The ceiling began to sway like a dark ocean above Germany as he lay on his bed, staring at it for God knows how long. Perhaps it was his mind that was beginning to sway.

Germany couldn't sleep, and not because of France, but because of a young Italian he had known for a while now. He was thinking of their past, since the time he met her during World War One, finding her hiding in a tomato crate. He remembered her popping out and screaming, half in German and half in Italian, begging him not to shoot her. Germany had hit her with the handle of his gun, suspecting deception, but the only deception was unintentional on her behalf. Germany had thought Italy not only to be a liar ready to trap him, but a boy. Germany had mistaken Italy for a boy when they first met, and for a while after. Italy had had her hair pinned back under a hat, making it look short, and she wore clothes that didn't promote her real figure. If he had known she was a girl from the start, Germany probably wouldn't have hit her like that, and he would have been more… gentle with her. Of course, even after learning of her true gender, Germany still got her in headlocks and kicked her out of his house all the way to Luxembourg, but by then he had been used to her and it seemed she wasn't one of those girls who particularly knew about the boundaries of the genders. She didn't seem to care that Germany was a man, and she was a woman.

Germany remembered the time Italy, Japan and he got stranded on an island, and how she simply stripped down to a bikini and pranced about without a second thought that there were two men with her. She even suggested they strip down like her, too. Germany had thought her nothing more than a naïve young girl who lived constantly on Cloud Nine.

He remembered her having a nightmare and fearing that Germany would forget about her. How she was nearly in tears at this thought and nervously left a letter for him to read. The Pact of Steel that they formed. Germany remembered feeling extremely nervous about this, he remembered the fluttering feeling accumulating in his stomach.

He remembered reassuring her that he cared for her. By saying I love you in his native language. Italy was overjoyed, and hugged him, saying that she knew he couldn't possibly hate her. She didn't seem too concerned by the fact that Germany had said something so precious to her. That had hurt him a little. A pang of sadness echoed through him even now.

His mind then flashed to that disastrous date the pair of them endured. Germany saw Italy's face - Italy's confused and horrified face - as he thrust the engagement ring in front of her, nearly suffocating her in the process of trying to wipe the tears from her face, and nearly crushing her with a hug.

Germany had to suppress a groan of embarrassment. It had been months since that date, and he still felt the embarrassment and guilt constrict his insides, threatening to let him explode. His face still reddened as the date ran through his mind. Italy never seemed to mention it or think about it, though. She acted as if it never happened. He envied her ability to do so.

He turned on his side, hoping the thoughts would wash away. What he saw didn't help him forget. The Italian girl in his recent thoughts was lying right beside him, mouth opened slightly and emitting a soft snore. Germany's face reddened.

Italy shuffled slightly. She inched closer to the German, and he felt her hot breath roll over his skin. Germany inhaled, and rolled on to his back again. Her breath now caressed his left shoulder.

'Italy,' he sighed. 'You're such a strange creature.'

A girl who would so readily jump into the bed of a man she wasn't dating. Germany's head ached. Girls like this couldn't possibly exist. She just… didn't seem to understand.

It was not only the fact that she climbed into his bed unnoticed that got to him, it was the fact that most of the time she did it, she was naked. Germany would wake up with this young, slim, beautiful naked girl lying beside him, and the same emotions with the same intensity would flare up every morning. Embarrassment, denial, confusion, and something else he originally couldn't identify.

Not only that, but she would strip for a siesta in the afternoons, and Germany had on countless occasions given her his shirts for her to wear when she woke up (she always abandoned her clothes somewhere and couldn't find them afterwards).

She was such… a strange girl.

And after spending so much time with her, and getting to know her. Getting used to her ways and her strange tendencies… Even the emotionally inexperienced Germany couldn't deny that he had gained romantic feelings for her.

The morning sunshine stabbed at Germany's closed eyes. He opened them and shielded them with his hand.

'Morning already?' he hissed.

His night hadn't exactly been filled with sleep and peaceful dreams, not when he was regretting all the times he had made an ass of himself in front of Italy. He groaned and sat up, rubbing the sleep-begging eyes. He had training with Japan and Italy this morning, and he couldn't afford to sleep in.

'Germany…?'

A soft sound from beside him caused his head to jolt to the side. Italy was sitting up on her side, gazing at Germany through eyes still clouded with sleep. She yawned and sat up straight, the sheets falling down her body, revealing it.

Of course, she was naked.

Almost simultaneously, the blood drained from Germany's face and flowed back to flush it. He jumped backwards out of the bed.

'Italy! For God's sake! How many times have I told you? If you're going to crawl into bed next to me, at least put some clothes on!' Germany shouted, his face twisting into an expression of mixed disgust and embarrassment.

Italy looked down to examine her naked body, the sheets pooled at her waist, covering her lower region from the German.

'Ve,' she squeaked. Pulling the covers up, but not with any haste. It was just to obey Germany. She shot her head up and jumped out of bed with the sheets wrapped around her body. 'Is it breakfast time, Germany? Are we gonna have pasta today? Ve ~ Germany?'

Germany was simply staring at the sheets around her body. They hugged her figure, revealing its shape so beautifully. Better that her clothes could. Those masculine clothes.

'Ve? Germany?'

'Ah! Italy! Get dressed! You don't get pasta until after training! That's how it always is!' he said, turning from her and pulling his training from over the chair. His face burning. He pulled it on and sleeked back his hair. He heard her shuffle behind him. 'Italy, get dressed and meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes!'

He grabbed his training pants from the chair as well and walked out of the room to the bathroom, hearing Italy's disappointed 'Ve's.

Even a splash of cold water couldn't ease the fire dancing on Germany's cheeks.

'That… strange girl…' he choked.