The whole world is dark, with not a single star in the sky. I feel them coming up behind me and start turning to run away. There is nowhere to run. Fratello is gone. They have surrounded me and even as I pull a white flag out of my pocket, I know it is no use. I frantically wave it anyways, crying for Germany, Fratello, anyone, only for a gun to be pointed directly at my face…

"Italia! Italy! Vake up!"

Italy felt himself being shaken and snapped his eyes open, only to have them flood with tears. Germany was sitting on the side of the bed, his piercing blue eyes filled with concern. It wasn't unusual for either of them to suffer nightmares, but normally Italy's siesta was a peaceful slumber. The brunette sat up and started wiping his tears away. Germany pulled Italy to his chest and held him gently as the smaller man completely broken down in wept, images from a not so distant past refusing to leave his mind.

And I try to be there for him too when he's exhausted after a long day. I make wurst and tell him lots of stories eventually he's happier. I've learned that sometimes it's just better to listen, and when I listen, what Germany says actually makes sense.

Italy's POV:

The gun is gone; it was never there. Germany is here. It's okay, because Germany is here so I'm safe. Veh, now I wish I could stop crying. It was just a dream… but I am glad Germany is here anyways. It's okay now, because he's here.

I'm really lucky to have him. Whether I've fallen down from getting my shoelaces tied together or am running away from an enemy, he is always there to help me. He makes me feel a lot better. I hope I make him feel better too when he's had a rough day. I always try to make wurst and tell funny stories until the ice in his eyes melt away. I never want to see him in pain like how he was not too long ago. I want him to smile more often and not work all the time. I want him to love me the way I love him.

As Italy's sobs started to subside, Germany looked down at the Italian. Italy's curl ticked Germany's shoulder.

Germany's POV:

I hate seeing Italy like this. I hate that his past haunts him and breaks him down so badly. I wish I could protect him from bad dreams so he could be the cheerful person he usually is, all the time. Granted, it annoys me when he's a bit too cheery, but I prefer him like that to scared and crying. I hate it when he cries from something I cannot save him from. I hate it because… I guess I do love him.

Now that I think about it, loving Italy is not difficult to do. Even thought it does take a while to get used to the constant scent of pasta. Though he cries a lot, he's surprisingly defensive for those he cares about. Of course there's still things I don't understand about Italy, and I don't know everything about him, but he's the most important person in the world to me.

Eventually, Italy looked up from his lover's chest and realized Germany's shirt was completely soaked in tears. It didn't matter to Germany, and he locked his blue eyes with Italy's chocolate brown ones. Even though he Italy had been crying, his eyes were warm and beautiful. Both pairs closed as Germany kissed his beautiful Italy, a soft kiss soon turning into a passionate one. The pair was kneeling on the bed, bodies pressed together in the sudden heat of what was initially a comforting kiss. They broke apart as Italy laid back and Germany pressed himself on top of his lover.

"I love you," whispered Germany, before leaning down to kiss Italy again.

Italy only broke the kiss long enough to whisper back, "Ti amo".

AN: Finally! I had such a hard time writing this for some reason. Anyways, thanks for reading, hope you liked it even though Germany sees kinda out of character .