Author's Note: Hey. This is an update to show I am still alive. School's almost over, whoo.
How could one not notice the frenzy of hands waving every which way with some vague sense of direction whenever Italy spoke?
"Ah, Germany! I heard this really cool story!" Hands would gesture outward with uncontrolled tremors of excitement.
"Germany," those hands signaled with a twist, "did you know pasta gets gummy if you soak it too long?" A more pulled back gesture with his hands that underlined his new found knowledge took place.
Italy was known for being passionate, but Germany never thought it was so much a passion that it would embed itself in the limbs of a man to convey itself! Every story turned into a show of skilled hands tossed this way and that, emphasizing mundane details into marvelous tapestries. When Germany talked, he wondered if only his stern voice kept the energetic Italy's attention, because Italy's gesticulating surely kept his own.
"Then you handed me the contract and it was agreed we'd become the Triple Alliance!" Italy wrapped up his tales of the beginning of World War One with a very light tone, completely missing the point in the first place, but that did not stop him from telling his story. "I know you don't like to remember the past, but it was a really interesting time, ve…"
Germany sighed into his palm, eyes closed. He looked impassively at Italy, followed by the inquiry of, "Why do you do that when you talk?" The word for what Italy did escaped Germany's mind, but he tried to convey the idea via demonstration when Italy cocked his head. "That thing you do -- like this," Germany tried to have his hands play supporting cast to his words, but he merely accomplished looking like a bird hesitant in flight. "With your hands, why do you do that?"
Italy slowly pulled his hands forward so he could stare at them, wondering what his hands did that got Germany to ask such a thing. "I dunno what you're talking about, Germany. But speaking of hands, did you know that pizza makers--" Again, Italy used his hands to convey his story, causing Germany to suddenly jump up and point fervently at him.
"There, there! Like that!" As usual, the blonde country's excitement came off as angry to the other nation.
"L-like what? You're scaring me, Germany…" Italy started to cower in his usual fashion.
"O mein Gott," Germany sighed. "Never mind." He started to relax once again in his chair as Italy continued on his story with a quick bounce back from his cowardly façade. Not once did the Italian notice how much his hands played up his words and Germany decided he would find a book to explain why Italians gesticulate instead.
O mein Gott = Oh my God