Italy POV

I hummed loudly an old partisan song as I worked pulling on my dress slacks; the ones that would dazzle the ladies and make a good impression on Germany. Mostly it was for the ladies. They made my butt look nice.

Truly, I have never been the most sure-footed person. That was my excuse whenever my clumsiness got the better of me. I didn't get to make an excuse this time, I didn't need to. After falling on my back while pulling on pants like a toddler, I tipped my head back into the rug to look at Romano walking in on what to me seemed like the ceiling. I chuckled as he crossed his arms and scolded me: "Hurry the fuck up. We're going to be late."

Eventually I managed to get myself together and into a car with my brother, who was quite reluctant to be going to a party with "that kraut." To be quite frank, I wasn't entirely paying attention when Germany told me when or what this party was, and of course Romano was no help since he didn't seem to care at all.

It was 20:00 and quite dark. The street lights and the moon illuminated the Berlin nightlife. I've never particularly enjoyed this city; the people are cold, distant, and reserved. That was not at all the case at night, however. The one thing I truly liked about Germany is that when they cut loose, they cut loose. Though I assumed I wouldn't be going to one of Berlin's famous nightclubs. That wasn't my Germany.

I was excited for him, he was succeeding at so much and watching him grow made me happy, and knowing I'm his ally made me happy, and nothing he could do could make me change my mind.

Just as long as my people were happy, I was gonna be happy.

I held on to Germany's strong arm while he spoke to a man who looked important. He had grey hair and lots of shiny medals on his pristine white dress uniform, but besides that, I wasn't really paying attention, I was taking in the sounds of the party: laughing, music, drinks. It made me happy. Life was good, and Germany was here.

I was brought back to earth by a word: camp. Giving Germany a squeeze I said, "I'm gonna get us some wine."

Romano talked long and hard about all the horrors of the Third Reich and what had to be going on under the surface. One of the many things he mentioned were these atrocious camps where Jews and communists were sent to die. Of course, I didn't believe him. There is no way in hell Germany would let something like that happen, so I would always brush it off. I looked back at Germany and saw he was no longer with the scary man, it was a woman. A beautiful woman. She wore a red dress and had gorgeous blonde hair. Her red lips were plump and moist and- I walked straight into a flabbergasted waiter holding wine, barely missing knocking over every single glass on his fancy tin. Quickly, I grabbed two glasses and turned- no, three, I'd forgotten one for Germany and headed back in the opposite direction.

"Helloo~ What's your name, beautiful?" I said to her after walking over. After putting down two of the glasses, I handsomely kissed her knuckles.

She blushed. "Marie."

"Would you like a drink?"

"That would be nice."

"Good thing I brought one just for you." I smiled widely as I handed her the drink in my hand. When I turned back to the table to grab my glass of wine I noticed Germany had vanished. No competition then? Thanks!

Grabbing my glass I asked, "so, what brings you here tonight?"

"My husband's work."

"Ah, he should know better than to leave a beautiful woman alone. Someone may try and flirt with you."

She blushed. "All the ladies must fall head over heels for you."

"Well-" At that moment Germany walked up to the table and glanced sourly between Marie and me. His harsh face and cold eyes, which were becoming more usual, must have scared her off because when I turned to her she kissed my cheek and left. "You chased away the lady!"

"She's just a woman, Italy."

"Her name is Marie." I said so matter-of-factly.

"You just called her 'the lady.'"

"So?"

Germany sighed and looked to his side as if he was expecting someone.

"Hey, where's Prussia?" I asked, suddenly noticing the lack of the loud and very distinct presence. "Weird he'd miss an opportunity for attention and a room full of women."

"Denmark." Germany made a weird face when he said that. Discomfort? Guilt?

"I'm sure he's having just as much fun as we are!" I said to reassure him.