disclaimer: disclaimed.

pairing: Germany and Italy.

dedications: for all those who lost in every way.

summary: Germany doesn't have to like coffee just because Italy does.

C O F F E E

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Germany wrapped his gloved hands around the comforting warmth of his coffee's mug. He had never been the biggest fan of coffee, but somehow today, he decided to drink some. The powerful nation sighed at his idiocy.

He wasn't drinking it because Italy used to.

Really, he wasn't.

Rolling his eyes at his pointless thoughts, he pushed his reading glasses (which he never usually wears) up the bridge of his nose and continued to read his manual. Germany finally had the free time he deserved; the war was over, there were no more screams of agony, no more bombs in the horizon, and no more gunshots in the distance.

In the safe confines of his home, he was content.

Almost.

Germany was clueless as to what exactly he needed. He felt alone in several ways—ways he couldn't quite put a finger on. What confused him even more was that he has a dog to keep him company and the birds usually sang symphonies just outside his house, so he shouldn't feel so empty.

The nation sighed again, trying to rid his mind of such thoughts and attempted to concentrate on his manual.

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There was a knock on his door.

Standing up with a frustrated curse, Germany laid his coffee on the counter and bolted to the door, ready to beat the daylights out of whoever decided it was the perfect time to interrupt him. Slamming the door open, he glared down at the intruder.

"Hello, Germany! How are you doing?"

Germany said nothing.

"Your brother and I are really close right now since I've been hanging out with mi hermano Antonio and you know how he and your brother and Francis are so close! So I decided maybe I can drop by after Prussia gave me your address! Anyways, how have you been-!"

Italy failed to notice the incoming fist headed straight to his face.

"Get out of here!"

Italy held his face, but he wished he was able to carry his heavy heart.

"But Germany-!"

"I SAID GET OUT!"

The taller nation seethed and tried to emit the most sinister of glares. Germany did not want to crumble, to cry, to fall.

He didn't want to forgive.

"You know you did wrong, Italy. You know."

Italy's smile was broken glass. "What you did was wrong, Germany. I killed the evil. You killed the innocent."

"It was my boss."

"Or so you say."

The brunette lifted a hand and flitted his fingertips across the blonde's face. Germany flinched away from such contact, and Italy sighed and dropped his hand to his side, fists trying not to clench.

"…Ve, Germany, I'm—you're still my friend."

"Well, you're not mine. Anymore. I apologize."

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"I know."

Italy turned to walk away, leaving broken bonds and whispers of betrayal and lies and lies and lies. He didn't prevent the tears that fell and watched as each droplet seeped into what's supposedly comforting grass underneath his polished boots. Siding with the Allies makes him feel new and clean.

But with Germany, he was dirty and weak and tired.

"It wasn't just a façade, right?"

"Ve…?"

"You were true. You were real, before you decided to take a different path, correct?"

"Of course. I'm still the same person, Germany. I chose the right path. Japan did too, just recently. The Allies have nothing against you, Germany. All we want is to make you see the real person that you are, not the one who was out for blood."

Seconds ticked by.

There was one.

Then 15.

Then 45.

Then there was a minute.

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"One day, you'll realize. It might take thousands of years, but we'll wait! I'll wait."

Italy stood on the tips of his toes.

"Remember this?"

He leaned up to kiss Germany's cheek then moved to the other one after.

"It's not just to greet someone! It's also to say, "I'll see you soon."

Italy beamed and abruptly hugged his former friend, and, out of instinct, Germany rested his forehead on the other nation's shoulder. Italy felt the warmth of what he assumed was Germany's tears cascade down his neck.

"Don't cry, Germany! You were never a bad person! But you will be, if you didn't hug me back!"

Germany laughed for the first time in so many years.

"Oh, and you smell like coffee! I want some coffee now too! You're a meanie, you didn't save any for me!"

His arms found their way around their way around the small yet internally powerful nation.

"Ve…? Germany, you can let go now!"

He didn't.

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The coffee on his counter lay forgotten.

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O W A R I

notes1: I absolutely hate this.

notes 2: Tell me what you think, though! That will be greatly appreciated!

notes 3: This is my first attempt with Germany and Italy's sexual tension. I still need to learn their characters, damn.