THIS IS RUSSITA FANFIC. JUST SO YOU PEOPLE WHO WILL READ THIS (MY FIRST ^3^) I AM A FUCKING HUGE FAN OF ITALY. I TAKE ALL DEM QUIZZES AND THEY ALL SAY I'M ITALY (EXCEPT ONE *CANADA, REALLY?*) SO THERE XD. PLEASE ENJOYYYYYY :D And if you want more (say, another chapter?) don't hesitate to ask! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM PLEASE! THANKS

Russia woke up in Italy, in a house he's been renting from Italy herself. He sat up and stretched, feeling every muscle on his tall body stretch out and awaken. He stood up, putting on a shirt and his slippers, quickly running his fingers through his hair. He smiled in the mirror ^J^ and then walked out to eat breakfast. He skipped the vodka this morning and just had corn flakes and his usual black coffee. He flipped on the TV, only to turn it off right after he saw a Canadian Viagra commercial. He laughed loudly to himself. Ivan finished his coffee and got dressed, cleaning up his room a second afterwards, his OCD tendencies kicking in. He thought to himself, 'I'll go for a walk today,' and put on his fall jacket, which was given to him by a certain Canadian. He walked down the street, the aroma of bread, wine, tomatoes, and garlic filling his nose. He smiled to himself as he looked at everyone smiling, dancing, and playing. It wasn't like this at all in Russia. He laughed to himself a bit. He then walked into his dear friend's restaurant. He thought he would volunteer to help with the dishes today. He looked around at all of the tables, the beautiful paintings of naked women, angels, and food, and the actual foods. He walked around until he saw the tiny Italian he'd been looking for. He walked up to the area she was standing in, talking to France. She saw him and waved, a bright smile on her face. When he got close enough to talk to her, he greeted both Italy and France. They were both beautiful people. Italy wearing her almost sexual maids outfit, with the extremely short skirt and high socks. He would always ask her why she wears the skimpy thing, and she told him 'It was given to me by Japan on my birthday. It's almost normal to wear these things in her country, and plus it looks cute on me, ve~' he admits it does look cute on her, but Ivan only wants to protect her from people who would want to touch her. And the reason that France was getting close to her was to probably flirt, knowing him. But he smiled at them anyway. "How have you been, Russia? It's been a while!" she said in her obnoxiously loud voice. He replied, "I've been great, your country is gorgeous, much nicer than Russia," smiling back. They had a short conversation, France eventually leaving. "Is it ok if I work on some dishes today? Don't pay me, I want to help."
"Be my guest, not many people have been working on it. Just note you have a lot of work to do," she fixed the white bow on her neck. "Ok, I can handle it!" he said, walking away. She saluted at him, "Make me proud!" He smiled at her widely before going inside the flappy doors. He grabbed an apron and tied it around his waist, walking to the dish washing station. He waved at everyone, saying privet to everyone in his heavy Russian accent. All of the Italian chefs waved back to him. He thought while he scrubbed the fancy plates, bowls, and silverware, about Italy and her sociable personality. There was a hole in the wall that was always ignored that had a great view of the restaurant, and Ivan had enough space to wash and look out it at the same time. It had been a good minute until he had noticed he had been staring at Feli the whole time. His eyes opened wide as he quickly got back to his work. He eventually took a peek out the hole again, watching Italy take orders, smiling and laughing with all of her customers, as if they were good friends of hers. He even saw her bend over to grab a fork that a customer had dropped, thinking (but not hoping) he'd have a panty shot. He sighed in relief when he saw she was wearing shorts under her skirt. He cared for her so much. That's when Ivan finally realized. He was in love. He opened his eyes widely again, blushing, and dropped the wet plate he was drying.