-August 6th, 2006. England's house in London, England-
Sometimes when you wake up, you know it will be one of those days. The 'walking around like your half-dead' sort of days. England opened his eyes and the clock read eleven. Yes, it would be one of those days.
He had stayed up late the previous night reading Harry Potter until one in the morning. it was still in his lap because he was still reading it when he fell asleep. He put the book on his bedside, and rubbed his eyes.
He had to leave now if he wanted to be at Italy's by two. It was already one at Italy's House.
England pulled his clothes on and ate a quick breakfast. Sealand and Wy were watching television in the sitting room. He waved both of him and his maid 'goodbye' before leaving.
He went outside to where his jet was already waiting. That's one of the perks of being paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to simply be living.
The jet ride to Venice took and hour and a half. England planned what he would say to Italy while the pilot to his side drove the jet. When he got to Venice, it took him another half hour to go by rented boat to his house.
He took a second to compose himself and plan his words before he knocked. When he did, Italy's face appeared at the window and the door swung open.
"Ciao, Inghilterra!" He said to him. "Would you like to come inside? I have already finished gardening."
"I thought you said that you had church. Did you not go?" England asked him. As far as England knew, Italy Veneziano and his brothers were very religious. He never accepted invitations to anything that took place on Sunday.
"Sì. I went to San Giocomo di Rialto..."
"You didn't really go, did you?" England asked him. Italy was as easy to read as a book.
"No," Italy replied. "I did go. I really did."
Seeing that it was making him uncomfortable, England tried his best to change the topic of conversation. "I accidentally slept in. I am probably going to have a long talk with the queen when I get home," he said. The corner's of Italy's mouth turned upwards, but not enough to form a smile. He pushed the door a little to signal that he wanted to go inside.
Italy lead him through a hallway lined with flowerpots and old photos. England recognized a few people in the photos and a few of the plants.
There was Romano beside a yellow hyacinths, France among several types, and Germany next to striped carnations. At the end, there was a painting of a blonde boy in black next to pink carnations.
"Is that Germany?" England asked while pointing to it.
Italy turned to look at him. It seemed eternity before he shook his head to signal 'no'. England didn't ask how he got the flowers to stay alive while they were long out of season. He walked to the kitchen and England followed. Wet towels covered the kitchen floor.
"What is this?" England asked him. He hoped that would not bring awkward silence as well. It seemed like an innocent question. However, the other one did too...
Italy crossed his arms. "The water level rose in the canal and a bit of water got into the houses." Squishing noises were made while they walked to the table. Italy sat down and England after. "This side of the house is still a bit wet."
"It will be okay, won't it?"
"It will." A small smile reappeared on Italy's face. "So, What now?"
"I just wanted to know something. Did you really do all the gardening by yourself?" England asked him. Surely he didn't pot all of those plants by himself. There must have been fourty at the least.
"No. Romano and Seborga helped me with all the plants you see now." He spoke with his hands, and gestured to the plants as he said what he did.
They talked for a while. Politics, sports, religion, social issues, technology advancements. Although they rarely talked, they didn't have bad relations. Eventually, there was a knock on the door. Italy got up to answer it and England followed him out of curiousity.
When Veneziano opened the door, Romano was standing at the step with his clothes soaked and Seborga was smiling.
"Good afternoon, Veneziano. Good afternoon, England," Seborga greeted them as he walked through the open door. England had talked to him a few times. He was a micronation in Veneziano's territory that sometimes hung around with Sealand and Wy. He remembered once when Wy and him came over to play with Sealand, Sealand was basically Canadian when Seborga turned his attention towards Wy.
Romano growled. "Get back here, idiot!" Water dripped from his hair. He pulled it back and began wringing out the ends of his shirt. England's orderliness kicked in as the wrinkles started to appear. Romano stepped inside and water dripped to the floor.
"What happened, Romano?" England asked him. He was trying to be polite but Romano glared at him.
"That idiot there was playing around in the gondola and he made me fall out!" His eyes were like daggers when he looked at Seborga. "Control your micronation, Veneziano!"
Italy went to the closet and grabbed a red towel out of a large stack. Romano's harsh expression lessened as Veneziano began to dry his hair.
"Thank you... What's for dinner?" He said a bit more calmly than he had said anything in a while.
"Well, I was thinking about making some British game pie since England is here."
"No. I will be leaving soon. You don't need to do that," England said. Italy turned to him. There was no smile on his face.
"But... I was making dinner 'specially for you... Please stay, Inghilterra." England couldn't find it inside of himself to deny Italy.
"Alright. I will stay." Veneziano slightly cheered and Romano scowled. England could hear Seborga laughing from the kitchen.
Author Note: Is there any danger in falling into the canal? If water levels rised enough, do you think Venice could become an uninhabited tourist attraction? Chapterly hint: The language of flowers. Anyways, thank you for reading this chapter. There are more to come!