ᴀᴜɢᴜsᴛɪɴᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ⁞×

[the highway]

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I don't own Hetalia.

This was written (again) for the LJ comm hetachallenge's drabble challenge.

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First the first time since the last time he'd lost his voice, Veneziano was at a loss for words. "Wh—but—I can't—perché?"

Sighing, Germany attempted to soothe the Italian's nerves. "I'm not asking you a lot, Veneziano. Just this one, small—" He was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. Looking down, he was met with firm, hazel eyes.

"I don't...think you understand," Veneziano said kindly, swallowing the waver in his voice. "This—that would be too life-changing, and at a time like this, I need routine. I love you, I really do, promise! But this is one thing I won't—I can't do for you." He continued to gaze imploringly at the blonde.

"So...you won't do it." Germany's voice betrayed his disappointment.

Shaking his head, the brunette answered, "No. This is who I am, that you would even think—don't you know me at all?"

"I do!" Germany was quick to reassure the other, his hand hesitantly resting atop Veneziano's head, "But you won't even consider it?"

After a pause, Veneziano pursed his lips and looked to the side. "No, I—...no! I'm not gonna! Stop asking me to be someone I'm not!" Sniffling, he began to gather the things he'd left in Germany's room.

Just before he exited, he said to Germany with his voice a little low from trying to speak evenly, "I'm sorry. But...you'll have to find someone who'll wear pants around the house for you." A hint of wistfulness creeping into his tone, he whispered, "I'm sorry I can't be that person."

"Veneziano!" Germany called out in desperation. He was met with the sound of a shutting door and muffled sobbing. "Well...that went well."

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My honest-to-goodness reaction while finishing this up—the hell did I just write? I suppose I had to give in and write one cracky story amidst my library of angst fanfictions.

So, it's day two of that awkward time between the end of class and the first day of exams. This is the second drabble I've written, in the same time period. My muse is stimulated by the sensation of my brain exploding from attempting to study.