A/N: Since I'm sick and have nothing to do OTL Might as well update.

This is GERITA, all right?

Please no flaming or hate for the pairings.

If you don't like the pairings, then please.

G.T.F.O.

Even if some pairings I don't like, I make a drabble of them for it to be fair.

If you no rikey, be my guest and get out.

Kay? Kay.

"SORRY NA" is a song sung by a Filipino band, "Parokya ni Edgar".

ANYTHING ELSE STILL ISN'T MINE EXCEPT THE ALTERATION OF THE PLOT.

P.S. I'm not very sure about the words "basta" and "amore" since I only used google translate ((because I'm hopeless in foreign languages like that (except for English and Mandarin))).

OF BRATWURST AND PASTA

Song: Sorry Na - Parokya Ni Edgar

Feliciano Vargas' body shook as he wailed, pushing mountains of furniture against the door as a certain German pounded after him.

"Feli! W-wait!" Ludwig knocked on the door again, his fists stinging as they rebounded on the door. He hiccupped, the beer not really making his mind any clearer, nor the situation any better. But he kept his drunkenness at bay.

"I didn't mean to yell – "

"Basta!" the shrill voice of the terrified Italian rang across the door, and sniffles followed. "Enough, Ludwig! I-I've had enough!"

"Feli – "

"No! You have to listen!" Feliciano went silent for a few minutes, then his voice could be heard again, wavering only for a bit. "Ludwig… Doitsu… I don't really know… do you even love me?... Every night you get drunk in a nearby bar with your brother, Gilbert, and I respect that, but…" He started crying softly. "Whenever you get back, no matter how late it is, no matter how early I should wake up the following morning… I wait for you by the porch until you came home. Even if it made you angry, I always cook you pasta and ready a handful of aspirins for tomorrow morning. And what do I get in return?" His voice raised into a strangled shout. "You come home and abuse me! Maybe not physically, but you abuse my feelings, Doitsu! I don't know this Doitsu… I want the old Doitsu back…"

Ludwig slid down on the floor and sat there for fifteen minutes, listening to the sobs of his beloved. Afterwards, he sighed. "It's my turn then," he answered, "So please listen. I'm.. I'm sorry if you got upset… I didn't mean to yell at you… Never did I want to upset you. Maybe it was because of my already short temper even shortened by alcohol." He shook his head. "Still, Feli. I can never atone for what I've done. Please, forgive me…"

There was a barricade of wooden silence between them, and Ludwig suddenly cried out.

"Please, don't leave me, Feliciano… I'm sorry. I can't possibly say anything more, but… I'm sorry. I truly am. I love you." He whispered through the cracks in the door. "I love you so much. Please, don't leave me alone. Don't disappear. You're my life. Don't… d-don't…" The German's composure broke and he started to plead incoherently as tears raced down his cheeks. After a bit, Ludwig had slumped back on the wall and had fallen asleep from physical and emotional exhaustion.

The next day, Ludwig woke up to a warm bed, his head heavy with a pounding headache. His blue eyes narrowed in pain and he stretched out an arm for the sleeping figure of his lover, but found only a note on his place. It read:

Dear Doitsu,

Just went out for some ingredients. We'll have pasta and bratwurst for dinner tonight! Ve~

Oh! And you can find some aspirins on the table. 3

Love, Feli

P.S. Happy anniversary, amore 3

The moment Feliciano Vargas reentered the house, arms full of shopping bags, Ludwig swept him into a kiss and murmured, "Ich liebe dich" into the Italian's ear. He smiled approvingly when he went through the bags and found no bottles of beer or even wine.

"I hope you don't mind," Feli muttered nervously, playing with his fingers nervously.

"I don't," He assured him, snaking an arm around the the Italian's waist and kissing him on the forehead. "Now, let's prepare a feast!"

"Veeee!~"