Thanks to Annabelle Flynn for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

FraIta: Dreamer

Italy was doodling on his notes, not paying attention to the meeting at all, and not even noticing Germany's disapproving glare. But since Romano was taking notes, it was alright.

Romano might not seem like it, but he understood his brother's need to live in his fantasy world, and kept quiet about it. Italy was afraid what some people would say about his constant need to daydream.

Italy was so caught up that he didn't notice as a break was called, and only looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see France smiling down at him.

"Let's go get something to eat, mon cher," France said.

Italy smiled, nodding his head. He followed the Frenchman out, letting his mind wander, but not too far, just in case he needed to snap back to reality at a moment's notice.

He wouldn't admit how many of his daydreams involved the Frenchman. He didn't even tell Romano, since he knew Romano wouldn't be very happy. Romano was already unhappy about the two of them dating, and his tolerance for the daydreams might reach its end.

He also didn't want France to know about his daydreams. He didn't want the other to think that Italy wasn't present whenever they were together.

"I was thinking about spending some time together this Saturday," France said, bringing Italy back to reality. "What do you think, mon amour?"

"Ve, I'd like that," Italy said.

…

Italy was working on a painting, trying to visualise it in his mind. But then the moment that he wanted to capture started to gain movement, and he started to think more and more about how the movement developed into a story. And he wanted to see the story come to fruition.

Eventually he had to start moving as well, and he began to pace as he watched the story in his head. He didn't notice as someone started to knock on the door.

France frowned. He tried knocking again, but Italy didn't answer. And the Italian's car was in the driveway, so he had to be home. And they had a prior engagement, so Italy wouldn't have gone for a walk.

France searched around until he found the spare key. After unlocking the door, he went inside.

He heard movement from the hallway, and he made his way there. He saw Italy pacing frantically, a frown on his face. France wondered what was going on.

"Italy?" France called out, but Italy didn't react.

It was France's turn to frown, and he walked over to catch the other by the shoulders. That seemed to snap Italy out of his thoughts, and France felt a little guilty when he saw how violently he was snapped out of them.

"F-Francis," Italy stuttered. "S-sorry, I-I didn't see you."

"Feliciano, what's wrong?" France asked. "What's bothering you?"

"N-nothing's bothering m-me."

"Feliciano, you were deep in thought. Really deep, it would seem."

"I… I guess I was just caught up in a daydream."

Italy had tears in his eyes, and France noticed it right away.

"These daydreams," France said, "how often do you get them?"

Italy swallowed nervously.

"All the time," Italy said. "I can't always control when they come. And I really like them, but…"

"When did this start?" France asked.

"Around the time when you told me that Holy Rome died."

France sighed, stroking Italy's cheek.

"I've heard of this," France said. "It's called maladaptive daydreaming. There's huge debate about whether or not it's really a disorder."

Italy's eyes widened when he heard the word 'disorder'.

"So, it's wrong?" he asked, before looking down. "I knew it."

"Non, mon cher," France said. "Nothing is wrong with you. You're perfect. But if it really bothers you, we could try to find some help."

Italy nodded solemnly.

"So, what brought it on anyway?" France asked, and Italy shook himself.

"Ve, this painting," Italy said, dragging France to his art room.

France saw the canvas; the outline still being drawn. It was clear to the Frenchman that this was something that came from Italy's mind, like several of the other canvases hanging in the room. France took a moment to admire the paintings.

"Are these all scenes that you imagined?" France asked.

"Ve, si," Italy said.

"They're beautiful. See, nothing is wrong with you. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to create such a beautiful world."

Italy smiled, and France's own smile turned a little mischievous.

"So, mon cher, do you have any daydreams about moi?" France asked, and Italy's blush told the other all that he needed to know. "Honhonhonhon…"

The prompt was: 'Person A has maladaptive daydreams and Person B doesn't know. One day, Person B walks in on Person A pacing, nearly giving them a heart attack. What happens next is up to you.'

As soon as I heard about maladaptive daydreaming, I had to look it up. Guess what I have. But hey, where do you guys think my plot bunnies come from? And I have a lot of plot bunnies (28 multichapter fics to work on, at least fifteen I started but abandoned, and quite a few oneshots…). That's the good part. The bad part… One of the symptoms is repetitive movement while daydreaming, and I do that… by pacing. And sometimes the pacing becomes running. And I don't always notice obstacles in my path when this happens… If I had to guess, I'd say 40% of the bruises on my body are from these. The other 60% are either from my dogs or from me being clumsy. And the only way I can stop daydreaming is by doing at least two things at the same time, like studying while watching anime (which is why I prefer dubbed anime).

But yeah, I can imagine Italy as a daydreamer, which would explain why he's so happy all the time. And it makes sense if you think about the episode where they're on the island and Germany and Japan are discussing world politics while Italy was making a pasta sculpture. I think I've got a new headcanon for Italy…