I don't own Hetalia and a little part in this that comes from a post I saw on Instagram (the pasta part)

Prussia's POV:

Today, the awesome me invited myself to my brother's house since that now I live with my girlfriend, Hungary. I was not surprised to see the little Italian opening the front door for me. He seems to have made it his home with my brother. It seems that no matter what happens, they will always find each other again.

Feliciano leads me to the living room where my little brother is watching a football match.

"Ve! Germany, your brother is here." says Italy with a bright smile.

West grumbles, still watching his football match. Italy and I wait a moment knowingly before my little brother shakes his head and turns towards us.

"Bruder?! What are you doing here?" he exclaims, visibly surprised to see my awesomeness.

"Why, I'm visiting my favorite little brother, of course!" I answer loudly, plopping next to him on the couch. "Who versus who?" I ask, nodding towards the television after putting my feet on the table.

My brother pushes my feet off of it, grumbling about how I would dirty his 'beautiful' table with my 'dirty' boots instead of answering my interesting question. The red head chuckles before leaving for the kitchen, shouting at us:

"Ve! I'm going to prepare some pasta to celebrate your visit Prussia!"

Someone at least notices my awesomeness.

"Pasta isn't even that good." mutters Ludwig under his breath.

"DO YOU WANT ME TO BURN YOUR ENTIRE FUCKING COUNTRY TO THE GROUND?" screams Italy from the kitchen, scaring my brother to death.

"Kesesese, it's been a while since you live together and you still don't know to never insult pasta in front of him?" I cackle mockingly.

He glares at me, a blush adorning his cheeks, before turning back towards his football game, grumbling incoherently.

Some things never change, I think while watching my now grown up brother sadly. He wasn't always that happy but...I wish I could tell him about his childhood...about him and...Italy. How in love he was with him, or her as he thought at that time. How they kissed once. How they spent so much time together...

I remember, when he first met Italy. When I saw him after he met him for the first time, he was smiling and, for Holy Roma, it was something. He had that look in his eyes I had never seen before. He looked happy for once in his life. Even if I never say it, I really love my brother and seeing him that happy made me happy. But he just had to fuck everything up.

Even though Italy was a pacifist even then and begged him not to go, he went to war. It was beautifully sad how they told each other goodbye. And that broom...we still have it in the attic, even if Germany doesn't know about it. My brother was convinced he would win and had promised Italy to come back...but he got hurt really badly. I really thought he would die, everyone thought he would die. But I couldn't abandon him. He was my little brother, he was my responsibility, my family. I did everything in my power to heal him. And I managed to, but not without scars. And I am not talking about physical scars, I am talking about mental scars. It was too hard for him and he fell into a coma. And when he woke up, he didn't know who he was, where he was or why he was there. He forgot everything, even Italy.

My brother didn't have a good childhood and I hate myself for that. I wanted him to have a second chance to have a good childhood, to be happy. It destroys me to keep things from him, especially about Italy's existence, but his happiness is worth every stars in the universe. And how could I know they would meet again and become friends?

When I saw my brother with Italy again, my heart was crushed once more. Neither one of them recognized the other. They were once again becoming friends and slowly falling in love. I knew that. I could see it in my brother's eyes. I wanted to tell them but I didn't know if it was a good idea. So, I told Romano.

He screamed about how Germany didn't deserve his brother, that he already broke his little brother's heart once and that he shouldn't come near Italy again. I couldn't calm him down but, thankfully, Spain was here to take charge. We came to the agreement to let Fate decide. After all, if after all this time they were reunited again, maybe it is destiny. And the more I watch them together, the more that possibility seems plausible.

But, of course, my brother is too shy to tell Italy about his feelings and Italy is too oblivious to do so as well. And I am still waiting for them to get together once again.

I look back at West who is still watching his football match avidly and then turn my head towards the kitchen where Italy is cooking. If my little brother wasn't so stubborn, they could be married right now.

I feel my eyes well up with tears and so I look down at the ground. It is my fault they suffered so much. It is my fault they are only friend. It is my fault that Italy's heart was broken. It is my fault that my brother misses half of his childhood. It is my fault that those two cannot recognize each other. I broke them and I can't do anything to fix it.