Predictable
Days with Italy were nothing if not predictable.
He was simply too simple in general to ever change his habits too much from one day to the next. Anyone who knew the carefree, bubble-headed Italian could and would tell you that no problem. Germany definitely could, if she could be bothered to answer a random stranger's stupid questions.
She shook her head in exasperation as she contemplated her completely average day. As usual, she had been woken up at 6:00 sharp by her internal clock to find her usual nighttime visitor curled up on the side of her bed that he'd claimed for himself whenever he got scared and managed to escape Switzerland's wrath towards anyone and everything.
She'd kicked him out so she could shower, get dressed, and proceed on with her normal routine. After a quick breakfast, with Italy moaning and groaning the whole time about how it was too early to be awake, she then dragged him out into her massive backyard and forced him to start "running" laps until he collapsed at about 12 o'clock.
Lunch had been normal. As always, the Italian had brought pasta while the ever-quiet Japan ate his over salted food and refrained from speaking. The only thing even slightly notable was Germouser showing up with, true to her name, a dead mouse for Germany. The carcass had caused Italy to run into Switzerland's territory, which ended with Germany giving him the silent treatment until he left at 3.
She had been doing paperwork from then until a half hour ago, when she'd been forced to stop by her brother's stupid drunk antics. Well, more correctly, his stupid drunk antics from last night- she'd left him in the police station to stew overnight and the officers seemed to have felt more punished by this than the albino ex-nation.
Now it was 9:58- well, 9:59- and she was too tired to care about her paperwork or the fact that her hair was getting long again. She'd hack it off tomorrow when she could bring herself to care. No, she was going to sleep now, before it got too late and she became irritable in the morning.
As she closed her eyes, she felt a slight dip on the other side of the bed, and she almost sighed to herself. Yes, just an average day. She'd wake up to another average day tomorrow, and another after that, and still another after that.
Days with Italy were nothing if not-
She jumped slightly as a pair of arms curled around her waist, pulling her against someone's tank top-covered chest. This was strange, as the Italian had refrained from hugging her while they slept after the last time he'd tried during WWII and she'd punched him. Of course, that had mostly been because she was terrified of him figuring out she was actually a woman(she'd had some help from England disguising herself as a man with magic, but that could only go so far), but he hadn't attempted to hug her in her sleep since and she hadn't asked him to.
She somehow ended up facing him, her eyes level with his shoulder while his face burrowed into her short (for a girl) blond hair. She looked up at him slightly, but his eyes were closed and he seemed to be sleeping. Shrugging it off as a subconscious impulse (God knows he was clingy as Hell when he was awake), she attempted to shift away slightly before the arms tightened; holding her to the sleeping brunette's torso as he tiredly mumbled something in Italian. Sighing, she resigned herself to her trapped state and closed her eyes, hoping that he'd let go at some point during the night so she could escape.
A few minutes later, the 'sleeping' male country grinned at the quietly snoring German woman. She really was cute when she was sleeping- not that she wasn't cute when she was awake, especially when she was smiling at him, or looking worried, and she got that adorable little crease between her eyebrows that made him want to kiss he-
He blushed slightly at his thoughts. Germany did not appreciate being called cute. At all. Ever. He had received many glares and bruises over the years to prove it, but he couldn't help himself whenever she was ranting about whatever Prussia had done last night, and her eyes got that passionate glow while her light pink, soft looking lips moved rapidly and she expressed how irritated she was by talking with her hands- he couldn't help but imagine how it would feel if that passion was for him, how those lips would feel against his while those hands fisted in his hair-
She thought he wasn't paying attention to what she was saying, and he almost never was, but the problem wasn't him being an airhead. His problem is that he paid too much attention to the rest of her when he probably should be paying attention to, say, where he was going, or her telling him to do something for the thirtieth time. He was predictable mostly because half the time, his mind was contemplating her little quirks and the rest of him was on autopilot. Except, of course, for training and most of his more cowardly moments- that was just Italian instinct. Romano- Romana- acted the same way.
He allowed a hand to trail through her soft, silky hair. She sighed softly in her sleep, and she buried her face in his shoulder, slowly resuming her quiet snoring. He kissed the top of her head lightly, shivering softly as her lips pressed against the bend of his shoulder.
"Ti amo, Doitsu," He murmurs, wishing he had the guts to tell her how he felt about her when they were both conscious. His amber eyes drifted closed, and within seconds he was snoring right along with her.
Seconds after he was asleep, Germany grinned in her sleep, the Italian's gentle words filtering through her subconscious and into her dreams. "Ich liebe dich auch, Italia."
In the morning, Germany would blush and stutter excuses when Prussia burst into her room, and Italy would be too focused on how adorable that shade of red was to be embarrassed.
Days with Germany and Italy were nothing if not predictable.
Bumblekat: Weird, choppy ending that I hate, but I changed it about twenty times before getting it here, and I have no desire to keep going. Quick little one shot as an attempt to get my creative juices flowing for STWTRD and Hairy Pawter… Those will be up soon, as well as a prequel to this- a multi-chaptered, secret genderbend story with some of the details mentioned here already. I don't own Hetalia, or more characters would be independent, tomboy-ish girls. Review if you want, any feedback is welcome! But please tell me why if you don't like this, don't just say 'I don't like it' and move on. I can't bring myself to care about flamers or their fire, so screw flamers, I'm not listening.
Peace, love, and Michael Crichton,
Bumblekat
