Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. (or the song this story was inspired by. *shot*)

Translations (in order of appearance):
(German)
Verdammt: damn it

"Ve~ That meeting was fun, Germany," Italy stated happily as he skipped alongside his favorite German.

Germany was about to protest that Italy had been asleep nearly the whole time, but he didn't have the heart to after he saw the Italian man's face.

"It would have been better if there could have been pasta."

The duo were at the end of the hall by now and ready to leave. Germany opened the door into the night, only to find it was pouring down rain. He looked back to Italy; the childish one was oblivious to the change in weather.

"Italy, wait here, I'm going to go to the car to get an umbrella."

"Why?"

The look on the copper-haired man showed that he wasn't affected by the rain.

"It's raining."

"I don't mind the rain, Germany!" A smile was plastered on Italy's face. "I like the rain."

"I don't want you to get sick."

"But what if you get sick?"

Germany sighed, "Stay here, I'm going to grab an umbrella."

The German pushed open the glass doors and walked into the dark. He started towards his car. But before he could get there, Italy was following him.

Did he ever listen?

No was the simplest answer to the question.

"Italy," Germany scolded, "What did I tell you?"

"Germany, I want you to dance with me."

What? What was Italy thinking? Could he be serious? In the rain? The little Italian would surely get sick.

Germany felt his cheeks burn as the skin tone on his face slowly crept to a deep red shade.

"You'll catch a cold, Italy. Come on, let's just go home."

Italy gently clasped his digits around the German's wrists—they didn't go all the way around, of course.

The Italian had a pleading look on his face as his chocolate eyes stared into icy blue ones, "Please, Germany?"

That look.That damned expression. Why did Italy have to be so damn cute?

Germany couldn't say no to that pitiful face on hislittle Italian. Why could he not resist that stupid Italian?

'Verdammt Italy,' Germany thought, 'Why do you have to do this to me?'

"Germany?"

Italy was stillstaring at him with that pitiful expression. Why the hell did he have to do that?

By now, Germany's plan to make sure that Italy didn't get wet, to prevent the Italian from falling ill, was done for. They were both soaked and probably both sure to get sick.

What did Germany have to lose?

His dignity, that's what.

There were still nations leaving the meeting. Some would be sure to catch the two.

Why did Italy have to do this kind of thing to him?

"Sure," Germany murmured, turning his head to the side to hide the growing blush, just like he had when he had admitted to Italy that he loved him.

"Yay!" Italy cheered, grasping Germany's bigger hands in his own. He placed the German's arms around his waist while he draped his arms around the other's neck. Italy swayed back and forth, forcing Germany's body to sway as well. The little brunet was content and had a small smile plastered across his face as he rested his head against Germany's chest.

Hungary was glad to be leaving the meeting that evening. She walked to the door, only to realize it was raining. Boy was she glad that she had come prepared; she pulled her umbrella out of her bag, opening it outside of the door. She walked outside under it, glad that she wouldn't be getting soaked. She made her way to the parking lot where she had parked her car.

A smile crept onto the Hungarian nation's face as she watched two certain figures sway in the falling rain by the cars. While still keeping hold of her umbrella, she rummaged through her bag for her cell phone. This picture would be making its way onto Facebook shortly afterwards.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! :)