SOY: hello there! I wasn't properly planning to write this, but things got the best of me, so you get a small fanfic regarding Austria and Italy. Please enjoy the first chapter, and do not forget to drop by a review to tell me if you liked!

…–…–…–…–…–…

Rating: K+.

Warnings: Austria's language style, fluff and crack and sappiness?

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

…–…–…–…–…–…

Fluttering Chaos

Chapter 01

With a soft sigh, Austria walked through the corridor leading to the meeting hall, checking the documents he was holding in his arms for the tenth time, as if to make sure that they hadn't changed disposition in the last three minutes.

The meeting he was going to was only the first in his list of bothersome things he had to do for the day, and he wanted nothing more than get out of it as soon as possible.

As he got closer and closer to the door of the room, he could distinctly hear some of the European Nations present there bitching at each other; Czech and Slovakia were yelling loudly, and he almost turned around to leave, only to stop himself at the last second.

He couldn't just leave like that, mainly because one of the planned subjects regarded him, but Austria had never had enough patience to deal with the two rebellious Nations, especially this early in the morning.

Yet, this was a meeting, and he had to participate. Doing the opposite would only create problems for him.

With a sigh, he straightened his back, wondering if it was better to first get a coffee. He might need it, but…

"Ve~ Roderich? Buongiorno!"

He halted his movements and turned around, nodding at the two Italian brothers moving closer.

Italy waved happily at him whilst his older brother simply grunted, not even bothering with verbal greetings.

Austria inwardly frowned at the uncouth lack of appropriate manners, but had given up on Romano acting like a proper gentleman with males centuries before.

"Guten morgen, Feliciano, Lovino," he nodded at them, face carefully blank.

Italy beamed at him, opening his mouth to talk, but Romano was already bored, and bumping against his brother's arm, stomped towards the door, only hesitating when he heard a particularly loud curse coming from the other side.

Austria shook his head, about to follow the two Italians, then he noticed something that made him stop.

"Wait a moment, Feliciano!"

Italy tilted his head to the side and turned around, eyes opening wide as he stared at Austria stomping closer, eyes set on him, expression serious. "V–ve? Is there something wrong with me?"

"You really are hopeless, Feliciano," Austria muttered under his breath, sighing as he reached forwards for Italy's chest. "Your tie is crooked… here, let me–"

Italy's shoulders dropped a bit in relief as he allowed Austria to fix it for him, a faint flush on his cheeks.

Mentally shaking his head, Austria wondered if Italy would ever hold himself properly to his status; when he'd been living at his house, despite the problems they had gone through for the first few decades (Austria still didn't like to remember how he had been under the impression that Italy was a girl), at least the little Italian teen had been properly dressed and well–behaving.

Nowadays, all he did was run around mostly naked, unless he had official meetings.

Still, remembering the little Italy of back then, Austria had to admit that now things were so very different; Italy was almost as tall as he was, he'd truly grown up…

"Here, all done," he stated, pulling away. "You should try to…" he trailed off as he stared at Italy, who was smiling warmly up at him.

Something shifted inside him –the picture of little Italy crumbled into small shards, and was replaced with older Italy, the one standing in front of him. his heart skipped a beat without reason.

"Do I look good now, Roderich?" with a small tilt of his head, Italy pointed to his now fixed tie, cheeks still flushed.

Austria didn't know what to say.

Part of him wanted to answer that yes, of course Italy looked proper –it was just a stupid crooked tie, the rest of his suit was impeccable– but the main part of him took in the sight in front of him, and didn't really know what to say.

Italy looked good in that dark suit (probably one of his branded ones), it made his eyes stand out more; and then there was his built –no more that of a child, he looked fit, yet still lithe enough to not fall in the 'manly' category.

Young Italy had twirled for decades in female clothes, fitting into them perfectly, moving through Austria's house with his vacant, bright smile yet shy and attentive, and for a moment, as the Austrian aristocrat had looked up from the fixed tie, he had expected Italy to still look like that –small, innocent and cute.

Somehow, the sight of a grown–up, matured Italy didn't fit his mental image at all, no matter if under the slightly more attentive expression he was wearing, there was the same bright, innocent smile.

Italy was an adult now, and even Austria had to admit that he looked good.

When had he changed so much? He couldn't remember.

Feeling embarrassed for his own thoughts, Austria pressed his lips together in a thin line, and made a motion towards the door, where Romano was standing, looking uninterestedly at them.

"Uh… yes, of course. Stop asking such stupid questions already and get in the room, the meeting is about to start!"

"Ve~ thank you! Roderich is always nice with me~"

Italy grabbed his brother's arm and pushed the door open, stepping into the meeting room with a happy laugh.

Austria was left alone in the corridor, completely still and flustered at Italy's nice words, unable to move and feeling unexpectedly rattled.

…–…–…–…

With a soft sigh, Austria shut the door behind his back and neatly placed his jacket on the rack next to the entrance.

With methodical, familiar motions, he walked through the main corridor and dropped the package of documents on the small table in the corner, then removed his shoes and placed them on the shoe–cupboard, taking out his slippers and putting those on.

Then, eyes still vacant, he walked to the kitchen and served himself a glass of wine.

He sipped the cool red liquid slowly, letting it rest in his mouth for a little longer, swallowing it in small gulps, refreshed by its tangy taste, before washing the glass in the sink, drying it up and placing it back where it belonged.

All of that was done in complete silence, the usual routine for when he came back home from a meeting.

After that, he moved to his bedroom.

There were a lot of clothes that Austria used when going out, most of them looking just as uncomfortable as those he used when he remained home, but there was difference for him anyway, and he pulled one of his house–attires out from the armoire.

Mind carefully blank, Austria placed his used clothes back into the drawer and walked to the final destination, the music room.

There was no one else in the house –at this time of the day, his maids were left free of work and Hungary would only come to visit him later in the afternoon– and the feeling allowed him to relax as he sat down to the piano, cracking his knuckles and lifting the lid of the keyboard up.

Another second of silence, in which all the thoughts he'd tried to keep at bay cluttered together to the front of his mind, pushing at each other, demanding to be addressed…

Then his fingers fell on the keys, and music filled up the nothingness.

For the entire duration of the meeting, Austria's eyes had returned to Italy over and over.

Unable to let his mind wander elsewhere, the Austrian Nation had tried hard to concentrate on business matters, but not even the problems of his own boss had been enough to absorb his attention.

Sitting there for over two hours, Austria had enough time to think.

And most of all, he had enough time to cringe away from his thoughts, from the fact that like a moth to a flame, his eyes were continuously returning to Italy, much to his shame.

To the way his curl bounced up and down as he nodded and waved his arms around.

To the way his eyes crinkled with amusement when his brother spitted nonsense curses towards nearby nations.

The silly smile that he reserved to people around him, yet the way his face turned serious when his turn to talk arrived.

It was stupid –he couldn't be paying attention to Italy, at least not like that; he'd known him for centuries. He'd been the one to raise the little colony up, it was preposterous. It was embarrassing.

Austria's fingers danced on the piano, the familiar tunes of Chopin curling around him, enveloping his mind, helping him calm down.

This was nothing.

He was just thinking far too much. That feeling would surely abate.

As he played, he tried to concentrate on Italy's face back then, and sighed.

When Hungary arrived, coming in with her own key, he was still in the music room, playing endless Chopin melodies.

…–…–…–…

Austria checked the list he'd compiled, wondering once again when he'd run out of sugar and milk, and then looked up.

He was standing into a newly opened supermarket at a mall not far from his house, and it was really huge; the fact that he was there had nothing to do with the grand opening or the fact that it was closer… simply, on his way to the usual shop, he'd somehow gotten lost, and ended up there.

There were so many brands of products… he'd never even heard of some of them.

How was he supposed to know which ones were good, and which ones were not?

With a sigh, he walked down the first aisle, eyeing the many products with a grating look; he wasn't in the right mood to spend too much time like this. He had enough things in his mind already, and many of them were not exactly something he wanted to think about.

Like the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about Italy.

Nothing embarrassing, thankfully –he simply could not move his attention to something else without it reminding him of Italy, one way or the other.

Walking through the halls of his own house, he remembered a younger, adorable Italy skipping down the corridors, holding his brush in his little, chubby hands, and drawing all over his walls.

Even that thought wasn't enough to make Austria angry anymore –far from it, he'd started to consider it rather endearing. And it scared him.

Italy wasn't endearing. Nor cute. And definitely he wasn't someone Austria should think so much about.

He was clumsy, silly, and it infuriated him all the time. Even back then, when Italy had been naught but a colony, Austria had found him annoying.

Well, it wasn't entirely true. Little Italy had charmed many during his stay at Austria's mansion, and Austria himself hadn't been completely resistant to his cute face, yet had managed to hold his own rather well.

Still, it was wrong.

Thinking about Italy as anything more than someone he'd raised from a bean sprout to a full–fledged nation…

Austria didn't like this new 'sappiness', and it confused him.

What had changed?

Had he been so blind of Italy's changes that they had hit him all at once, causing such an uproar inside him?

Something inside him had shifted. His perspective of things. The way he looked at Italy had changed.

Such a stupid thing… yet, he couldn't stop his thoughts.

So, he'd been careful to ignore Italy –which wasn't really hard, considering they barely spent time together nowadays. Keeping away from him would allow his mind to sort through these new… thoughts of his, and everything would return to how it was before.

"Ve~ Roderich? You're here too?"

Austria fought the urge to look up, knowing he would be faced with cold ceilings and neon lamps and most definitely not with whatever being hated him so much, and sighed.

Inwardly, he wondered why his resolve was being tested so early on.

"Feliciano…?"

Turning around, Austria tried to convince himself that facing Italy wouldn't be bad. Maybe that time at the meeting (two days prior) had been a one–time problem, and now he'd just realise how silly he'd been, thinking about things too much, but…

Italy smiled at him, holding a basket filled with food, his head tilted to the side, looking so bright and nice and cute, and Austria's heart did a strange sort of complicated flip in his chest.

Blinking, the Austrian Nation tried to focus on Italy's words, but his eyes were attracted by the other man's lips, then by the bouncing curl, then tracing the contours of Italy's face, the way his hair looked, bright and vivid…

"–to come here," Italy blinked, coming to a halt. "Ah… Roderich? Are you ok? You look a bit red…"

Shaking himself out of his trance, Austria flushed in utter embarrassment as he realised he had spaced out, something unprecedented, and he'd done it to admire Italy's face, of all things?

Oh, God… he had it bad.

"Ah, uh, I'm sorry, Feliciano, I didn't quite catch what you said," he admitted, looking down at his own shopping list with a frown.

He felt utterly at loss, and he didn't like it. He hadn't allowed anyone to make him feel like this, confused and unable to concentrate, and now, because of Italy, of all people…

Nonsense. He was so stupid…

"Ve~ Roderich must not be feeling well…" much to Austria's shock, Italy moved forwards, breaking through his personal space to press a hand on his forehead.

The hand was cool and smooth, and Austria's brain registered the feeling, connecting the sensation as belonging to Italy.

Realising this, his cheeks burned crimson without his consent, and Italy's eyes turned even more concerned, though he moved away quickly so not to be scolded about his bold action.

He was still aware that Austria didn't like him to get too close, but he had not been able to stop himself, this time.

"Ah! You're all red! A–are you coming down with a fever? Can I do something?"

Clearing his throat, Austria pushed the other's hand away, face returning to a steely expression. "Calm down Feliciano!" he ordered in a strict tone.

Immediately, Italy shut down and stared up at him meekly, a reminder of how he used to act back then. Austria shook his head.

"I'm feeling fine, you stupid boy. I just have more pressing things to think about than you. Now, what did you say?"

With a small pout that managed to strike guilt into Austria's heart, Italy looked down at the floor. "I've seen the ads on Ludwig's TV, and it looked like a convenient place where to buy groceries… ve~"

"I see," with a soft sigh, Austria waved at the aisles. "It is definitely too big for me. I am having a hard time finding where things are".

"Ah! Let me see~" coming far too close once again, invading Austria's personal space for the second time in two minutes, Italy peered at the shopping list and brightened up. "I've been there already, let me show you!"

"Feliciano, I don't think it is a–"

Then he registered Italy's hand tugging at his sleeve, those hopeful brown eyes looking up at him, and he felt his resolve crumble and disappear.

With his heart having its own private party, Austria allowed Italy to conduce him around the aisles, never ever taking his eyes away from him.

…–…–…–…

"Roderich? Is there something wrong?"

Shifting his attention away from his piano, Austria glanced up at the woman who was leaning towards him, eyes betraying her concern, and let out a soft sigh.

"No, Elizaveta, I'm fine," allowing his lips to twitch upwards, Austria nodded at her to sit down.

Hungary nodded and sat on a nearby chair, hands neatly folded on her lap.

Holding her stare for a moment more, Austria forced himself to look back at his piano. This wouldn't do –he knew Hungary longer than he'd known Italy, and she was one that could read him like he did with his music sheets.

If there was someone who could know instantly that Austria was having problems, that was Hungary.

And the Austrian Nation did not intend to allow that to happen.

His fingers moved on the piano keys, drawing out another Chopin melody –it felt far too familiar, he had been playing Chopin for weeks now, but he couldn't stop. His music was soothing, helping him calm down.

He couldn't change it just because Hungary was there to listen.

"You've been playing Chopin a lot, lately".

He knew she would not let the subject drop, but he was equally stubborn. "Is that so?"

Hungary let out a soft hum and nodded, even though the other didn't turn around to look at her. She could feel something was wrong, but she didn't know the reason, and it bugged her. She cared for Austria, after all, and seeing him upset made her anxious.

"What is it troubling you?"

"Nothing is".

"You play Chopin when you are upset".

He didn't reply, but the melody turned into a different song once again.

"Roderich…"

"… it is nothing," he murmured. 'Nothing you could be able to help me with, at least'.

"But it is making you this upset, I am sure there is something wrong, and I only want to help!" shifting forwards a bit, Hungary placed her hand on Austria's shoulder, as an attempt to be reassuring; knowing she was only trying to show her support, he didn't shake the hand away, yet did not answer, either.

The notes continued floating around them, holding his emotions at bay.

"Is it about Gilbert again?" the way Hungary said his name, Austria had the distinct feeing that Prussia would soon be on the receiving end of a frying pan.

Although he didn't quite care for the idiotic albino's health, allowing him to get maimed by Hungary for something that had nothing to do with him sounded uncouth on his part.

He shook his head.

"No, that idiot has nothing to do with this" he replied.

He could feel her hold on his shoulder relax visibly, then move away. He sighed again.

"Did Ludwig's dogs get into your house again?" this time, her tone was almost amused.

With a frown, Austria performed a complex round of notes before turning to look at her. Noticing his frown, Hungary hid her smile behind one hand.

"Then, was it Vash? I spoke with Lili earlier today, and–"

"No," he put enough stress on the world to make sure she would stop. "It is not Vash either… and before you ask, it has nothing to do with Francis or Antonio, either".

"So it is not them, yet it is something bad enough to make you this stiff?" Hungary's tone switched back to worry and she tapped her foot on the floor, almost impatiently. "I don't understand".

"Could you please drop the subject? I am not comfortable in speaking about that…"

Hungary fell silent for a moment, then let out a defeated sigh. She knew that something was wrong with Austria, but if he refused to talk with her about it, there was nothing she could do.

"I went with Feliks at the new supermarket open nearby," she stated instead, noticing with a small pout how Austria's shoulders relaxed instantly. "There is a bookstore there, and it has a delicious pastry shop! Though nothing like the kind of desserts you can make, Roderich".

Austria let out a soft hum and changed song.

He didn't mind Hungary's chatting, he'd grown accustomed to it, and he quite liked her voice anyway. It complemented his music well.

For a moment, he allowed himself to wonder how would Italy's singing voice sound, then hastily pushed the thought away. He was trying to ignore Italy, not think about him.

"I went to the mall myself, a few days ago," he admitted, fingers stopping their course for a moment, almost waiting for something. "I hadn't planned to, but…" he hesitated, letting Hungary know that getting there had been just a chance.

"Ah, so that is where you bought all those new brands of food? I was wondering about that," Hungary chuckled. "But I do have to admit that your latest Sacher was excellent".

Austria nodded in thanks and opened his lips to say such. "I met Feliciano there".

As soon as he stated his name loudly, he stiffened. He hadn't meant to mention him, and definitely, there had been no reason to do so. They were talking about food.

All of sudden, he felt terribly awkward and exposed.

Hungary looked at him in confusion, but smiled anyway. "How is he?"

"… fine," he replied, refusing to give in to his need to fidget. "Normal. Like usual".

"It has been a while since I've last seen him! Feliks sees him more than I do!" with a pout, Hungary took out her phone. "I'm definitely going to call him!"

"Wait, now?" Austria swore he risked a whiplash with how fast he turned to look at her, still feigning calm. "Elizaveta, it's almost supper time…"

"Yes, and we had plans to dine together, right? Then it won't be a problem if I invite Feli over!" she was already smiling, dialling Italy's phone number with something akin to glee. "I'll prepare some somloi galuska for dessert!"

Austria swallowed and looked back at the piano, knowing he had no way to go against Hungary's determination –once that woman was set on something, there was nothing that could stop her.

"Ah, Feli!" the Hungarian woman chirped, waving happily at the Austrian Nation. "I'm calling from Roderich's house, and we were wondering if–"

Austria brushed his fingers on the white keys and tried to strengthen his resolve. Having Italy over would be ok. He just had to ignore the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about the other, and it would be fine.

Yes, nothing to worry about.

…–…–…–…–…–…

SOY: so, that was it for the first chapter ^^

Buongiorno (Italian) – Good morning

Guten morgen (German/Austrian) – Good morning.

Somloi galuska – typical Hungarian dessert, translated roughly into "sponge cake", with walnuts, raisins, cream and rum.