I didn't really want to visit Italy's house. His lifestyle was messy and disorderly, and I couldn't help but clean up after him even when he was just at my own house. I got the feeling that if I stepped foot in his house I might have heart failure. But I didn't really have a choice in the matter.
I tried to ignore the gross amounts of graffiti as we entered Rome. Outskirts of cities were like this, I told myself. Not in my cities, maybe, but in other countries... But as we got further and further in, I realised with horror that it wasn't lessening. How could he just leave it like this? Graffiti is a crime, and these buildings were disgusting.
"Germany?" Italy said, taking my hand, "What do you think of Rome? Do you like it?"
A bead of sweat broke out on my forehead as I forced myself to say "Yes."
"Ah~! I'm so pleased!" he sighed, and skipped down the street, dragging me behind him in a very undignified manner.
Rome, although messy, was very pretty. Like Italy, actually. That was not a good comparison! I felt myself going red, but Italy didn't notice, dancing around water fountains and statues.
His house needed some repair. The paint was peeling and it was crumbling slightly, but it was intricately designed and very old. I got a sudden image of Italy handing me a glass of beer while I wipe sweat off my brow, paintbrush in my other hand. It's true that I wanted to paint it, but... The rest of that scenario was just silly. I shook my head and followed Italy into the house.
My breath caught in my throat as I saw the state of the inside.
"I-Italy..." I gasped, my voice strained, "Ca-can... Can I clean your house?"
Italy looked at me, confused.
"Well, I mean, sure, if you want, Germany... But don't you want to spend time with me? I want to spend time with you~..." I looked down at him and my eyes softened. But then they drifted to a pile of dirty socks by his feet and I shuddered.
"I'd much rather clean up." I admitted. There was a pause.
"Okay!" said Italy, with a little jump. He kissed me on the cheek and ran into the kitchen, leaving me to it.
"Italy, where do you keep your cleaning equipment?" But he was gone.
I was cleaning out Italy's bedroom, while he was having his siesta in the bed, when I noticed something on the wall. It was a painting. It looked like a little girl curled up asleep on a chair, but she had Italy's hair curl. Did Italy have a sister? Not that I'd heard about. Perhaps one of his citizens, then. I took my gloves off and reached up to it. I took it down and stared hard at it, sure that there was something familiar about it.
Suddenly a wave of memories hit me like a brick to the face. I... Had painted this... And given it to the one I loved...
"Italy!" I barked loudly, "Wake up! Wake up now! This is much more important than your siesta!" Italy stretched, yawned, and blinked grungy eyes at me.
"What is it, Germany?" he asked groggily.
"What are you doing with this? Where did you get it?! Tell me!" I demanded, angry and upset.
Italy just smiled.
"You gave it to me, Germany." he said simply. I looked at him, dumbfounded. No, I had given this to the girl I loved! What was that girl's name? I racked my brain, trying desperately to remember. What as her name? What was her name?
Italy.
I sank to my knees.
"Italy..." I sobbed. The Italian got off the bed, crouched down next to me, and took my hand gently. I squeezed his fingers tightly, not wanting to ever let go. It all came flooding back now, all that I'd forgotten, all that had been erased. "I love you more than life..."
"Amore mio." He forced his hand out of mine, took my head in both his hands and tilted it back so he could kiss me. He kissed me with such passion that I never wanted it to end. Not ever. I was prepared to abandon everything for this country. And as our clothes slowly dropped one by one to the floor, I didn't even fold them up.
Author's Note: I used Google Translate for that last part of Italian there. Sort of based on when I went to Rome, the graffiti part anyway. XD I swear to god, it didn't ease up!