Thanks everybody! I really hope you like my story. I pledge right now to follow through with it, so keep me to it! I haven't gotten any harmful "criticism" yet so I'm quite happy. I apologize in advance for any historical atrocities I may have written, but it's fiction. In short, just like the real Hetalia (which I do not own btw.) It's not going to be completely accurate if at all. Just sayin'. You all seem like a good natured crowd though. Just a head's up: I'll be using Italy's POV sometimes. So thanks for reading! ~November

Germany was ripped from his thoughts when he heard some nervous laughing from somewhere back in the kitchen. He also heard some yelling and cursing. Oh, god no. There was no doubt about it, Romano was back from wherever. This was bad...

"What are you hiding?! It better not be another damn German. I'LL SLICE HIM APART AND TURN HIM INTO F*CKING TOMATO SAUCE!"

Surprisingly, Italy had a better poker face than Germany thought he would have.

"I'm not hiding any-a-thing fratello! ~Ve Just a setting the table.", He said grabbing some forks.

"Yeah right! Where the fuck is whatever or whoever it is?"

"I'm just a setting the table, ok? This plate e mia and that one is yours, see?"

"Fine, but I'm going to help.", Romano smiled evilly as he said this. He knew his brother all to well, and for Ita-chan to be able to keep such a straight face, whatever he was hiding must be important.

"Ve~ Why don't you a go get some mint from the garden then?"

"Ok." Romano sulked to the door leading to the backyard, just by the refrigerator. He had won this round, if he was hiding anything at all.

At this point Italy ran into the dining room as if he were being chased by the English. He grabbed the still dazed Germany and ran upstairs. He put him in the guest room. It was a beautiful room. The wall was painted a sea-foam green and had a nice view from a window with cream-colored curtains and a small porch. In the corner there was a small closet and a single bed with a light green cover. The room was very nicely decorated as well. But Germany had no time to appreciate any of this, at least not yet. He listened to the babbling Italian in front of him as if he would have to take a test on everything he just said, and if he failed that test he would die. It may have seemed dramatic for him to think of it that way but, it seemed important to Italy that he listened now, so he would...

"Germany, stay in this room until I get back. Romano's a FURIOUS!"

"I can tell. No problem, I vill vait for you here..."

The German sighed as Italy rushed down the stairs. Romano was always angry at him. There was no doubt that the angry brother of his sweet Italy really would turn him into tomato sauce if he caught him here. But for once Romano had a good reason to be angry at him. This just made the German more concerned and guilty. He was really tired after all this to be truthful. He was just glad he could be around the charming Italian he had become so attached to. The room was quiet, and he felt himself drifting off in the peaceful atmosphere the room provided. He was very tired after having worked overtime the last few days, barely finding the time to rest. The time change had taken it's affect as well. He had only been sitting there about 40 minutes before he heard some more yelling and a door slamming. Maybe Romano left? He could only hope. But he did need to offer an apology to him too as much as he hated to admit it. He heard someone, slowly coming up the stairs, but was too exhausted to even think of hiding. He just lay there, assuming that it would be better to rest in case he had to tussle with Romano, even just a little, before he could get him to listen to his apology. Although, it probably meant nothing to the constantly enraged Italian. Ahh.. it was so quiet here...

Italy's POV:

He cracked open the door, only ever so slightly, to find the buff German sleeping soundly. He was getting some of his old curious self back. He chuckled slightly. He would never have expected to find the German with his guard down in the home of someone who, had anyone else done what he had to anyone else but Italy, find himself in possible danger. Even through all of the emotions that threatened to separate him from Germany, he had still showed only love in his heart for him. He walked over to the sleeping German. How cute, his eyebrows weren't furrowed like Italy had remembered seeing them while watching the German sleep long before. (Sounds stalkerish, right?) Italy giggled. Ah, how he grieved what he considered the loss of his friend. To go right along with it he and his brother had also lost many people. For now he just wanted to enjoy this, the present. After having waited so long ,and knowing he would live even longer, it was comforting to have the person he loved be so close. He looked down at the German's rare face of peacefulness. He knew he could smile for a long time just remembering that face. He pulled back the curtains to let some moonlight in. It was dark now. He walked silently out of the room and called up Romano. Thank God he had left.

"Fratello?", Italy inquired.

"What do you want?", Romano snapped, almost instantly.

"I'm sorry. You should come back home..."

"Why? So I can watch you cuddle that stupid potato bastard?! No thanks! I'm going to see Spain. Call me back when you've gotten rid of him and realize that he can never make up for his betrayal!"

"..."

His brother had hung up on him. Italy was a bit hurt in truth but it was going to be all right. He needed to fight for himself and Germany now, even if Germany had betrayed him. He quickly changed into his usual pajamas, the pink tank top and black boxers. He walked back into the guestroom, shutting the door lightly behind him. He then carefully crawled into bed, snuggling in next to Germany.

"I missed you.", the cute little Italian whispered, giving him a light peck on the cheek.