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I should be asleep but I feel like writing, dangit! Here we go.
This is my adaptation from the Forbidden Fruit - 30 Themes found on livejournal. I didn't really know what to do about the forbidden fruit part, so I've decided to just torture Germany for thirty chapters under the assumption that he likes Italy and doesn't understand his feelings. Because I kind of picture Ludwig as a bit of a blockhead. haha
As a forewarning, I will not be considering this one of my main stories, so it's just for fun and to help me with writer's block. For that reason I can't guarantee quality either, but feel free to critique.
Note: I use "Italia" and "Doitsu" as nicknames occasionally when they are talking to each other, because that's how they call each other in the manga and anime, and it just feels more natural. All the other times I will try to use their "real" names though: "Ludwig" and "Feliciano".
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Also: I'm new to the Hetalia fandom here so please don't hate me haha. If I make mistakes with facts or something, let me know.
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Forbidden Fruit - 30 Themes
01. Bitter
"I'm not sick, Ludwig! Really I'm not!" Feliciano tried to explain, his breath turning to fog in the cold night air. He tried to pull away from the impossibly firm grip on his wrist, but there was no hope of succeeding. It was Ludwig, after all. He dropped his shopping bags onto the sidewalk and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
"Of course you are, just look at you." Those piercing blue eyes were staring intently at Feliciano's brown ones, and there was a moment in which neither could look away. It quickly passed, however, and the Italian looked at his feet while he dug in his back pocket with the other hand for that white flag of surrender- he would be needing it soon, surely. Ludwig stepped closer, and removed his left glove before placing that hand on Feliciano's forehead. "You're warm" he said. "You're just really cold!" Feliciano replied, smiling. He coughed into his sleeve, and then continued smiling stupidly. The German took off his other glove and let them both fall to the icy sidewalk, as he checked against his own forehead. "You have a fever." Ludwig frowned.
"I'm fine! Really! As long as I can still boil pasta, there's nothing wrong with me!" Feliciano whined. It was clear who was going to win the argument, though. He clutched his white flag, preparing to wave it frantically at his friend's answer.
"Idiot." After giving a heavy sigh, surprisingly, Ludwig dropped the subject. He bent down to pick up his gloves and then slowly put them on again, carefully tugging at each finger and testing the flexibility of each fit. Feliciano stared at him curiously, the entire time, with his white flag resting limply at his side. "Your fingers look like macaroni."
"What?" Ludwig asked accusingly, and Feliciano shrunk back waving his secret weapon as a shield in front of his body. It was a reflex. "Batabatabata" he chanted. Then he sneezed, dropping the flag to the ground. And then he picked it up and continued chanting. But apparently Ludwig didn't want to pick a fight. "Sorry, Feliciano." He said. It left the poor Italian even more confused than before.
"How long are you going to stare at me like that? Come on, let's go home already."
Bending down again, Ludwig picked up the two plastic grocery bags full of pasta, and walked past Feliciano without looking at him. Sliding the bags onto his wrist, he rubbed his gloves together for warmth, staring down the deserted winter sidewalk. Night was usually very cold in Germany but tonight especially so; it seemed that through the winter months no matter how warmly dressed he was, he still felt chilled. And on top of that, he wanted to go home quickly because he didn't want the Italian to worsen his condition by just standing here.
But of course, the Italian was just standing there. Ludwig stopped walking, and waited for a moment refusing to look back. "Get over here," he said. But Feliciano didn't move at all. "Hurry up." He ordered. No response. He turned around, looking behind half expecting him to be passed out on the ground, but he was still just standing there. "Hey, come on…"
"Are you angry at me?" Feliciano asked in a very small voice.
Ludwig sighed. "No, I'm not angry."
"Then why do you look angry?"
"I'm not angry!"
"Eek, you are angry!"
"NO I'M NOT." It came out loudly before he could think, or revise it. Ludwig took a deep breath. Then he took a second one, just for good measure. He crossed his arms and had to struggle for silence, to not to embarrass himself in front of Feliciano again. "… I'm not angry." He muttered.
It's just… Italia… you say that we're friends, but the only thing you really like is pasta. Right?
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A/N: Poor awkward Doitsu. I wonder if I can really torture him for 30 chapters? I'd have to develop callouses first or something xD
Thanks for reading! Sorry I know that I don't really have a feel for the characters yet, I am sure I've made a lot of mistakes but hopefully they will be more in character by the end! There will be 29 more chapters, with a somewhat coherent story based on the list of 30 themes. This chapter was "Bitter" and next will be "Sweet".
I found the list on livejournal's 30_Forbidden community, if you're looking for it.
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