A Love Forgotten

Disclaimer: The AWESOME Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz! Oh, and Youtube belongs to whoever owns it.


"Oi, West! Are you ready?"

The boisterous voice of his elder brother rang clearly in the usually tranquil house. Germany nodded, himself being one of the few who could take Prussia seriously. It was a while since they've had to do a bit of spring cleaning, and with Veneciano going about his own duties today, there would be no disturbance!

Nodding in silent approval of today's fortune, Germany headed off to meet his brother. Prussia wore a wild grin, happy to be doing something with his brother.

Cleaning had been an uneventful event, that was, until Germany found something of peculiarity in the boxes that held his old belongings. It was a very small pair of drawers, prompting surprise from the stoic country. He certainly would never own this feminine piece of garment, but what would it be doing amongst his old things? It led to a question.

"Bruder...Did you steal Hungary's undergarment?"

At the unexpected question, his brother became so red Germany almost thought he transformed into a giant tomato. Then Prussia snapped very hastily unlike himself, retorting, "No, why would I even want to do that?!" And the rest of his outburst dissolved into terrified mutterings which Germany could catch some phrases of 'Hungary' and 'torture'. "Then would you by any chance know who did this belong to?" Saying so, he held up the item he found. Prussia stared at it with quiet contemplation.

To be honest, Prussia knew. The day he found his little brother, he knew. When Holy Roman Empire dissolved, Prussia had found a child, left for dead on a battlefield. He knew then, it must be fate. This child he found was to be Germany. When he treated his wounds, he found the drawers upon his body. Prussia briefly wondered why would a boy be carrying a GIRL's underwear, but decided to push the question aside and kept it away.

When the boy woke up, he had no recollection of himself.

He had asked, "...Who are you? Who am I?"

Prussia, always the abandoned, had a drastic urge to forge this child's future with his own hands, and he did. "I'm Prussia, your brother, you silly dolt. Who told you to go fight without thinking? Now you've got some sense knocked out of you, Germany. Next time, be more careful." The newly christened Germany was a bit confused; he could not recall anything at all, but if this Prussia said he was his brother, then he must be.

The small blonde child nodded, showing that he accepted Prussia's words. He mentioned nothing of the drawers that was absent from his possession, and Prussia mentioned it not. He had a brother now.

"I don't know. Heh, maybe it's that stingy aristobrat hiding some of the things he stole from Hungary instead," Prussia suggested with a disdainful smirk. Germany raised an eyebrow at his brother's suggestion. Austria seemed to be the least likely person to do something as tasteless as stealing a woman's underwear...But it was Hungary they were talking about, and these two are closer than most. It was worth asking.

"Then I'm going to pay him a visit...Do you want to come along?"

"Me, to his place? HAH! Forget it," Prussia sneered. His dislike of Austria was still strong. Germany left for Austria's home after cleaning was finished, the item in question carried in a paper bag tucked under his arm.

He went to drive to the home of Austria. Hopefully, Hungary would be there too on one of her usual visits to the aristocrat. The drive had been short, but it felt like a long time, as Germany was hounded with the strangest sense of nostalgia and sorrow. There was something he was forgetting, of that he was quite sure. But he could not for the life of him remember what it was that he failed to recall. All these feelings came from looking at those drawers.

No, he was not in any way a pedophile!

Only...Looking at it aroused a thirst in him so great, yet he knew not what that thirst was. It made him feel a deep longing, but he was lost as to what he was longing for. Getting off the car, he tried not to let the slowly widening gap of his soul bother him and rang the doorbell. As expected, a beautiful brunette lady greeted the door. Hungary was surprised at the presence of the man, but warmly welcomed Germany in.

"It's good to see you, Germany. Have you come to visit Austria?"

"Yes. I was cleaning my house and I wondered if some of the possessions I have belonged to him before," he answered just as politely. Hungary let out a silvery laughter. "Sometimes he does complain of not being able to find some piano notes." Germany had been tempted to ask if Austria ever asked around for some lost underwear, but his sensible mind told him not to. One never knows when Hungary could pull out her frying pan.

"Germany, what brings you to my abode?" Austria questioned coolly as he served coffee to his friend. After all, it was a curious sight to see Germany visiting. The German hardly seemed to be the type to make social calls. Germany handed the paper bag to Austria, looking sheepish. "I found this while cleaning, and my brother...suggested that it might have belonged to someone you knew."

Austria rifled through the contents, and as expected, the aristocrat blushed and frowned at Germany. "You tasteless fool! Did you think I'd own something as, as shameless as this?!"

"No, not at all. I just wondered if...it belonged to Hungary. But I felt that my life was in imminent danger if I asked her directly," Germany answered. If there was someone Hungary would not assault with her frying pan, it was Austria. Others were at a risk of varying degrees; someone like his brother was at the high risk of assault.

Austria shook his head. "Hopeless...Hungary, Germany asks if this...garment belongs to you," Austria called out.

Hungary entered the living room with a serene smile, wondering what it could be. She hoped it was one of her dresses that she forgot where she had placed it. Germany's body tingled with wariness, ready to dodge if Hungary whipped out her lethal weapon. She stared at the small underwear within the paper bag. Instead of getting angry as the German expected, a look of unparalleled shock filled out her expression.

"Where did you get this?!"

The lady was staring down at Germany with a sort of madness in her eyes. Germany now understood a bit of Prussia's fear of Hungary. "In my house...When I was cleaning."

"Is Prussia at home now?" Hungary questioned further, the light in her eyes bright and intimidating. Germany nodded in answer, his voice stuck in his throat. This was a moment when Hungary was truly furious, and there was no telling what she would when she was this mad.

"Austria, will you please accompany me? Germany, we are going to head to your home. Prussia has a LOT to explain to all of us."


"Who says you can just walk into my house?!"

Romano let his cold tea green eyes wander around the German's house, ignoring Prussia. He thought Veneciano had come over to visit the potato bastard, but his bubbly fratello was nowhere to be seen at the German's home. Prussia was kicking up a fuss about Romano simply entering their house but Romano could care less.

His brother already barged in without any warning on an almost daily basis, so what difference did it make if it was the other Italian to barge in?

"Are you looking for something?" Prussia's voice was annoying to Romano's ears. "It's not here, so I'm getting the hell out before I catch any German-freak virus."

"Why do you hate us so much?" The albino demanded. It was a mystery that Veneciano enjoyed the company of the brothers while Romano absolutely loathed it. Romano smirked coolly. He was wondering when that question would arise. "It's nothing personal, che palle. It the blood within you both. I hate Germanic bastards."

"So it's a playground grudge you carried to adulthood?" Prussia sneered in return.

"Playground grudge...? Vaffanculo! What would you understand about Italy, OUR Italy? Don't ask these fucking questions when you know how to answer most of them. Va cagare!" Romano spat curses generously, hiding no animosity.

Any further spats were stopped when the door was smashed open. Romano and Prussia both jumped at the unexpected sound. As the dust settled, there stood Hungary, her frying pan held aloft, a dark aura around her. Romano wisely scooted fifteen feet away from where she was. Prussia was frozen where he stood.

"Prussia...You better have a good reason for hiding this secret for so many centuries!" Hungary snapped, waving something that looked like a pair of child's drawers in the the corner of his eyes, Romano could see Germany and Austria, both confused at Hungary's rampage. What the hell, he might as well cast everyone into hell now.

"Yeah Wurst bastard, why don't you tell everyone why you kept the potato bastard's real identity a secret? Holy Roman Empire, alive under our noses this whole time," Romano sneered, basking in the satisfaction of seeing Prussia's face twist with shock.

"How the hell did you know that?!"

"Idiota, I'm not as blind as everyone else in this house now. I knew, Prussia, from the very first time I met the potato bastard," the Italian scoffed. "But before we continue this talk, why don't you explain yourself first? Everyone else is confused and that won't help things progress. I'll go get us some coffee, bastard." Romano made it no secret that it was his sadistic pleasure seeing Prussia faced with such a predicament, as he retreated to the kitchen to make coffee for everyone. Hopefully Hungary would throw her mug into Prussia's face after she heard Prussia's story.

Germany was numb. Holy Roman Empire? He vaguely knew the name and the history behind it, but...There was no clear recollection whatsoever. And yet, Romano claimed that he was the empire that fell to ruins many centuries ago? Austria seemed to finally realize what was going on, and settled onto the sofa.

"Prussia...I think it had been no secret to you how heartbroken Veneciano was at the loss of Holy Roman Empire. Why did you keep this a secret, you fool?" The grave tone in Austria's voice was rarely heard. It only proved how serious the conversation was.

"What was the use of telling anyone? Look at West! He doesn't even remember a thing!" Prussia shouted defensively.

"It doesn't mean you could hide it from everyone else, Prussia!" Hungary snapped, waving her frying pan threateningly. Germany stared meaningfully at his brother. "Bruder...I have the right to know. And I wish to know. Why is this such a big secret? How does it relate to Veneciano?"

"Your existence in itself brought suffering to many people, that's why," Romano muttered, setting down the tray of coffee. Austria immediately cradled a mug of the warmth, seeking comfort from the drink. "...I understand why the Wurst bastard did what he did. But it's time this matter sees the light, bastard," the Italian's eyes travelled to Prussia, settling like a cat watching its prey.

Prussia looked as if he was caught between Russia with a water pipe and Hungary with a frying pan. But finally he sighed and sat down, a sure sign that he gave in.

"...I found West when I was scouting the area, checking the burnt fields...West was unconscious, a mere child, all sorts of wounds. He was about to die. I was the one who brought him back from the brink of death. When Holy Roman Empire dissolved, there was a piece of land that was in need of a patron like us, a land which used to be under Holy Roman Empire..."

"...You made him the patron," Austria filled in, starting to understand. Prussia nodded.

"West never remembered a single thing. His new life started by knowing that he was Germany, and I Prussia was his bruder. West is my bruder, my burden and my responsibility to bear. What was there that I could tell? Should I go, 'Hey Francis you ass, look what I picked up! It's Holy Roman Empire; thought you did him in didn't ya, you bastard?' We all aren't idiots, Austria. During that unstable time, did you think I could bring up something as serious as that which could jeopardize everything?"

"Until now, West has never recalled life as Holy Roman Empire, and I never thought of bringing it up. You say Veneciano was sad, but look now! He's so happy with West! Does it matter if he knows or not?" Prussia protested.

"Do you think things truly will be resolved if they're left alone? What if this came up further in their relationship and poses a problem? It could destroy what they have together!" Hungary retorted.

Germany was tense. The more Prussia spoke, the more his head hurt. The memories that Prussia spoke of forced themselves into his mind, stretching his mental strength to the limit.

"...Romano, if you knew from the beginning, why did you never say a thing?"

"It's because I don't want you to remember, bastard. I was hoping you never remembered," Romano answered Germany's question with vindictive determination. An irrational anger roared within Germany, the faded, halting images in his mind growing stronger. He remembered many things now; that 'she' was the one who gave him the drawers. "Why, Romano?! If you told me earlier, I..."

"Would only hurt him again, Holy Roman Empire!" Romano snapped, cutting into Germany's words. Prussia had often seen an angry Romano, but never once seen such an obviously hateful Italian brother before.

"You. Made. Veneciano. Cry. You were the only bastard of Germanic blood that I thought I could trust! I have always been able to understand Veneciano's pain and share it. But that day, that moment...Veneciano's pain was for once, foreign to me. Me, his half! I didn't understand, didn't know how to heal the hurt! I was powerless...only to watch mio fratello suffer alone...I thought that if I entrusted Veneciano to you, he would always smile."

Romano was already standing up, all pretenses of ease gone. His hands were clenched; his knuckles were white. The Italian seemed almost about to tear apart from combustion, his anger blazing in its full glory.

"But it seems that Veneciano's love was not enough to fulfill your desires. You still wanted to go to war, to rob and to conquer! Did you want all that fame, power and glory that badly?! What was lacking from Veneciano's love?! How much tears did you think mio fratello shed because of you? How could you even hurt him..." Romano hissed, the intensity of his words robbing his breath.

The memories came to him, of their younger days together. Veneciano had spent his whole day in bed crying. Romano yelled, scolded, and screamed...to no avail. He tried to coax, to persuade, to cheer up his fratello. Nothing worked. He only held his own bleeding heart to himself, unable to reach out to Veneciano.

Prussia could say he did not expect Romano to turn to him. The Italian looked tired, but the fight was not gone from his eyes. "You are a brother too, Prussia. I am doing this all to protect mio fratello. Holy Roman Empire had betrayed my expectations, made Veneciano cry...It's a sin I'm not willing to forgive. And not once, but twice he made Veneciano suffer, che palle! I might not know what mio fratello wants, but I know that as a brother, I must do what I think is best for him. And the best for him is that you get the hell away from him! Don't come over to our house anymore!"

With that declaration, Romano sped off, leaving everyone speechless. The uncomfortable atmosphere lingered, heavy and depressing. Finally, Prussia gathered his courage and tentatively placed his hand on Germany's shoulder. "West, you don't have to listen to that idiot. He's just struggling with his brother complex. If you want Veneciano, just go for it!"

"...Romano is right. I've hurt Veneciano. I don't deserve him," Germany's voice sounded small and unsure, unlike his usual self. He had taken a lot of damage from Romano's words, and his realization that Romano was right. Hungary stood up in protest. "That's not right! No one decides you're unworthy except Veneciano himself!"

"Hungary is right, Germany. Romano was surely only emotionally unstable," Austria added his support.

Germany stared at the ground. "...I wish to be alone, to think things out first."


"Merde! Vaffanculo!" Romano never stopped muttering curses as he trudged all the way home, irritated and a bit depressed after releasing all the emotions he had held back for some time. Slammng the door shut, he threw himself on the couch, trying to calm down.

He knew it was wrong of him to hide the truth from his brother, but as the elder one, Romano felt responsible to protect Veneciano from in his heart, he knew Veneciano was strong enough to embrace the truth. Veneciano needed the truth, or he would never be able to move on. Romano knew; that was why Veneciano had gently rejected Germany's proposal after Germany recovered from the shock at his own embarrassing actions. Veneciano had never forgotten Holy Roman Empire. Even when Prussia, Austria and Hungary seemed to have given up on those memories and moved on, Veneciano had held on.

It was as if Veneciano believed that Holy Roman Empire was still alive, even though he had cried and became emotionally unstable when France confessed the news to them.

"Ve? Fratello?"

Romano was snapped out of his thoughts when Veneciano's voice called out. His brother was standing at the doorway, staring curiously at the seemingly worn-out Romano. The older Italian nodded to acknowledge his brother. Veneciano, gaining approval from Romano, bounded into the living room and sat beside Romano.

He sensed a burden upon Romano, and wanting to help, asked, "Is something wrong, fratello?"

"...Veneciano...I'm going to tell you something important. Stay calm and just listen, got it?" Romano couldn't do it. He loved his brother too much to keep him in the dark any longer.

"Ve...Alright, fratello!" Veneciano turned to Romano, ready to listen.

"...Holy Roman Empire is still alive. But he's not himself anymore," Romano paused, unsure of how to reveal the truth to Veneciano. What if Veneciano hated him for keeping it a secret? How would he react if he told Veneciano that the Germany that he spent so much time with was Holy Roman Empire all along?

"I know."

That simple sentence caused Romano to stagger with shock. Veneciano merely looked at his brother with a serene smile. "You know...? Wait, then during World War...!" Romano's mind was piecing together the clues at an incredibly fast rate, the realization beginning to dawn upon him the strange reasons that Veneciano, who disliked war, had willingly joined World War Two for a country he barely knew then.

Veneciano, still smiling, nodded to confirm Romano's expectations. "It was strange, during World War One when we first met. When I saw him, I was so happy. Even though he didn't recognize me, and even beat me, I was just so glad that he was alive. Those blue eyes, blonde hair...Just as I remembered, even though he had grown up. I couldn't let any chance of seeing him run."

Romano understood now, the persistence of Veneciano when it concerned Germany.

"If I stopped, even for a day...It feels like I'll lose him forever, all over again."

The southern Italy's shoulders shook, his voice cracking. "You joined World War Two, knowing what war might do to you, just for him?"

The eerily calm Veneciano linked hands with his brother, looking at him shaking. "Yes, fratello. That last time, I let him go. This time, even at the risk of my life, I will go to war by his side. For if that is what he wishes, I shall be with him all the way."

Romano's fingers tightened almost painfully. He did not look up into his brother's eyes. "...Are you angry with me for hiding it from you?" "Ve, I'm not." Veneciano answered cheerfully.

The shaking progressed into shuddering, and fat droplets fell from Romano's tea coloured eyes. His brows were creased together with frustration, lips twisted into a frown of sorrow, their linked hands held tightly as if never to let go of. Understanding his brother's grief, tears fell from Veneciano's eyes too, and he struggled to hold onto Romano, as if he would fly away.

"I...Never wanted to see you cry like that time again, idiota. I can't stand the sight of it," Romano's words were rough, but his voice was soft and gentle, a side that rarely anyone has seen.

"I understand, fratello...So please don't cry..." Veneciano whispered, sniffling softly. His fingers released his brother's hands, coming up to thumb away the tears on Romano's face. Romano snorted, despite the situation.

"I-I'm not crying, you idiot! Aren't you the one who's crying?" Protesting his own tears, Romano reached up to do the same, wiping the tears away. Slowly, he leaned his head on Veneciano's shoulders and his arms came around his brother's waist loosely. Veneciano copied Romano's moves and the brothers sat still for a while in the silence, holding each other, comforting each other until the tears dried.

Romano held Veneciano closer, not letting his brother see the visible pain in his expression. "You're going, aren't you?" Veneciano nodded, knowing that Romano could feel it without seeing it. "...I'm sorry, fratello. But this time, I'm going to chase him, catch him, and hold him so tight he will never be able to escape."

Romano closed his eyes in defeat. It was time that he let Veneciano go. Veneciano could always return to him whenever he wanted. "Go on, you idiot. But at least slap him once for me, for making you cry."

"Ve, fratello!" Veneciano laughed like he never did.


"Have you thought enough, West?" Prussia complained.

Germany shook his head. He was rarely this non-verbal, but the situation was different now. This matter was more important that any war, any political struggle. No strategy is going to work here. His mind and his heart were at odds, as they always would when it concerned Veneciano. The logical part of his mind told him his endeavor to pursue Veneciano was not going to succeed. Who would be so forgiving and kind? His heart quickly retaliated, pointing out that Veneciano was one such person.

His guilt struggled with his desire. Germany knew that he had let Veneciano down before, and no man would make his loved one cry. But still, Germany loved Veneciano. He was not sure how Veneciano would react after finding out that Germany was actually Holy Roman Empire after all this time. He knew though, the strongest emotion in him was to see Veneciano.

"Bruder...I'm going out."

Prussia smirked. "Sure...Catch him, bruder."

Germany stood up and grabbed his coat, stepping out of his home. His thoughts were focused on Veneciano. How he was going to handle everything, he didn't know, but he would decide after he got to see the angelic Italian. Without realizing it, he broke out into a run. He just wanted to see Veneciano as soon as he could. From a distance, he could hear a strange crying voice. Before his mind could register it, the image of Veneciano running towards him appeared.

"Veneciano!"

"Ve, Germany!"

Veneciano ran straight towards him, and struck out with a hand. Germany staggered back, shocked that Veneciano actually, ACTUALLY slapped him. "That was from mio fratello, Romano! Now this is from me!" After that slap, Veneciano threw his arms around the German.

"Ti amo, Germany!"

"V, Veneciano! Weren't you...wait, I have something to tell you..." Germany, having not recovered from the shock of being slapped and then hugged, was confused. Veneciano smiled up at him, happy that Germany came running out just to find him. "You don't need to say anything, Germany. I've always known, ve! I didn't really think you'd remember, though."

"...You knew?!" Germany was thrown into further turmoil. "Why didn't you tell me anything? Veneciano, I would've remembered if you told me...Did you not want me to remember...?" Like your brother, but those words were not spoken. The Italian shook his head insistently.

"Germany, to me, it didn't matter whether you remembered. I'm happy enough that you are still you. Though you forgot the past, you didn't change at all. Still scary, still careless with your expressions...but still gentle. It was more than enough for me. As long as I could be with you, I was alright."

"Veneciano...Are you not angry at me? I made you cry...broke my promise to you..." Germany's eyes were downcast, but Veneciano tilted his head up. The smaller man smiled at the blonde.

"I'm not mad. Amore will not be amore without its fair share of tears. And you didn't break your promise, ve! Just a bit late. You still came back to me. You still...love me, don't you?" The sudden insecurity in his voice made Germany impulsively embrace him.

"I do, Veneciano. Ich liebe dich. From the Nine Hundreds...Even when it was forgotten, it was still somewhere within my heart. I've always thought you were special when I first met you...again, during the first World War. Now I know why. It's because I've always loved you," Germany stated, never so sure in his life before. Usually, he would have been hesitant and embarrassed to say such things, but now was different. Now he was reunited with a love that he had kept so long.

His mind rebelliously added that Veneciano looked adorable in a skirt when he was young, but the logical part of his mind pushed those thoughts away. Not that he doubted Veneciano's looks should he wear a skirt now, but it was absolutely inappropriate to think of such a thing at such a time.

"Ve! Ti amo, Germany! Ti amo! I don't want to be apart from you anymore!" Veneciano crowed with happiness, hanging off Germany's neck while Germany supported his waist effortlessly. Germany frowned. There was still an issue to deal with. "Veneciano...Your brother, Romano...I don't think he will approve of this."

Veneciano giggled like a child. "Germany, it was mio fratello who let me come here. That's why he told me to slap you for him when I see you!"

Germany felt remorse for the slightest moment he thought bad of Romano for trying to keep them apart. Romano turned out to be a good person at heart after all. "...Then why did you reject me when I proposed to you...?"

The Italian blushed and laughed awkwardly. "Well...First, you didn't seem to know what you were doing. You broke down right after the proposal, so I thought you weren't ready to settle down. Secondly...It's quite embarrassing to be proposed to right after a first date. Lastly...I'm not the type to go for a tomato shaped ring. A simple one will just do, Germany. But I'm willing to wear it for an engagement ring."

Veneciano had meant for it to be a joke, but he was shocked when Germany drew out a familiar velvet box and took out that amusing tomato shaped ruby ring. "...Will you be my fiance then, Veneciano? Until we spend more time together and find a suitable ring for the future..." Even as he blushed, Germany was determined. This time, he was absolutely sure. Not a union of nations, but a union of themselves, just two individuals searching for happiness.

"Germany...I have a feeling I should ask you why you have the ring with you at a time like this, but oh well! Si, Germany! I'll be yours as long as you want me!" Veneciano laughed, his happiness ringing true in his voice. Gently, Germany slipped the ring onto the Italian's finger. This was the first step to their future together. "Let's go find an engagement ring for you tomorrow, Germany," Veneciano suggested with a bright smile.

"Of course, mein liebe."

"By the way, Germany..."

"Yes?"

Veneciano's eyes were filled with tears. "I think I sprained my wrist when I hit you. It hurts!"

As the newly engaged couple fussed over the sprained wrist, someone sighed. France shook his head. "I do enjoy watching passionate displays of amor, but mon Dieu, must they do it in my backyard at this time? It is a miracle Switzerland has not shot Veneciano by now. Oh well..." The Frenchman patted the video camera fondly.

"They might be mad at first, but they will be thanking me for recording one of the most memorable moments of their love. Now, bonne nuit you lovers."


OMAKE

"Vaffanculo! Germany, you che palle!"

Germany was startled when Romano had rushed into his home, looking pissed off. Not as angry as yesterday, but still pissed. "...I thought you approved," Germany mentioned in his own defence. Prussia was equally baffled at the exchange. Germany had told him all ended well, right?

"But a TOMATO-shaped ring?! Even a tomato maniac like me wouldn't wear it! You're just lucky my idiot fratello insisted it was an engagement ring and not the real deal, otherwise I'd have put a hit on you with my mafia!"

Prussia cracked up at that. "West, you did that?! A tomato-shaped ring?! Hell, I want to see it! Even the awesome me won't think of giving that ring!"

Romano growled at Prussia and turned to Germany again. "And what the hell were you thinking, confessing in FRANCE's backyard, potato bastard! Look at what he's done!" The furious Italian grabbed Germany's laptop and searched about for links. The brothers exchanged looks. What happened? Romano then thrust the laptop into Germany's hands, a YouTube link opened. Tossing himself onto the couch, Romano watched irritatedly as Germany's expression transformed from confused to horrified, while Prussia had ended up rolling on the floor, laughing.

"I've got to ask France how he recorded the moment! It's PERFECT!" Prussia howled, tears of amusement running down his face.

"All the nations saw that," Romano deadpanned.

"How is Veneciano?" Germany asked urgently. Was he being disturbed because of the video? Romano looked even angrier. "He's fucking peachy! We have the whole world at our doorstep coming to congratulate him and mio fratello is acting like he's getting married tomorrow! He almost got you a Wurst shaped ring, or a potato shaped ring, or a beer barrel shaped ring for the engagement!"

Germany paled visibly at the sheer imagination of what the rings would look like.

"Be grateful to me, bastard! I told my idiot fratello to get something else, because I already have a stupid-looking brother and I didn't want to get a stupid looking in-law!" Romano huffed. It was excruciatingly painful to be seen walking around with a brother who wore a tomato-shaped ring, especially when said brother waved it around and proudly paraded his engagement status.

Romano was this close to putting a bullet in his own head to escape the shame.

"This calls for a celebration! West, why don't you collect your little fiancee and come over here? We'll wipe out some great beer today! You are gonna stick with me, aren't ya?" Prussia purred, practically placing Romano in a headlock. Romano screeched and began struggling. "What the?! Let me go, you beer belly bastard!"

"Take care of the house!" Germany called out and left. Romano could feel doom fast approaching as the door closed.

Romano squealed when Prussia's hand casually tapped his thigh、sliding closer inwards. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Prussia grinned at him. "Oi, we're the brothers of the happy couple, aren't we? So the awesome me thinks that we should celebrate a bit..."

"Don't fucking touch Naples, bastard! I won't let you invade my vital region like Austria let you!" Romano screamed, but his struggles did not stop Prussia, simply because the Italian was weak. Prussia cackled; it was fun to tease Romano after the argument they had yesterday. "But France gets to touch Naples, eh? The awesome me should be able to as well!"

"Vaffanculo!! That was MOLESTATION, not voluntary! Chigi! W-What are you doing to Sicily, asshole?! HELP!" The terrified Italian shrieked and cried. Prussia smirked, his hands not so innocently touching Romano's chest and that certain vital region. The next moment, the albino collapsed to the ground, Romano sitting shakily on the floor. He looked up to see who his saviour was.

Hungary swung her frying pan a few times in the air. "I knew I was right to come here."


I'm back with another Hetalia fic! This time it's GermanxItaly!!

With a smallish hint of PrussiaxRomano, just a hint! XD I'm still Spamano all the way! I just wanted to give Prussia a bit of time to attempt 'invading vital regions'. Boy, Spain will not be happy if he found out. 8D

Also, I'm not quite up to translating so children, go look up the dictionary yourselves, okay? Lastly, Romano used a hell lot nasty words here, do NOT say them, okay? Especially Vaffanculo and Va cagare because they are plain vulgar. Very offensive, you do not want an Italian to punch you because you said this.

Oh, by the way, Naples is the front part of the vital region. Taranto is the back door...if you know what I mean~ 8D For those who do not understand, refer to the map. Then you'll get what I mean when I say Taranto is 'that' part. XD Sicily? Take a guess, my friends!