He stood in shin-deep water, the liquid waving along his legs as he wandered around venice, slipping past visitors and citizens, rounding corners as old buildings towered overhead, casting a shadow over him. If he looked up, the bright blue sky could be seen, a few clouds dappling the vast space above.
North Italy Veneziano waded through the water, glancing around as a few Italian citizens pushed their way through, grumbling curses. Italy smiled softly, the sight reminding him of his older brother who tended to insult others and string out colourful curses.
He continued on, heading to a town square. People passed to and fro, talking to others and wishing that the water would return to normal.
Italy paused for a moment, and continued hsi trek to his house. Once he got there, he swung open the door and stepped inside, a few splashes of water dripping off his soaked boots. He closed the door, entering the kitchen where South Italy Romano was stirring some sauce, grumbling about hoping that a certain spainard would leave him alone at the meeting. Italy greeted his brother with a jolly hello and slipped over to a pot where spaghetti noodles were cooking, and glanced at the bubbling water inside, steam rising and covering a layer of moistness along the walls. Italy took the pot and emptied the contents into a filtering dish that was laying in the sink.
He picked up the filter and poured the noodles onto two plates, putting the rest in a container, which he placed in the fridge. Romano carried the sauce pot over and poured some onto one plate of spaghetti, and did the same with the other. He also put the sauce into a container, which went into the fridge.
The two brothers sat down at the table, quietly eating the dinner.
Romano glanced up at Italy, who was twirling his fork around in the noodles. The latter looked tired, slight dark circles were visible under his eyes. The Acqua Alta was really taking a toll on him. Who knew when it the flooding could get serious? He hoped that none of the next floods would be as bad as the one in 1966.
After finishing, the brothers washed their plates. "Ve, fratello!" Italy beamed, waving his hands in the air to attract his brother's attention. "I'm going over to Germany's house!"
"Yeah, yeah, I know..." Romano huffed. "Go hang out with the potato bastard..."
Italy pulled the other into a hug, squeezing Romano's shoulders and nuzzling his cheek. "Lovi~ Ti amo!" He gushed.
Romano scowled, mumbling a quiet "Ti amo" back, pushing him off. Italy bid goodbye and skipped out of the house, pulling his boots off and wading through the water. Dark, gloomy storm clouds were casted overhead, creating shadows on the ground. Rain poured from them, spitting into the water and pounding softly against windows, roofs and walls. People hurried to their destinations, kicking up water in their wake.
Italy sighed, smiling. He skipped on, exiting Venice, and making his way over to Switzerland. He heard a gunshot, and a patch of dirt and grass flew up near his feet. Italy jumped in surprise, despite crossing Switzerland's border a lot to see Germany. He heard a distant shout of "Get off my land, Italy!" and he quickly began stuttering and picking up the pace.
"Very sorry, Switzerland! I'm just very calmly going to Germany's house! Sorry!" He wailed, breaking into a sprint as the blonde began shooting his sniper faster.
He reached the border, sighing loudly. He continued his way over to Germany's house, humming a soft tune. He got to the house and opened the door, calling out. "Germany~ I'm ho-ome!" He giggled, closing the doors and skipping further into the house. He swurved down a hallway and entered a room where his friend was hunched over a table, the scratching of pen against paper reverberated around the room. A pile of papers was sitting to the right of Germany, and to his left was a smaller pile.
Italy hopped over to Germany, placing his hands on the other's shoulders and leaning to see what he was doing.
Germany flinched slightly, turning to glare at the Italian nation. His crystal blue eyes swirled with annoyance and exhaustion.
"Ve~ Germany, how long have you been in your office?" Italy asked, raising his hand and brushing the tip of his index finger against his bottom lip.
Germany turned to the clock, squinting to look at the hands. "For... five hours." He turned back to Italy, his jaw tightening as th Italian's face lit up with surprise.
"Germany! You shouldn't tire yourself out!" He grabbed the German's hand, and much to the other's surprise, pulled him out of the chair and into the hallway. Italy pulled him into the kitchen, forcing Germany to sit down at the table. "You sit here, okay? I'm going to make pasta!~" He beamed brightly, hurrying into the kitchen. Germany sat there, and let out a sigh. He rested his hands in his lap and closed his eyes... It was rather nice to have a break...
After the pasta was done, Italy laid the plate down in front of his friend, sitting down in the chair across from him. He smiled, watching as Germany ate. His curl unconsciously forming into a heart-shape. A warm feeling blossomed in his chest, sending a pleasant, spark throughout his body. He waited until Germany was finished eating, then pulled the Germanic nation out of the house, much to the other's hesitance. But he loosened himself and gave up after the Italian flashed a cute-looking face, his honey-coloured eyes widening and his bottom lip sticking out in a pout. "Germany, it's not good to stay cooped up in your house, you need to get out!" is what he had said, his cheeks puffing up and his eyes pleading.
They were walking around the town of Kreuzberg, and despite Germany being familiar with the streets, he still smiled as Italy skipped alongside him, glance to and fro at the buildings and store windows like a little kid. After around an hour of walking, the two sat down at a park bench, only a few people were at the park, and none were around them.
Germany took the opportunity to turn to Feliciano. He placed a hand on Italy's chin, directing the other's face so they were looking at each other. Germany quickly leaned forwards and pressed his lips against Italy's, pulling him into a strong kiss. He saw Feliciano's eyes widen, but he didn't move away.
After a few more seconds, he pulled away, a light blush colouring his cheeks. "Italien, ich liebe dich." He said sternly, looking at Italy, who quickly recovered and smiled softly. "Ti amo anch'io, Germania!" He chirped, smiling.