8. Two Euros and a Smile

Date Written: January 24, 2019

Date Posted: May 4, 2019

Characters: Germany, Veneziano

Summary: Germany loses his wallet.

Notes:

It wasn't often that Germany felt paranoid about visiting his friend's house. How could he? Italy was a gregarious fellow, always cheery and smiling. The times that he appeared to be annoyed, or god forbid angry, were few and far in between. Although his government could certainly use a little work, he was still a Nation who had a larger economy than most and had several booming industries. It must have been a century or so since they first met and the German was always excited to see the sights that his friend had to offer.

However, despite the light atmosphere, the German still couldn't help but feel the slightest hint of apprehension as he walked alongside his friend.

You see, whenever he patted the pocket that was supposed to have his wallet, he found absolutely nothing.

Absolutely.

Nothing.

The German Nation always made it a point to always have a couple of extra Euros on hand in case there was an emergency: paying for a friend's meal (Italy), bailing a friend out of a fine (Italy), or if a friend desperately needed the cash for reasons unknown (Italy).

Actually, now that he thought about it, he seemed to dote on Italy a little too much.

Regardless, his pocket was empty and his financial safety net was gone.

Did he happen to misplace his wallet? Had someone robbed him?

Neither of the two seemed likely since A) he was organized to a fault and B) he had been with Italy the entire day. How could have anyone robbed him when not one, but two veteran Nations had kept both eyes open for any potential thieves as they strolled throughout the streets of Rome? Yes, it was quite obvious that Germany was a tourist, which made him a prime target for thievery, but still...you would think that his large figure and general German-ness would have stopped someone from getting sticky fingers around him.

Germany was still pondering the issue—and trying not to look too overly foolish as he patted down his sides and front in vain for his lost wallet—when his dear friend Italy skipped up to him.

"Germania!" Italy waved his arms and hands about—almost as if he were one of the windmills in Don Quixote's signature work. "I have two big bowls of gelato waiting for us at a cafe, come! Let's eat!" At that, the Italian began tuning out the blond's protests and opted to drag him down the street.

They must have been quite the sight. Two men walking around: one with an air of frivolity and innocence and the other with a look of absolute dread. Perhaps it was Germany's paranoia acting up again, but he tried his utmost to lower his voice and cover up the burning in his cheeks as he once again reasoned with the Italian.

Or.

At the very least.

He tried to.

"Italien, I just lost my wallet," the German explained with an increasing tone of annoyance and worry. "Perhaps it would be better if we start looking for it now rather than—"

His friend turned to him; his small smile was now tinged with a look of remorse.

"Oh, really?" Italy waved his hand as if to brush the matter away. "Well now, don't worry! We can go looking—"

Germany shook his head and came to an abrupt halt. Italy, who had been continuously hauling the German behind him as if he were a reluctant dog on a leash, came to a stuttering halt by nearly falling onto the German's side.

"Italien," Germany began again. "I don't think you quite understand. All of my cards are in there. My money is in there. I know you don't have money on you. How are you going to—"

A hand on the blond's shoulder, combined with a serious look on the brunet's face, stopped the German in his tracks.

"It was never lost, Germania." With a swift movement, the sneaky Italian reached into his pocket to reveal—

"My wallet! But why—"

"Ve~! I decided to borrow your money for today since I'm completely broke, hahah!"

"Y-y-you pickpocketed—"

The Italian shook his head. There may have been a serious line of concentration on his face, but his eyes radiated with mischief most commonly found in youths hundreds of years younger than him.

"Borrowed! None of that stealing business, Germania! Now come, our gelato will melt!"

Even in the midst of his friend basically pickpocketing him for the chance of getting an icy treat to escape the heat, Germany could only chuckle ruefully to himself. It must have been a century or so since they had become friends and Italy still had the ability to surprise his northern friend. Now that his apprehension had abated (he really doted on the Italian too much to be healthy, but he'd rather not think about that), he lightly cuffed his friend on the ear.

"And why am I the one to pay for this superfluous venture?"

Italy rubbed his ear with a wince, but brightened with childish amusement. "Because you're a tourist, I'm hungry, and the gelato will melt. Let's go!"