The wall of eight centimeters.

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Days definitely couldn’t be boring with that one certain Italian around. He always had something to do, something stupid to do. Like randomly jumping and shouting: “PASTA!”, and that was happening very often. Was he actually writing down what to do on a certain day, or was he spontaneous? He always had so many ideas how to make an idiot out of himself. Or maybe he was really just stupid. That’d explain everything. And this day was nothing new if it goes for Feliciano’s weird behavior.

Ludwig was standing in the field, with his arms crossed. He waited for his two allies to come. Well, actually, he waited only for one of them, because he told Kiku to arrive later. Feliciano would always only cause troubles and they would have no training in next two hours, so there was no need to bother the Japanese man.

Right when the thought of his allies crossed German’s mind, he heard fast and loud steps on the grass behind him. It could be none else but Feliciano. He turned around and faced him before the other man could bump into him. The failed surprise attack made the Italian a little sad. But it didn’t last long, though. In a few seconds, Feliciano was bouncing on his feet with a wide smile painted on his face. Ludwig only sighed.

“Are you ready for the training?”

“Wait, wait!”, uh-oh, here we go.

The blonde sighed heavily; he knew Feliciano would do something stupid in a moment. If he didn’t, he would perhaps die.

So he only looked at his ally, waiting for what was going to happen. Feliciano reached both his arms out at the height of his chest; his palms were clammed together as if he was trying to hide something in this very little space between them.

“Does Ludwig want to see something?”

“What is it?”

“I can’t tell - it’s a surprise!”

So the German waited. The shorter man only tilted his head right and left.

“Oh, but you have to bow a little”, he said.

“What?”

“Only a little…! It won’t work out if you don’t lean over!!”

Another heavy sigh Ludwig made. What was that idiot going to show? Ah, who would ever know that? If there was anyone who could understand that man, it was perhaps another Italian.

The German lowered his head just as Feliciano told him to. And waited.

How long did it last? Maybe not even ten seconds, actually. But the time really did pass so damn quickly when Feliciano put both his hands on Ludwig’s cheeks and pressed his lips to his.

“W-what are you doing?!”, the blonde pushed his away, his face was all red. Was it from anger or was it a blush – who knows.

But the Italian was still smiling. “Well, it’s not my fault you’re so tall”, he finally answered.

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