Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia

There's a little bit of PruHun and Spamano in this, but it's mainly GerIta and Germany/Romano bonding, though not as a pairing.

I am fed up with Feliciano Vargas. Really and truly done.

First of all, why is he so into me, anyway? I never say anything. I never show affection. I support testing on animals. Seriously, somebody tell me why he insists on hanging around me all the time.

Gilbert says it's love. Only he says, "It's Luuuuuuhv." Just like that. As if he knows anything about love. He's obviously attracted to that Hungarian girl, but because he can't admit it, consistently torments the poor girl in a way of punishing himself! But Feliciano is not in love with me!

Do you want to know what my life is like? Do you? Really? Well, hold onto your seats, folks, because it's the most annoying life ever. I wouldn't even wish this existence on Francis.

So I wake up to find Feliciano in my bed! Gilbert insists he doesn't let him in, but then how the hell does that pathetic excuse for a sperm-producing human organism get in?

I ask him if his parents know where his is. He replies, "Ve~ no, they-a don't, but they won't mind-a!"

And what is that little thing that he says, anyway? "Ve~"? What the hell is that?

So then I go to school with the guy, where he bounces over to his brother, who gets enjoyment out of insulting me like it's a weird sexual kink or something! I have every class with the both of them! The administration must be out to get me or something.

Then after school, he follows me home. He's such a stalker. I don't even know how Feliciano's not in prison already. Gilbert fully supports our relationship, so he pushes Feliciano into me all the time! Feliciano falls onto my chest, and his big, pretty eyes look up at me and he says stuff like, "Ve~ Luddy! You-a caught me! Mio salvatore!"

Not to mention the stupid nickname he gave me.

The worst part is that he makes me emotional. I'm never emotional!

And his eyes aren't pretty.

ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~ve~

Feliciano isn't in my bed when I wake up this morning. It's both wonderful and worrying, but I figure his parents found out about him sneaking away at night and locked him in his room.

I walk downstairs, where Gilbert is making hashbrowns. "Guten Morgen, Bruder, Feli."

"Actually, just me," I say.

He spins around. "Where's Feliciano?"

I shrug. "I don't know. I'm just happy to wake up alone."

Gilbert gets this familiar look in his eyes and says slyly, "Are you sure. Because yesterday you sure seemed to be in a hurry to catch him before he fell."

"You mean I was standing there when you pushed him into me."

Gilbert looks hurt, but I know it's all for show. "How could you accuse me of something like that?"

"Shut up, Dummkopf."

This feels unnatural. Strange, considering this is what I did every morning before I met Feliciano. I was struck with a terrifying realization. He's become such a fixture in my life it's almost as is he belongs in my life.

So, for the first time in what seems like years, I walk to school with my brother alone.

I instantly become suspicious when, arriving at school, I am not accosted by an excitable Italian.

Feliciano's brother, Lovino, runs up to me and shouts, "Hey Potato Bastard! What did you do with my fratello?"

"Isn't he with you?" I ask, momentary panic seizing me. Feli can't survive on his own! Then I remember that I don't care.

"You kidding?" Lovino sneers. Then he looks down at the ground, scuffs his sneaker on the blacktop. He speaks again, and while the roughness of his voice is still there, the volume is much lower. "He's never with me anymore. He's always with you."

"Well believe me, I didn't ask for it."

Within half a second Lovino's at my throat, scrabbling with his short nails and scratching me. Gilbert, who'd been watching, more amused than concerned, springs into action and pulls him off of me.

"That's enough, Lovino," Gilbert says, but Lovino's still focused on me.

"Are you saying Feli's not good enough? Huh? 'Cuz if you are, I swear to fucking God that I will rip your balls off!"

I am spared answering by Elizabeta, the Hungarian girl, running up to us. "Lovino! Ludwig! …Gilbert? Whatever. I got this voice mail from Feliciano! Have you seen him?"

"No," I answer.

She gets a scared look in her eyes. "You'd better listen to this."

We all lean in to here Feliciano's voice come out of her phone, but it's almost unrecognizable as his. There's no happiness in it. Only devastation.

"Eliza. It's me, Feliciano. I don't–I don't know what to do. I never feel like this. I was about to leave for Luddy's house when I realized he didn't want me there. He doesn't want me there and Lovi doesn't want me here. Where should I go? Please. Why won't you pick up the phone?"

The phone clicks and Feli is gone. Lovino and I stare at each other. This is our fault. Feli said as much in the message.

"Where could he be?" Elizabeta asks, anxiety lacing her tone.

I think back to every conversation I've ever had with Feli. There must be something.

"Ve~ Luddy! Do you like pasta?"

"Does spätzle count?"

No. No. That's not right.

"Ve~ Luddy! I didn't know you-a had a kitty!"

"I don't."

"Can I-a name her, then?"

"What cat?"

"I'll-a name you Pookie."

"Get that thing out of here!"

Goddamnit. Where are you, Feli? Come back. I'm so sorry.

"Ve~ Luddy! You know what?"

"What?"

"There's this old house in the woods. It's all crumbly and stuff, but it reminds me of the houses back in Italia! I like to go there all the time! Maybe you could come with me sometime?"

There!

"He's at a house in the woods. He said he liked it there because it reminded him of the houses in Italy."

"I know that place," Lovino says. "I go there too, when I'm homesick." He mumbles the last part, as if he's ashamed.

"Let's go!" I say, and then we all proceeded to cut school. But Feli is more important.

We're walking through the woods, Lovino leading the way. He takes no care with stray branches, impatiently shoving them out of his way. He looks more purposeful than I've ever seen anyone.

"Feli," Elizabeta sighs quietly as we walk. "He was always such a sweet guy."

"Yeah," Gilbert agrees. "I kinda like him around, you know? He puts up with me in a way no one ever does."

It's quiet for a while longer. Lovino and I have heavier things to say, and neither of us is quite willing.

Finally I say, "He bothered me to know end. But he's nice. And he likes me. And that matters, I guess." I can't say more, not because I'm choking up or anything, but because I don't know how to verbalize the thoughts and feelings swirling around in my head.

Lovino doesn't speak for another couple of minutes, and when he does, it's barely a whisper. "Everyone always liked him more than me. I resented that. The only one who seemed to like me more than Feli was Feli himself. When we were children, we were inseparable. And then you showed up."

He doesn't put a name to 'you,' but I know he means me.

"Then all of a second he was always with you. We share a room, you know that? I used to wake up to Feli saying, 'Pasta' in his sleep. Then one day he went home with you after school, and he wasn't back when I went to bed. And when I woke up, expecting to hear 'Pasta, pasta,' I got an alarm clock.

"I was hurt and angry that all of a sudden, there was this other guy in the picture, one he liked more than me. And nobody liked me best anymore."

Lovino doesn't turn around the entire time he's speaking, but there are tears in Elizabeta's eyes and she and Gilbert are holding hands.

I clear my throat. "Er…maybe people don't like you because they don't know you very well. I'm sure you're a great guy. You just need to open up a little, I guess."

Then Lovino does turn to face us, a disjointed smile on his face. "That's rich, coming from you."

"Besides," Gilbert adds, "you could totally use that speech you just gave to score girls. Look, Eliza's crying."

"Shut up," sniffles the girl in question.

"Whatever," Lovino says dismissively. "We're here."

We all see Feli immediately. He's leaning up beside the house, maybe sleeping, maybe just with his eyes closed, maybe dead. But that's rather unlikely.

"Feliciano?" I fall to my knees next to him. He blinks those pretty eyes open.

"Luddy?"

"It's me. Lovino and Elizabeta and Gilbert are here too."

"You guys don't like me. Nobody likes me."

Lovino reaches down and slaps his brother. Feliciano looks up at him in shock. "Lovi?"

"Don't say things like that!" Lovino shouts. "Everyone likes you! Sometimes they just have a pretty fucking screwy way of showing you, you weak-ass!"

A smile spreads across Feli's face. "You're right, Fratello! I'm so stupid!"

"Yes you are," Lovino retorts.

"Feliciano…" I say. "Ich liebe dich nicht, aber ich denke ich konnte."

"Feliciano looks confused for a moment, but then he grins and exclaims, "I don't know what that means, but O.K!"

So we all go back to school. Lovino calls me Potato Bastard six times. We are marked down as late, and sent to class.

And at lunch, I see Gilbert and Elizabeta talking. They aren't touching, but as Gilbert would say, "It's luuuuuhv."

Lovino is sitting in a corner, but unlike usual, he's not alone. A guy with brown hair and green eyes is sitting with him, poking his cheek.

And Feli and I? We're back to where we were before…somewhat. He's still annoying, and he still "Ve~"s, but I've learned not to take him for granted. When I wake up with him spooning me, I just thank whatever superior being up there that he's not out in the woods by himself.

One more thing: Lovino seems to be under the impression that we're an item now or something, because he threatened to rip my balls off if I hurt Feliciano.

Yeah…this was meant as a straightforward GerIta, but Romano sneaked his way in there and made my story all about him. Oh, well. I nearly cried when writing Lovi's speech in the woods. Poor guy.

What Germany says to Italy means, "I don't love you, but I think I could."

If you're wondering why Feliciano starts off with an accent and loses it, and why Romano never has one, it's because I wanted to use the accent as an added annoyance for Germany, but the later part of the story is sad, so I felt it would have ruined the effect if Romano was just like, "Everyone-a likes-a Feli-a better-a than-a me-a."

Thanks for reading! Review please!