmured, as he nudged open the door once they neared it and pushed it open, holding it there for the other nation. "Now let's go wash your hands... and- and yes, we'll go get pasta."




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when i can't see your face.
please let me see your smile
∟ud▬w¡g

Aqua Pocket
Vice Captain

Dapper Hunter


Cresii
Vice Captain

Dapper Fatcat

6,950 Points
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PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 7:41 pm


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xxxғ ᴇ ʟ ι c ι ᴀ ɴ ᴏxxxν ᴀ ʀ ɢ ᴀ s xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Italy needed to be more careful. Was he really that careless? The Italian began to do a small synopsis in his head of all the times he had been saved by Germany. They all had one thing in common. Italy's careless behaviour. Not that he was doing anything bad. It wasn't his fault that Spain kept whacking that stick at his head, but it was his fault for not being careful of his surroundings. Italy's eyes semi-closed, that familiar blunt look.

"Germany, Germany~" He chimed with a curious tone. It had dawned to him the second time the German mentioned the word "pasta". "I know where we can go to eat!" His smile returned. It radiated, almost sending a spark of excitement through the air. It was as though the pain his hands were no more, but he knew the scratches were still there and if they didn't wash his hands, he could get sick.

Sick.

An immature whimper escaped the Italian's lips as he thought about how dangerous colds are. People die from those, don't they? Italy swallowed his fear, but it didn't stop him from jittering nerviously. Germany was leading him. Right? He had nothing to fear. Nothing... heh...

He peered back to check if the German was still there, guilding him. Though it seemed silly, but he just had to make sure it was Germany. What if it were scary England? Or France? America? The Italian gulped.

Wait.

This is familiar.

Germany's house indeed hadn't changed. Italy remembered this oh-so-clearly now. He saw the door ahead and remembered the nights he spent having to search for it. Especially after eating those non-pasta dinners. His feet, almost walking on their own, rushed him from Germany's hold and towards that door.

That glorious bathroom door.

He took the knob and turned it rushfully, making a short dash for the sink and -eventually- opening the faucet. His hands were rediciously coated with that white coat of soap as he scrubbed them feriously. He didn't want to die of a cold! Kyaaaah! Come to think of it; wasn't a lack of germs life treatening?


PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 8:13 pm


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Ludwig found out that, hmm, he didn't have to lead Feliciano on for that long. Eventually, he just automatically clicked back into the habit of finding his bathroom in his home, and his hand slipped from the Italian's shoulder. He watched him disappear into the bathroom and his hand finally slumped to rest beside his thigh.

The German was silent for a while until he heard the sound of rushing water, and a small sigh of relief escaped him. At least he was following directions and washing his hands. Good. He would... to stay the least, highly dislike it if Italy's hands became infected by some odd stroke of luck -the random tricks that Fate played on the world seemed to be quite attracted to the Italian- and he was pretty sure Feliciano wouldn't like it very much either.

So he waited. He'd glance around his dull house, occasionally spotting a picture of a food item that still lounged around even after Italy's departure, and he'd smile to himself.

"Italia," he called out after a few seconds of idly staring around, "you said you knew of a place to eat?" Ludwig now began to walk over to the bathroom, pausing at the doorway and watching the energetic boy. The more he watched him, however, the more he felt his cheeks begin to heat up and he glanced away. He remembered reading something about this once... if you grew bashful around a specific someone, it usually meant something.

But he chose to think of other things. Like their date- arghrhsf, their lunch!! "Where is it?"




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when i can't see your face.
please let me see your smile
∟ud▬w¡g

Aqua Pocket
Vice Captain

Dapper Hunter


Cresii
Vice Captain

Dapper Fatcat

6,950 Points
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PostPosted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 9:01 pm


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xxxғ ᴇ ʟ ι c ι ᴀ ɴ ᴏxxxν ᴀ ʀ ɢ ᴀ s xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Italy's curl bobbled at the sound of his naming being called. He turned to the door to see Germany appear, asking about the place the Italian had suggested. He smiled. Not just any smile. The "pasta" smile. What better place was there to eat but in--

"Venice!" He chimed, finally finished with the running water and soon he closed the tap.

Italy, out of habit, flicked his hands and almost brought them to his shirt. But he paused. He couldn't do this in front of Germany, then they would have to change his attire fully. The Italian distanced his hands away from him and directed him to the closest towel rack, drying his hands there.

"Venice is beautiful isn't it? I like the pasta."

Typical. But he dared not break the news to Germany that he'd been living there for the past few months; nor about his attempts to protect himself, which failed and thus numerious calls to Japan to help him. Though, there was one thing Italy was certain of. It was that the time would come when Germany finds out that the Italian have been holding these feelings back. These precious feelings of regret.

No.

Stop!

This was no time to be sad! This was a time for pasta! For laughing and being happy with that special someone. Germany that was special someone. That friend Italy had indeed worried about, though he didn't reveal it much. Italy's hands drifted from that soft woolen towel to rest at his sides, even slipping behind him to mingle and clasp together. He tossed Germany that warm Italian smile. So warm that a hint of red touched his cheeks tenderly.

"Y'know, could I possibly drive us...maybe there?" He asked, hoping Germany had forgotten about Italy's reckless driving and most hideous accidents that occurred even whilst sitting behind the driver's wheel.


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✖ ✖ ✖ || Original Hetalia Cast

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