Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.
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Minimal fluff 09!
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Of Seamen and Landlubbers 11
He had done it! He, wonderful and spectacular Admiral America, had finally infiltrated the dastardly pirate's base! All by himself! Some had doubted his ability, saying he was a newbie so he couldn't possibly do as great things as those seasoned veterans before him!
And using his powerful deductive skills, he had figured out that England had something hidden in those boxes of him that was probably not legal!
Alright, he hadn't done much, but he had gotten this case farther. He had figured out where England was hiding. They were in relative distance to each other. He could use this…right?
"Mister America?" America was jolted out of his thoughts as the daughter of the couple's house he was staying at shook his arm. He turned to her, a cheerful young girl with a wide smile and two dark pigtails tied up in bright ribbons.
"Oh, Seychelles, what's wrong?" America gave an equally dazzling smile, one of his many talents.
"Nothing. You just looked troubled. Is something wrong?"
What was he going to say? He hadn't told anyone he was an admiral for the Allies, in case any of them were spies for England. "Nothing. Nothing major, at least. I was thinking about ways I could catch someone, that's it."
Seychelles stared at him. "Catch someone? Like a police man?"
"Not exactly…"
Seychelles's eyes brightened. "Oh, so you mean like a lover?"
America flushed at her words. "No, nothing like that!" He could hardly think of England as a lover, no way! England was a pirate, someone he had to bring to justice. Yes, England was just another pretty pirate with bold, green eyes and a body that seemed to fit with his…shaking those thoughts out of his head, America focused on Seychelles, who was smiling amusedly. "Where would you get those kinds of thoughts?"
"Adults think kids just play around all day. They won't notice if we listen and they don't think we understand what they say. It's so clear you like someone, Mister America! Tell me!" Seychelles looked eager. "I'll help you get this girl!"
"It's not…" America gave up. It was kind of the same thing, right? He could still use the same techniques to put England off guard and peek at those elusive boxes of his and use that as evidence to arrest the pirate. "Alright, what would you say I do if this woman of mine," America said, feeling another intense blush overcome his face, "doesn't want anything to do with me and pushes me away when I do anything?"
Seychelles thought for a moment. "Hmm. Is she completely uninterested with you?"
England had kissed him back…yes, of this he was sure. He had definitely felt pressure back on his end when they kissed in the rain. "No. I'm pretty sure…but she can't show her feelings. Or she won't."
Seychelles frowned. "That is bad. Well…I think you should try and do something with her. Take her out for dinner or something. Or drinks. I think if she kind of likes you, she'll do things like that."
The image of having dinner with England was almost a comedic sight and America had to resist the urge to laugh. It would seem like he was scoffing Seychelles's ideas and she was helping him. Drinks seemed more appropriate. And anyway, alcohol was a useful stimulant…as in the intoxicated stimulant! As in England would be too occupied to know if he did anything! As if he went to look in the boxes! His head as he tried to turn his thoughts in one direction.
"Mister America? Are you okay? Your head hurt?"
"I'm just thinking."
Seychelles patted America's head. "I'm just curious," she said, "but I'd like to know what this pretty girl looks like." America looked up at her incredulously and she continued. "I mean, she must be beautiful or something for you to like her so much, right?"
"Liking someone doesn't mean it's all about looks," America said.
"Yes, but you seem…" Seychelles paused before rushing into saying bluntly, "You seem like the kind of person who would like someone based on looks."
Did he really come off as shallow? Smiling sheepishly, America ruffled the girl's hair. "I wouldn't like someone entirely based on looks. But I'll tell you anyway. She's got blonde hair, like me, and beautiful green eyes. She's got a great body, curves and everything…" He had felt almost feminine hips when he had held England. "She always says mean things to me but sometimes…" England looked so fragile in the rain. "Sometimes it's as if he's one of us…"
Seychelles cocked her head. "He? I thought you said it was a woman."
"Oh, right! Yes, she! Sorry, it was a slip of the mind."
Seychelles smiled mysteriously. "That's completely okay, Mister America. You can like whoever you like." Giggling as she dodged a playful punch aimed her way, she skipped over to the door. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go play with the other kids." Laughing, she darted off, leaving America to his thoughts again.
--
Was he dead…if he was dead, why was he lying in a bed in a slightly lighted room? Surely the underworld's ceiling would not be cracked? Greece shifted and realized he still had feeling as a pang of hunger fled through his stomach. You weren't supposed to be hungry when you were dead. Sitting up, he tried to piece back what happened to get him up to this point. Turkey had left him to drown in the ocean…looking out the window of the room, he saw a port city outside. That meant this was some sort of hotel.
Then he wasn't dead. He had been saved.
His attention shifted when there was a slight movement next to him. He was in a room with scant furniture, including one chair, a desk, and two beds. Two beds? Greece tried to peek over the covers of the other bed and saw a mess of black hair.
Ninjas are trained to be light sleepers, able to awaken at the slightest movement or sound. In a way, ninjas are never sleeping; merely, they are at rest. So Japan was quite aware when Greece slipped into the bed with him and started when he felt a pair of strong arms encircle his waist. "G-Greece-san, you're awake!"
Greece said nothing, opting to say nothing but nuzzle Japan's neck affectionately.
"A-are you hungry or anything? Maybe we should go somewhere…" Japan felt at a loss of words, his face heating up as he felt Greece's breath next to his ear.
"So it was you."
"Me?"
"Who saved me."
Japan cleared his throat. "Um…yes. I escaped from China's prison and I was asking around to see if anyone had seen you or that masked man. The last time anyone saw either of you, you were sailing off in some kind of confrontation. You were some miles off the coast of this city and the villagers said there was a sea battle going on since there were so many cannon sounds so I took a boat out to investigate and I found you."
"Thank you."
"It's the most I can do for someone who helped me!" Japan blabbered, feeling himself lose control of his mouth. Greece pulled Japan closer, flustering the ninja further.
"I'm tired," Greece murmured, yawning. His grip on Japan didn't slacken, despite his fatigue. Everything in his to do list had been finished: he had found Japan, escaped from Turkey's dictatorship. He could go back to his usual schedule.
"T-then I won't disturb you," Japan stammered, finding Greece's warmth to be a rather enjoyable.
"I'm glad I kissed you rather than Hermes," Greece said sleepily, before completely dozing off and leaving Japan to fret about who Hermes was before smiling to himself. It didn't matter; Greece had chosen him.
Sighing, Japan let himself be held as he stared up at the ceiling. This wasn't supposed to be happening. He was supposed to be stopping England and his crew and helping China recover. He couldn't afford to linger around feeling satisfied when there were bigger picture issues to address. But he supposed there was nothing he could do about it now…he didn't want to wake Greece again by leaving and besides, when it got down to it, he was feeling rather sleepy himself. He hadn't been sleeping for a while and he figured he owed it to himself…for only a while…
--
"So, like, let me get this straight." Poland was sitting cross-legged in a chair in his room, looking across the tea table at Lithuania, sitting meekly. "So, you quit Russia's clique and went to do your own things, say, and you totally found yourself at the Allies headquarters and used your skills to join the Allies?" When Lithuania nodded, Poland threw his hands up. "Totally radical, Liet! I, like, love your story! Why didn't you keep in contact with me, sweets? I could have, like, helped you!"
"Well, my point was to cut off all contact with this place and Russia would have definitely asked you if you talked to me."
"That's totally true." Poland paused in his celebration and leaned across the table with an expression of worry. "Russia was a wreck when you left. At first he got all violent, looking for you and totally blowing off at random people. Then…and this is totally scary…he quieted down. I'm totally not kidding, Liet. It was like the eye of a storm." Poland studied Lithuania's face. "I don't like this at all, Liet. I think you have to go. Russia'll get to ya again and I can't have that happening. Take everyone that came with you and just run."
"I can't. The captain's missing."
"Captain?"
"Yeah." Suddenly Lithuania's face lit up, surprising Poland. "Listen, you've been around! Have you seen someone like him? He's got blonde hair…he's sort of high maintenance and he's unmistakable."
Poland stared at him for a moment. "Well…I've heard of someone like that…but…you're not working for a pirate, are you?"
"Yes! I mean, no, but this pirate…where is he? Where have you seen him?"
"Well, I myself haven't laid eyes on this bad guy, but I heard he was on one of the nearby islands. Liet, what's up? Tell me, I can help you!"
"Please, what island was this pirate on?" Surely America would gravitate toward England. After all, it was his mission and the only reason America didn't come back from boredom was surely he found something relative to his job. "If we find England, I'm sure America will be close behind!"
"Alrighty, calm down. I'll draw a map. Liet, you're acting strange. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine!" His nerves were frazzled but otherwise he was great! "I think I'll go tell Sealand this, ok? I'm sure he wants to leave; he can hardly stay in one place either!"
"Sealand? The shrimp in the infirmary? Rowdy kid."
"Yes. Thank you so much Poland, I owe you." Feeling as if someone had pressed fast forward, he rushed out of Poland's room, leaving the blonde in a daze. He had walked through the hallways so fast he found himself pausing at the hallway where the infirmary was in a moment. Lithuania heard Sealand singing to himself.
"Yo ho ho, a pirate's life for me…nurse? Nurse! Hello! I'm kinda hungry! Can someone get some food?"
Smiling to himself, Lithuania started down to the infirmary when a hand gripped his shoulder. He knew who it was before he turned. He found he couldn't take another step – as if the hand summoned roots to take hold of his feet.
"Lithuania," Russia purred, leaning down to his ex-mercenary. "Where are you going off to in such a hurry?"
"I…" Feeling his mouth dry, Lithuania licked his lips. "I was going to see Sealand."
"Hmm. And what were you going to tell him?" Russia's violet eyes were shimmering strangely and Lithuania felt himself start to shake.
"I was just going to check up on him," Lithuania said softly, averting his eyes.
"Really? You weren't going to tell him you had found your little captain?" Lithuania jumped. It was as he feared; Russia had been listening in to his and Poland's conversation. He never felt safe in Russia's house; that man was everywhere and he had felt a little paranoid as he was telling Poland his story. Taking a breath, Lithuania attempted to explain himself when Russia pressed him against the wall.
"And that you were going to leave?" Russia pressed against Lithuania. "So soon? I thought you liked spending time with me." His voice had gotten dangerously smooth as he peered down at the trembling brunette. "I thought you liked me, Lithuania. Surely that's why your heart's pounding so hard?"
True, his heart was skipping over itself. He felt suffocated with Russia breathing down his neck. He opened his mouth and the words spilled out before he could reign them in. "You scare me, Russia." Lithuania watched as Russia looked momentarily surprised. "I'm afraid of you. You've hurt me so much before…I don't know if I can trust you again, not to mention forgive you. I don't know…" Before he could continue, Russia has silenced him, pressing his lips against his forcefully.
"I'm sorry," Russia whispered, hardly sounding too apologetic. "I've changed, Lithuania. I want you to stay with me. I'm different now. Trust me." The bed creaked slightly as the bodies on it shifted. Blood from Lithuania's back soaked into the sheets, turning them an unsightly red. Russia hovered over him, kissing his forehead with mock gentleness. "This won't hurt a bit," he assured the terrified mercenary, his hands keeping the young man beneath him still. "Trust me…"
"Stop," Lithuania begged, trying to push Russia away but failing miserably. Russia chuckled at the effort and kissed him again.
"Why would you want me to stop," the larger man asked, "when you've obviously wanting me not to?" He smiled mysteriously and Lithuania felt an odd inborn instinct within him act and was surprised himself when he reached forward and pulled Russia closer.
"Nurse?" Sealand's cries fell on deaf ears, as the hallway outside his room was deserted.
--
Romano was awake before he opened his eyes. He let the smooth motion of the waves bobbing the boat overtake him before he finally opened them. He was alone in Spain's room and there had been no sign of the captain ever being in the room. Romano sat up, vaguely wondering where his noisy fiancé had gone off to.
"I mean…you've been sailing with him for a while…do you actually like Spain now?"
Romano scowled as he remembered his brother's question yesterday. "Like you know anything, you stupid little brother," he muttered, staring out the porthole.
"Romano! Can I come in?" Before Romano could have given any sign of permission, Rome had burst into his grandson's room. Spotting his startled grandson near the window, Rome rushed up to him. "Romano! There you are!"
"Haven't you heard of knocking and waiting?" Romano snapped.
"No time! There's someone I want you to meet!" Rome grabbed his hand and started dragging him toward the door when Romano pulled his hand away and smoothed the dress he had on.
"I can walk myself, thank you," he said coolly, gathering up the folds of his dress. "And which one of your friends did you bring this time?" It was tiring, putting up this charade and having to entertain every one of Rome's friends, whom he brought around to brag about his beautiful lady in waiting. He hated being in their company of lecherous glances and nosy questions.
"Actually, it's someone new," Rome explained as they walked down the hall. "He's in the throne room."
"Who is he?"
"Your suitor."
Romano stopped his tracks, refusing to take another step. "Now listen here, gramps, I know you love this little game you've put me in, but come on! We both know I'm not what I seem and I definitely don't want to get married in this state! Especially not to a suitor you picked out! This is ridiculous!"
Rome pouted. "But Romano, people are getting suspicious. Someone in your status should have gotten married years ago! Just go along with it, alright? You'll make yourself suspicious if you don't play the role completely right! And it's only for a short while. Bear with me?"
"This is ridiculous!" Romano fumed.
"I know, please, Romano. It's only for a while. When you come of age, we're done, remember?"
Romano glared at Rome. It was hard to argue his case when he was decked out in a dress. "Fine," he grounded out. "But you can't expect me to like this guy you picked out."
Rome breathed a sigh of relief. "He's a nice guy, though, Romano. I hope you'll give him a shot."
"I'm not going to get married!"
"We're here!" Rome interrupted, thrusting open the doors. There was only one person in the room, and he turned to face them as the doors opened. Romano steeled his heart and stepped in, ready to stomp violently on this suitor's heart when…he stumbled.
The suitor in question had curly black hair that fell slightly over bright brown eyes, complimented with a charming smile. He strode up to Rome, who had walked up to greet him, leaving Romano to stare dumbfoundedly at the door. "Ah, Buenos dias, Senor Rome!"
"Spain! So good to see you again!" Rome turned to Romano, still staring and looking rather flushed. "I'd like you to meet my daughter, the younger sibling to the heirs! Come over here, Romano!"
This cannot be happening.
"Hi!" Spain chirped, sounding completely carefree as Romano stepped over. "My name is Spain, and I'm the high captain of the Balkan navy! Nice to meet you!"
Romano opened his mouth and found he had forgotten what he wanted to say. "That's nice," he came up with, knowing his putdown was rather weak.
"And you are…?" Spain prompted.
"None of your business," Romano snapped, relieved he had regained his sharp edge, ignoring Rome's look of 'behave-yourself'. He felt himself waver again as Spain smiled at him.
"Come now. You can at least tell me your name."
"I'm Romano."
"I see. May I call you senorita Romano?" The strange accent sounded so exotic, making the name sound oddly intimate. Romano felt his face flare red again.
"Plain Romano is fine," he said, keeping his voice steady.
I cannot be falling for someone I don't even know.
"This is wonderful!" Rome cried, clapping hands. "It's great the introductions went well! I'll leave you two to break the ice! Play nice, you two!" Skipping out of the throne room and away from the murderous hands of his grandson, Rome shut the door behind him. Romano had started to make a movement to the door when he was startled by Spain grasping one of his hands.
Bending one knee, Spain kissed Romano's hand, the epitome of a perfect gentleman. He had his eyes averted from Romano's face, so he was unaware of how red his fiancée's face had gotten. "Romano, I know this has been organized by Rome…but would you mind me taking your hand in marriage?"
…right?
"I don't want to get married!" Romano squeaked, pulling his hand away. "I don't think girls should have to get married if they don't want to! Especially to people other people pick for them! I think I should be able to marry whoever I want to!" Spain looked at him for a moment before standing up and straightening himself out.
"I thought you'd say that."
"What?"
Spain smiled sheepishly. "Rome said you'd be a handful. And I agree with you; I think marriage should be determined by the person. I don't think people should be forced together. But the boss says we have to get married, so we have to get married, eh?"
"Not if I don't want to marry you," Romano retorted. "Marriage is stupid. I don't think I should have to be shackled down by a husband. Why, I like doing what I want to…what are you doing?"
Spain paused; he had been running a hand through Romano's hair. "Oh…your hair looked soft, so I wanted to touch it."
Romano's face, which seemed to have recovered from its blush attack, pinkened again. "You touch people you hardly know? That's gross!" Backing away, Romano tried again to hold his own.
"Don't be like that. You can touch mine if you want." Grasping Romano's hands, Spain led them to his own head, running Romano's fingers through his dark locks. "See? Now we're even!" They were now even closer than before, Romano falling against Spain's chest.
Romano felt his knees quiver and cursed. He cursed again as he pulled his wrists away and started to the door, heading for his room. Spain followed him, confused.
"Romano! We're supposed to be talking…where're you going?"
"Go away!" Romano hurried down the hall, but Spain was taller than him and his longer legs quickly caught up to the escaping fiancée. "If Rome told you you had to talk to me, I can also order you too! You can go!" His heart was pounding too hard for him to like the situation.
"But Romano…"
"Go away!" Stopping in his tracks, Romano finally turned to Spain. "I don't want to marry you! I wish we didn't talk at all! I wish we'd never met!" he shouted ruefully, his eyes pleading with Spain to leave him alone. The taller man looked at him for a moment before taking Romano's hand once more.
"Romano," he said, sounding careful, "I know arranged marriages are a little abrupt, but I think I can grow to like you. Will you give me a chance?"
"A chance…?" Romano flushed and pulled his hand away. "Go away!" Dashing to his room, Romano was relieved that Spain had not followed him and he could regain his posture in the privacy of his quarters.
Granted, Spain did not stay away for long.
"Ma'am, he's waiting in your room for you," the maid murmured, trailing after Romano at a respectable distance. The brunette glared back at her with a scowl.
"What on earth are you talking about? Who?" When the maid didn't reply, but merely smiled at the floor as if she knew a secret he didn't, Romano hastened his pace to his room and threw open the door, expecting Rome blabbering about another scheme he hatched up or a rare visit from his bothersome little brother.
He hadn't been ready to see a rather forlorn-looking Spain staring out his window, brightening when he saw Romano in the doorway.
"Why would you let him in?" Romano demanded, turning to the maid, who was already scampering away. Grumbling to himself, the twin closed the door behind him, ready to give Spain the tongue lashing he deserved. "Why are you here?"
"Ah, Romano! Forgive me for coming here out of the blue…but I wanted to talk to you! I hope you won't mind."
Romano felt his face twitch into a grimace.
"Alright, but make it short," he grumbled further, unsure of why he was willing to listen to Spain in the first place. The navy captain looked relieved, stepping forward to Romano as if to greet him when Romano breezed past, making his way to the window seat. In his haste, he tripped over the obnoxiously long hem of his dress and started tumbling forward, reaching out to catch himself as Spain did so, saving Romano from falling on his face. In the process, the curly haired man accidentally brushed his hand against his chest, and Romano considered the fact that it would have been a rather embarrassing situation, had he actually been a woman. He smirked as Spain pulled his hand away quickly.
"Lo siento," Spain said quickly, flushing.
"It's quite alright," Romano replied, smirking and feeling the control he had over the moment. He sat down on the window seat, feeling a bit triumphant. Despite the fact that the latter had not made any movement to invite him there, Spain sat down next to Romano.
"I've been thinking since the last time we saw each other," Spain said slowly, sounding careful as if he were choosing his words carefully. He had his eyes trained on the floor, as if the ground could help him out. Pausing, he finally looked up at Romano with sincere brown eyes. "I think I've fallen in love with you, Romano."
Romano felt his face flush uncomfortably. "That's impossible," he blurted, his words whizzing past his mouth at breakneck speed. "We've just met."
"I know. But I can't stop thinking about you." Romano didn't know how to take this: part of him was proud of the fact that not only did he occupy the castle, but another person's thoughts, and part of him was horrified of that very fact. Spain scooted closer, making Romano scoot away. "You're just…so beautiful and so free…traits I love in a woman."
Thank goodness he wasn't a woman than! "Free?" Romano asked, knowing his voice was rising in pitch. "Why, so you can chain me to the house?"
"Of course not!" Spain had reached to grasp Romano's hand but missed as he was busy staring into startled brown eyes and instead gripped the latter's knee, resulting in a loud yelp. Quickly removing his hand, Spain rushed on. "What I meant to say was…there are so many women in the world who are willing to do anything for their husbands…but I like a woman who can think for herself. That's what you do, Romano." Spain leaned in closer again and Romano backed away again.
"I think maybe you should think this over," Romano urged, feeling his thoughts collide painfully with each other. "I mean, really…we've just met, so you can't be sure if what you feel is love or attraction or maybe you're just crazy and you don't know what you're talking about."
"It's love," Spain said, sounding confident. "I love you, Romano. I've never felt this way toward anyone else before." He leaned closer still and Romano was horrified to find out he was already at the edge of the seat. "Romano," Spain whispered, closing in so the smaller could feel his breath on his face. Romano grappled at the end of the seat, lifting his leg up to kick Spain away when he discovered the hellish dress not only made him look girly but was restrictive. He turned away quick enough for Spain to kiss his ear and stood up at the touch.
"Okay, okay, that is definitely not okay. You can't do that. You're pressuring me now! Rome won't like that! If you do that again…I'll…I'll tell on you!" Romano figured if he was thinking straight, he could come up with a better threat, but his mind was fuzzy and he wasn't sure what he just spoken anyway.
But Spain seemed to have snapped out of it himself. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, Romano! I don't know what went over me! I'm sorry, I'll sit away from you." Walking over to the opposite side of the window seat, he sat down and looked at Romano remorsefully. "Please sit down," he begged. "I really didn't mean it; I just wanted to talk to you."
Warily, Romano kept his eyes trained on Spain as he slowly sank down at the window seat again. Spain seemed true to his word, looking absolutely sheepish as he tried to jumpstart the conversation again. "So…um…Romano…I was wondering…your hair is really short. It's kind of like a boy's…do you like it that way?"
Romano smirked to himself. Even if Rome made him put on a dress and pretend to be a woman, he would not submit to growing his hair out long, even if he had to cut it himself. Rome had finally relented and got a barber after Romano finished hacking his hair away one time – after that, Rome figured it would be wiser to have a short haired lady in waiting than a lady in waiting with a beaver on her head. "You just said I was pretty. Now you say I look like a boy? So who exactly do you like, Spain, men or women?"
"If you like someone, it can be with either gender," Spain replied, rather smartly.
"You sound like you've had experience."
"Well, I was known for being very passionate back in Madrid!"
Romano crossed his arms and studied Spain. "So you're someone who's very easy."
"That's not true." Spain leaned forward, resting on his knees and staring back at Romano. "When I'm in a relationship with someone, I'm loyal to that person to the end."
Romano had wanted to trap Spain into saying something, anything unsavory but he was just getting denied every single time. It didn't help that the answers made his heart curl into strange shapes and Spain's smile made him want to throw something. It also didn't help that the man was always there – riding next to him as he visited the villages on the border or dancing with him at the damn winter formal. Yes, Spain made himself a part of Romano's life, and that itself was the reason for the whole mess.
"Ah, miss, there's someone waiting in your room but Rome would like him to be present when you talk…"
"Spain? Oh, then never mind Rome." Romano rushed down the hallway, leaving the flustered maid in his wake. "I can talk to him myself. You can tell Rome to take his time."
"But, miss…!"
Throwing open his bedroom door, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach, Romano looked around to see Spain, probably poking through his belongings. He hadn't expected to see a mysterious masked man, standing in wait.
"Who are you?"
"I, my dear princess, am going to take you away…"
"Stupid Spain," Romano murmured, staring out the porthole onto deck. Spain was already awake and observing the deck, along with Feliciano, who was dragging Germany around like a pet. Spain had not gone into his quarters, where Romano had been sleeping undisturbed, and was still looking rumpled in his clothing.
"I guess I've liked you for a while already."
To be continued
--
Notes: There. Here's your reward for reading so far: immense amounts of Spain/Romano fluff, smaller dosages of Greece/Japan and Russia/Liet. Happy?!
The original chapter I wrote is not this version. I accidentally deleted it, causing myself to freak out. This is the fragments of the original version I can remember, thus why it might come out a bit strained. I must do that for the next two chapters. Next problem: I strangely do not feel like writing. It must be late summer lethargy.
But YOU can do something about that! Review, and the next chapter MAY be out sooner! And as a little spoiler, it includes some Germany/Italy and England (sort of, maybe) coming into terms with his feelings! You don't want to miss! All you have to do is…click the little review button and leave a review! Easy, no??
