BeBe: Seriously, if I owned Hetalia, would I be writing this on Fanfiction?
Germany felt his eye twitch as he watched his red haired friend scarf down yet another plate of pasta. It was his fifth serving, and he didn't even look comfortably full, yet. Where was the guy putting it all?
A small smile turned up on his face, as he came up with an idea. He was wondering if there was a type of pasta the grandson of Roman Empire hadn't tried. Of course there was!
Germany walked away from Italy who was currently downing his eighth plate. The blonde moved over to his phone, before dialing a quite unfamiliar number. He knew that out of anyone in the world, she would have some kind of pasta that the red head hadn't tried.
{A week later}
"Germany! Germany!" Italy bounced, excitedly in his chair. "What's the big surprise you have for me?"
Germany's eyebrow ticked, as he kept the blind folded Italian seated. If he'd known that it would take this long to make the dish, he wouldn't have even tried. But he wanted to see if there was any other kind of food that Italy liked-even if it was just a different brand of pasta.
"Keep quiet, and I'll go get it." He growled, before standing up and walking over to the kitchen door. Thankfully, Italy kept still as he did so. "How much longer?" he called inside.
"Hold on to your horses!" a female voice came drifting out. "I'm almost done!"
The door opened to reveal a girl with dirty blonde hair that was pulled up into a pony tail, with blue eyes, and glasses. This was America's oldest daughter, Washington D.C. Or, Erica, as she preferred to be called by her human name.
"Okay, Italy!" she smiled, calling him by his country name, seeing as she couldn't pronounce his human one. "You can take the blindfold off, now!"
Italy yanked the piece of cloth off of his face, as D.C. set the plate down in front of him. He stared at the noodles for a while, before looking up at Germany.
"What's this?" he asked, poking the bright yellow pasta with his fork.
"It's pasta." D.C laughed. "Just… with a twist, try it."
Italy stabbed one of the noodles, and put it in his mouth. A dark saddened aura seemed to poor from around him, as he finished chewing.
"This sucks." He muttered, in a sad tone.
"What?" Germany cried, slamming his hands down on the table. "But it's pasta!"
D.C laughed, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down, Ludwig. Just because it's pasta doesn't mean he has to like it."
"But-"
"Ludwig, not everyone has to like Mac N' Cheese."
BeBe: Just a random idea me and my friend Rina had. I decided to type it up, it's five in the morning, so sorry if it sucks.