A/N: hey people!
I finally wrote another GerIta story. I really missed this pairing. Wonder why I forgot about it.
Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Italy simply stared at Germany in the rapidly fading moonlight. It was a worm summer night, or rather morning since the sun was starting to rise, so he wasn't wearing a shirt to bed, just boxers.
Italy reached out and gently slid his fingers over Germany's skin. He lightly traced Germany's lips.
He was sleeping on his stomach and he looked peaceful. A stressful week has gone by thankfully and with it a weekend where Germany can relax alongside Italy.
Their covers were on his lower back showing the bare skin.
And all the scars.
Germany's body was covered in scars he realized. On the front of him and the back. Even the sides.
How many wars has he been in that he is nearly completely covered in scars?
He didn't ask until night came. When they had went back to bed.
"Germany?" he asked quietly.
"Yes?"
Italy reached out and gently brushed his hand against Germany's skin.
"Can you tell me from where did you get these scars?"
Germany started slightly in surprise. "Do…do they bother you?"
Italy quickly shook his head. "No, no! I'm just curious."
He then pulled off Germany's shirt. His eyes caught his scar on his shoulder.
"Like this one." he said touching it lightly. "Where did you get this one?"
Germany glanced at it. "That's from a training actually. I didn't block properly and the sword went through."
"By who?"
"Prussia."
When he saw Italy's surprised look Germany quickly said "It was an accident. He couldn't stop apologizing for weeks after it."
Italy then looked at a different one. This one was a thin line across his collarbone. "This one?"
"American Revolutionary War."
Italy blinked in surprise. "You were there?"
"Partly. I met Alfred there for the first time."
A jagged one on his side. "This one?"
"Franco-Prussian War. France."
"He did it to you?"
"Mm hmm. Happily I think too, from the way he had grinned at me."
There was another on the right side.
"That one?"
"It's from World War one."
One on his hip.
"This one?"
"My so-called Revolution in 1918."
One a few inches away from his heart.
"This one?"
"World War two."
One directly over his heart.
"This one?"
"It's not from a war. The day the Berlin Wall was put up."
Finally the one he had noticed first of and the most. The one in the middle of his back.
He lightly traced it noting how Germany closed his eyes and shivered slightly.
"What about this one?"
"…I don't know."
Italy looked at him. "What?"
"I don't know." he repeated.
Italy looked at the scar again carefully. Then he crossed to Germany's front and looked carefully at his stomach.
There was another scar in the center of his stomach in perfect alignment with the one on his back.
He looked again on the one on his back.
It would've been a simple wound, entering from the stomach and even going out from the back, but whoever had done it wanted to ensure more pain. They had jerked it to the side.
"Whoever did this one." Italy said quietly. "Wanted you to be in a lot of pain."
Germany shrugged. "It must've worked then, I don't even remember how I got it."
"At all?"
"At all."
Surprising both himself and Germany Italy leaned in and gently kissed the scar. He then sat up and hugged Germany tightly.
"What's this for?" Germany asked bemused.
"Just…for no real reason." Italy said quietly.
Unfortunately since there is less then a thousand words here I consider this a drabble and I am putting it where the drabbles go.
I hope you guys understood the real meaning of that last scar. If not, tell me and I'll explain.
Hope you guys enjoyed this.
Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.
Until next time.
This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.