Together Again
Summary: Germany Remembers
Germany heaved a deep breath as he wiped the sweat from his forehead; cleaning the attic was always a hassle, especially since this was the first time he'd ever done it. Germany kept items of his past up here, the worst ones, so he'd forget about his ugly sins but there was a leak I the ceiling somewhere so he had to go through everything to find the spot.
"It's got to be here somewhere," Germany muttered annoyed as he lifted another box.
Germany paused in surprise before putting the box to the sidle the bent down and picked up the item of interest. It was an old push broom the size specially built for a child. But why would he…?
Germany jerked and grabbed his head.
'Holy Rome, Holy Rome!'
Holy Rome? Who was-?
'Holy Rome! How are you?'
The image came. It was a girl, a maid with copper hair and a boy, a little soldier with blonde hair and blue eyes.
'I'm fine, thank you for asking.'
Holy Rome. He was Holy Rome, but that girl…?
'Holy Tome?'
'Holy Rome!'
'I love you Holy Rome!'
'I love you too, Italy.'
Italy…
The blonde and copper kiss and then part.
'Here! Take my broom; you'll remember me and it'll give you the will so you can return it to me,' Italy said.
Holy Rome smiled and took the push broom into his hands tenderly. 'I promise to return it to you Italy,' he replied and turned.
'Good bye Holy Rome! I love you!'
Germany gasped and fell back; conveniently landing on a chair. Germany held his head panting. Italy… he needed Italy! He loved Italy!
"Doitsu? Are you up here?"
Germany turned and stifled a gasp as he finally realized how beautiful Italy was. Italy smiled and pulled Germany to his feet.
"Ve~ Come on Doitsu, before the pasta gets cold," he said and then noticed something; the push broom.
"Germany, where did you get that?" Italy asked, bad memories of heartbreak surfacing at the site of the broom.
Italy's answer was a kiss. Italy gasped and was going to remain loyal to his true love when then he felt it. The familiar warmth and love. Italy pulled back in shock.
"H-Holy Rome," he whispered broken.
Germany smiled sheepishly before holding up the broom. "I kept my promise," he said, kind of lamely.
Italy threw the broom away and then tackled Germany to the floor with love and kisses.
His Italy.
His Holy Rome.
Together Again.
