Another Hetalia oneshot brought to you by the not particularly lovely or talented Spazzkitty. After Cotton Candy Smiles, I wanted something sweet and purely fluffy, so I wrote this. I DON'T OWN HETALIA. Please don't sue me.
Pencil strokes
Chibitalia seemed to be made of soft lines, like the gentle brush strokes he could skillfully weave with a paintbrush. The soft folds of his warm, green dress. The easy flip of his mahogany hair, the way a strand swung upward into a curl. The round, chocolate-colored innocence that were the small nation's eyes. The pudgy, smooth fingers on his pudgy, smooth hands. The way the white kerchief lay lightly on his head, fitting perfectly to the contours of his unruly hair. And, finally, the gentle, natural curve of his smile. Holy Roman Empire had tried to draw Chibitalia over and over again. Italy was made primarily of those soft curves and shapes, so why was the other nation so impossible to draw?
Holy Roman Empire had tried to draw Chibitalia's soft, flouncy hair, and it had looked crude and angular. The younger boy's brown eyes had changed from soulful to dull when Holy Roman Empire tried to capture them on paper. Even Holy Roman Empire's favorite part, the beaming smile, looked forced and unhappy in his drawing.
With an irritated cry, the small blonde ripped the paper down the center and balled up both parts. Throwing them away so they tumbled down the grassy hill, he picked up another sheet. A small sparrow fluttered onto one of the balls of paper and perched there, tweeting in mild curiosity.
Holy Roman Empire sighed and lifted his pencil again. Maybe he should practice more before attempting Chibitalia again. He began to draw the bird's head and the curve of its beak before he stopped in frustration. Even the little bit he had just done looked horrible to him, too dark and unrefined. Most things came fairly easily to him, and he wasn't used to having such a difficult time with something. He felt hot, angry tears well up in his eyes and he bit his lip to stop them from trickling out. Suddenly, he felt a presence leaning over his shoulder and a docile, sweet voice ask, "What are you drawing, Holy Roman Empire?"
Holy Roman Empire blushed furiously and turned around. "Chibitalia?"
Chibitalia stood next to Holy Roman Empire, on his way back from drawing water from the well, as evident from the wooden bucket in his hands. The bucket was full to the brim with water and Chibitalia had accidentally sloshed the sparkling well water all over Holy Roman Empire's boots, but neither seemed to notice. Chibitalia was too interested in the drawing, and Holy Roman Empire was too mortified by his lack of artistic talent.
"Wow! Holy Roman Empire, you never told me you could draw! It looks really good!" Chibitalia praised cheerfully. Holy Roman Empire shook his head forcefully, turning away.
"It looks horrible," he said sadly.
"What do you mean?"
"The lines are all wrong. The whole thing looks wrong," he said, refusing to turn around. Chibitalia reevaluated the drawing.
"I don't see anything wrong with it, but I can help you if you want." Finally, Holy Roman Empire turned around to meet Chibitalia's gaze.
"Really?" he asked timidly.
"Sure," responded the brunette easily. "Just erase the lines you don't like and I can help you with fixing them."
Holy Roman Empire quickly erased the entire picture and looked at Chibitalia intently. The young artist smiled. "Okay. Your problem is that you make your lines too dark and sharp, right?" Holy Roman Empire nodded vigorously. "That's because you only make one line when you're drawing." Holy Roman Empire looked at him with confusion. "Here, I'll show you!" he said, grabbing the blonde boy's hand with the pencil in it. Not noticing the way Holy Roman Empire's face blushed a light pink, he began to guide the older nation's hand into drawing small, neat lines.
"See?" Italy said, stepping back so Holy Roman Empire could see the drawing. Holy Roman Empire looked at the near-perfect replica of a sparrow's head with surprised delight. Many smaller lines combined to make each stroke, not only making the lines smoother, but giving texture to the picture as well. "Now you do the rest and I'll watch you!" Italy said cheerfully.
Holy Roman Empire did his best to finish the picture, but he was finding it difficult to concentrate on the new drawing style with Chibitalia leaning over his shoulder, close enough that he could feel Italy's single curly strand of hair brushing his cheek. He was surprised Chibitalia couldn't hear his heartbeat, as it was pounding deafeningly in his own ears. His pulse was so loud that he couldn't understand the question Italy had just asked. "What did you say?" Holy Roman Empire asked sheepishly.
"Are you done? It's wonderful!" The little boy said happily. Holy Roman Empire realized finally that he was done. Taking a look at his drawing, he couldn't help but grin in delight. While the blonde had zoned out, he had completed the drawing. Despite the fact that it wasn't as good as Chibitalia could draw himself, the sketch was well-drawn and pretty.
He turned to Chibitalia with a goofy, beaming grin. "I did it!" he cried. Chibitalia smiled back, that content little quirk of his mouth that Holy Roman Empire adored.
"I told you that you were a good artist," Chibitalia chirped. Holy Roman Empire finally looked fully at Chibitalia's face and began to get hypnotized by the beautiful brown eyes staring back at him. Without even realizing what he was doing, the young nation held out the drawing to the carefree boy in his soft, cotton dress.
"Here," he mumbled shyly. Italy just looked at him, his face an expression of his absolute surprise. Holy Roman Empire felt the blood rush to his face and he backtracked hastily in his embarrassment. "That is, if you want it."
Italy's expression slowly shifted from surprise to pure, innocent, elation. "Really?" he asked eagerly. "I can have it?" Holy Roman Empire merely nodded, having lost both his voice and his nerve at the sight of Italy's adorable, excited face. Chibitalia's face flushed a light pink. "I love it! I'm going to go show Hungary right now!" he said delightedly, turning quickly and toddling at full speed back to the house. Holy Roman Empire watched him go with a small smile on his face. The second Italy was in the house, Holy Roman Empire sprang up and grabbed the pencil and paper he had left on the hill.
He began to sketch fervently, remembering the expression of joy on Chibitalia's small face and the technique the brunette nation had taught him. He felt nervous thinking of every curve, every soft line- the arc of the boy's smile, the roundness of his pink cheeks. He had no doubt he would mess up horribly, yet when he finished, he gave a grin of triumph. He had drawn it perfectly.