And He Smiled

November 11, 2010
"I used to love a girl once, I think. I remember revolving my entire world around her." Germany relaxed against the sofa, relishing the moment. It was rare that Italy focused his attention long enough to have a deep conversation, and sometimes Germany needed one.

"What happened?" Italy asked quietly. Germany shook his head.

"I don't know." Italy looked down at the floor and hesitantly leaned against his shoulder. Surprised, Germany looked at the boy for a minute, but he face relaxed into a smile and he put an arm around him.


"There was a boy once, I think." Italy was stretched across Germany's bed, the nation himself reading a book. Germany looked up, listening. He was very aware of the flexible sexuality of Italy, so he said nothing. "I loved him with all of my heart. And he loved me too, I think." Italy's face crinkled with confustion. Germany watched him, his heart tearing just a bit. He understood.

"What happened?" Italy started a bit at the sound of the German's whisper cutting through the silence. Italy shook his head.

"I don't know."


"I don't remember what she looked like," Germany mused one day at dinner. "Only thinking that she was the most adorable thing on the planet." He looked down at his plate. "I don't even remember her name."


"He was a hooded figure, very mysterious. He was shady, but that's because he was shy. I don't remember his face, but he had the eyes that sparkled like the ocean." Italy scratched the back of the dog's head, not looking at Germany sitting next to him. Germany closed his eyes in reflection, disgusted with himself.

"If you can love somebody that much, how can you forget what they look like?" Italy looked up at him in miserable surprise, then looked away, embarrassed.

"I don't know."


"I left her. Things were getting rough at my house, so I decided to go; do bigger things. She gave me something when I left." Italy closed his eyes in rememberence, thinking about foreign tears shed thousands of years ago.

"What was it?" Germany felt a few tears trail down his cheeks.

"I don't know."


Italy watched Germany's chest rise up and down, enjoying his steady breathing. He knew Germany didn't like it when he snuck into his bed at night, but Italy always wanted to be as close to the German as possible.

"Nnnh..." Italy snapped to attention as Germany began to stir. "I..." Italy strained his ears in curiosity. "Italy." Italy froze. Why was he saying his name? "Ever since the 900s..." A fountain of tears suddenly sprang behind his eyes. He could see a million forgotten memories flickering in his mind, memories that he held so dear. "I've always loved you."


Germany sat in the kitchen alone, wondering where Italy was.

"I woke up and he wasn't there... strange." Germany mused to himself until he saw Italy's face suddenly appear in the doorway. "Italy."

"It... it was a deck brush." Germany raises his eyebrows, confused.

"What?" Italy looked down at his hands, a slight blush painting his cheeks.

"Ever... ever since the 900s..." Germany's eyes suddenly widened, finding himself speechless. "I've... I've always loved you." Italy braved a look up and Germany's face softened.

And he smiled.

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