Please enjoy this fanfiction! Which I made especially for all you GerIta fangirls! Please note however, that this second chapter may take a while. I might not even write it if no one likes this first chapter. But please, do enjoy!
- Oresama
Feliciano Vargas rubbed his arm where the bruise was hidden beneath his thin t-shirt as he walked down the familiar path towards the market. He glanced up at the clear blue sky, remembering how his grandfather had always been so enthused to go to the market with him. But those days had been long gone now that Feliciano was an adult. The Italian had tried to push away those sweet memories because they forced him to recall things that could never happen again.
Grandpa Rome had left the Vargas home nearly a year ago without any explanation or word of when he would return. Feliciano had been left in the care of his elder brother, Lovino Vargas. But Lovino was constantly out with his boyfriend, Antonio and hardly spent any time at home. Thus, Feliciano found himself constantly lonely and depressed. The olden days haunted him like ghosts and on the occasional stormy night, he hallucinated about his grandfather.
The ginger-haired Italian's brown eyes fell upon that of the lone tomato stand, where a crippled old man stood shouting some gibberish in a language that was any but Italian.
"Ein Berliner und Ein Italienisch Junge! Sie wollen treffen! Am Ein Imbiss . . .? Ja! Ein Imbiss . . . Die Junge wollen treffen da! Ja!" Shouted the old man, as he closed and re-opened his sightless gray eyes.
Feliciano felt sorry for the poor man. He seemed so delusional, and everyone in the market seemed to think so, as none approached him to ask for a tomato. But this friendly Italian was about to change that, Feliciano decided. He marched up to the old man and gave him a small smile.
"May I purchase a tomato?" Asked he, fiddling in the pockets of his pizzeria apron for some spare Euros.
The old man was silenced by Feliciano's voice and he moved forward, reaching his hand cautiously over the counter of his small tomato stand. Little Feliciano was so surprised that he didn't immediately react when the cripple's callused fingers brushed over his cheek. But in a moment, Feli had recovered and took a step back.
"E-Excuse me- " Feliciano began, but was interrupted by the old man's voice which was barely more than a whisper.
"You are the Italian boy from my dream," the old man said.
Feliciano blushed, "I-I didn't know that people had dreams about me! Was I cute? What happened? Did we eat pasta? I love pasta! So, when you had this dream-"
Once again, the old hermit-like man interrupted and with a few strokes of his long, blonde braid of hair, continued: "I am the prophet, Germania from Germany. I came because of my prophetic dream of the romance flower blooming between a German man and an Italian. You are the Italian from my dream, and I must tell you, you will soon meet the German whom you will fall in love with."
Feliciano blinked and then smiled at the prophet, "Fall in love with a German man? Me? Why, I only flirt with the Italian ladies, never a German man! I don't think that could possibly happen."
Germania's eyes widened and they seemed to become clearer and he shook his head, "I-I'm sorry about that, young man. Sometimes I mumble some strange gibberish. Would you like a tomato?"
Feliciano blinked several times; he was having an awfully hard time comprehending what was happening.
"Y-Yes I'd like a tomato. But what was all that you were saying about me falling in love? And about your prophetic dream?" The Italian was feeling rather riled up from Germania's strange words and now that the man seemed to have a bit more sense, Feliciano found that he wanted answers.
Quickly.
Germania was shaking his head and sighed as he took a few tomatoes from his crate and placed them into Feliciano's hands, "I honestly don't remember saying anything of the sort. But as I said, I tend to ramble on and then have no memory of it. I apologize for any inconveniences."
Feliciano gave Germania a half-smile, but it was lacking.
"Well thank you for the tomatoes, sir," he continued to run his hands around in his pockets, probing for change.
"Oh they're free for you to pay you for all the trouble I've caused you," said the blonde man, smiling kindly.
Feliciano was speechless with shock from the old man's kindness.
"I- I couldn't possibly do that to you, sir! There must be some other way that I can repay you!"
Germania smiled again and pointed behind the small Italian, "You've paid me enough, as you have brought me some customers. Be on your way now, Italienisch Junge."
Feliciano's brown eyes were wide with disbelief at the name; it had been the same thing that Germania had said when he was possessed by the prophet. But the Italian nodded all the same and with a gracious smile, waved and ran for his home.
Once Feliciano was far away from the market and the surrounding village, he hurried home and dropped off his collection of tomatoes, not even waiting around for Lovino to show his face. The younger Italian brother had too much on his mind for that; he had a German lover waiting for him somewhere! Feli hurried from the empty, loneliness that made up his home and then realized he had no idea where he was going. Finally, he just leaned the nearest tree to catch his breath and think.
"I have no idea where to go to search for my alleged romantic interest, and since he's German, he's probably in Germany."
The Italian sighed, "And I've never been there . . . but I'm sure that they don't have any pasta."
He shook his head and shoved his hands in his apron pockets, "It's a waste of time to go anyway. There are probably way more Germans than Italians, and my lover isn't just going to come waltzing right up."
For the first time in his life, Feliciano Vargas was sick of love. He'd been told he'd find his lover and at the time, it'd sounded so easy, but now he saw that it would not be so.
But the Italian would not give up! So with a deep inhale of his Italian air, he crossed the bored into what he knew, to be Germany.
I hope you all enjoyed! R&R! Grazie!