A/N: My attempt at an implied GerIta and PruIta (GerItaPru?) drabble. 'Tis short.


He was off-limits. He knew it better than anyone.

He could see it in the way his bruder looked at him, the way he treated and scolded him. He could even see it in the way he walked, body turned slightly inwards and muscles taunt across his back. It was obvious, way too obvious, but his bruder seemed ignorant to even his own feelings.

Yet, he was off-limits, and it killed him.

"Ve~! Gil!" He blinked, and he suddenly had his arms full of a grinning Italy, "Ludwig won't let me make pasta tonight!" He was pouting then, his full bottom lip jutting out. His eyes lingered – he was helpless, really – on those lips, then darted upwards to see Ludwig's darkened eyes lingering on his arms around Italy.

"You're so cute, Italy!" He nuzzled into Italy's neck and hugged him close. Italy hummed cheerfully in his ear, tightened his arms around him in another hug before he darted off. He could only watch Italy's back as he attached himself to his bruder's arm, chattering away at Ludwig's suddenly amused face.

Italy was off-limits, and yet he couldn't quite squash the fluttering in his stomach when Italy's amber eyes met his and held them.