"Trapped home!" read Italy's text, followed by a picture of him holding a cat next to the window that showed the snow piling up halfway up.
Exactly five minutes later, Germany was outside his house, shoveling away the snow.
Italy opened the second floor window. "I made pizza!" he called from above.
Germany nodded and went back to shoveling. "I'll be done in a moment," he said, calculating that he would finish shoveling in roughly 14.5 minutes.
Italy threw a rope down the window, and slid down with a pizza in one hand. Germany blinked. He didn't even know that Italy could do that, much less while holding pizza.
"What are you doing?" asked Germany.
"You always work so hard," said Italy, smiling up at him in that bright way that always sent Germany's heart racing.
"Go back, the pizza will get cold," grumbled Germany, trying not to look at him and to memorize the way his eyes lit up with that perfect smile, all at the same time.
Italy giggled and snuggled against him. "I'm cold," he said with a sigh.
Germany blinked, realizing that the snow was merely a side effect, and looked down at him. "I'm sorry," he said, and kissed him
I'm sorry for not being here. I'm sorry for working day and night. I'm sorry for not knowing how to say I love you, even though love burns in my chest every time I think about you.
Notes:
Dedicated to cyggiestardust, who requested it over at my Tumblr.
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