A/N: written by Feli~ yay.
I don't own Hetalia
Lying awake in bed, Germany faced a sleeping Italy. His chest rose up and down, up and down. It was four in the morning, training didn't start until six.
Germany decided to get up and get ready for today's training. He slowly sat up, careful not to wake the peaceful Italian. He took a quick shower and threw on his clothes.
Once he was ready it was about 5:45. He walked over to where Italy was laying.
"Italy…" Germany said, shaking said nation lightly. "Time to get up," Italy rolled over. "If you don't get up, you can't have pasta for breakfast." He then said sternly, and Italy sat up.
"Okay, Germany, I'm up ve!" He said, pulling on his own training clothes. "Now time for pasta!" He said, running down the stairs.
"Be careful!" Germany yelled, following Italy.
By the time Germany reached the bottom of the stairs, Italy was already in the kitchen singing to himself and making pasta. Not to mention making a mess. Germany sighed. It was nothing out of the ordinary, just a typical morning.
Even training was the same. Italy whining to go inside, Germany trying to get Italy to follow his commands. After training, even. Italy asking to go get gelato and or pasta, and taking naps.
At the end of the day, Germany retired to his study after a nice pasta dinner. Italy was already in bed, fast asleep. Germany later joined him, and the cycle would start again.
The next day was fairly different. Italy had woken up before Germany, but he didn't even make a scene about it.
Germany woke up only moments after Italy had gone downstairs, probably to make pasta. Germany walked downstairs. No Italy in the kitchen. Well, there's a first for everything. No Italy anywhere. This was odd.
"Italy?" Where could he have gone off to? Germany thought. He walked back upstairs. Turning down the long hallway, he heard someone's voice coming from behind the closet door. Slowly walking over to it, Germany recognized that voice belonged to his favorite Italian. But it sounded hushed, like a whisper, and strained, as if he was scared or worried.
Germany turned the knob on the door. Opening it, he noticed Italy was sitting on the floor with his knees to his chest and his arms wrapped around them.
"Italy…?" Said nation's head snapped up. His eyes were red and his face was puffy. He was crying.
"G-Germany… I'm sorry I'm late for training…" His voice had pain in it. A lot of pain.
"Italy, what's wrong?" Germany said, crouching down to Italy's level. Italy only continued to cry. Germany sighed and left the closet, closing the door behind him.
Why is he so upset? He's never that upset. Never. I can't think of one reason why'd he'd be in such a state! Did I do something wrong to offend or hurt him? No… I don't think so.
Germany decided to cancel training for the day, not because Italy was mentally wrecked at the moment, put it was also pouring like mad.