#aphgerita

“At your house?” Italy asked, pounding up the stairs. “Of course I would! I still have to get dressed for the day, but I’d love to come over! I’ll be there in about twenty minutes!” Italy entered his room, pulling open his sock drawer.

“Oh, I see!” Germany grunted slightly as someone snickered in the background. “Wait just a moment!”

Italy, distracted by hopping around the room while he pulled on a sock, didn’t quite hear Germany. “Okay, see you in a bit!” He hung up, tossing his phone on the bed.

On the other end, Germany sighed and hung up the phone.

“Did he hang up on you, West?” Prussia asked, pacing into the kitchen.

“He sounded distracted.” Germany said, gathering the dishes on the counter and putting them int eh sink of hot water.

Prussia slunk over to the counter, grinning. “Don’t blame him! Who wouldn’t be after hearing you made your apple cake! Can I have a slice?”

“No.” Germany snapped, scrubbing the pan. “We have to wait for Italy.”

“Why would we? We never-” A look of dawning realization came upon Prussia’s features. “Oh, I see.”

“See what?” Germany grunted, focusing far too much on his wooden spoon.

“You want everything to be just perfect. Usually, you wouldn’t care if I just took a tiny slice. You like Italy, don’t you?”

Germany furrowed his brow at the dishes, not turning around. Prussia’s voice had taken on a very strange tone. “Of course I do. We are friends.”

“You know very well what I mean.”

Germany paused his scrubbing. He licked his lips, trying to think of something to say. He went back to his washing. “You make sure the living room is clean. We have a guest coming over.”

“The living room is always clean.” Prussia grumbled, walking away. He shut the door to the living room, standing in place as he processed the rather one-sided conversation he had just been a part of. He sat on the couch, resting his elbows on his thighs. Now, this made things complicated.

So. It appeared both him and his brother had fallen for North Italy.

What now?

The selfish part of Prussia wanted to have Italy for himself. After all, he had sacrificed so much for Ludwig, didn’t he? Raising him, teaching him to be a nation, and look how he turned out. A wonderful man, thanks to his teachings.

A wonderful man…

Prussia sighed. Who was he kidding? There was no way he could outright steal Italy from his brother in clear conscience. There was no way. But he also couldn’t fall victim to heartbreak. After living as long as he has, heartbreak got old very quickly. First losing Elizabeta to Roderich, and now…

He had been selfless then, right? He had seen that the two had loved each other and he had stayed out of their way.

But Italy did not love Germany… did he?

Prussia stood and paced the room. Did Italy love Germany? He was very touchy with him, sure, but he was that way to everybody. Discerning the romantic attachments of an Italian was almost as difficult as distinguishing a British man’s good friend from his acquaintance.

But if Italy did not love Germany. Then… did Prussia have a chance? Prussia stopped. Approached the window and looked out at their front lawn. Down the driveway. Therein lived the key to solving their little problem, right? There it was, right in Prussia’s gloved fingertips.

If Italy did not love one brother or the other, then surely, he was fair game. He knew that Ludwig was no idiot. He knew that if Prussia were to begin competing with him for Italy, then Germany would know and do the same. The two of them competing for Italy’s affection. Surely, this was fine. More than fair.

Prussia swallowed the slight feeling of discomfort that rose in his chest, allowing himself to enjoy, just for a moment, the peace of finding a solution.

About ten minutes later, Italy finally arrived.

Prussia bolted down the stairs, his clothes ironed, his hair combed… he had put on a little dab of cologne against his better judgement. As far as he was concerned, he was as ready as he could be. He rushed past his brother in an attempt to get to the door. “’Scuse me!”

He wrenched open the door, the doorbell not even fading out before he saw the face of Italy.

Italy was dressed casually but refined. A button-up shirt French-tucked into a pair of skinny jeans, his hair combed. His cologne, sweet but masculine, reached through Prussia’s nose and clenched its fingers around his heart and squeezed.

“Italy!” Prussia greeted, ignoring the pang in his chest.

“Prussia!” Italy lurched forward, wrapping Prussia in a hug. “How are you doing?”

“Better now that you’re here, Italy!” Prussia allowed himself the indulgence of scanning Italy up and down once again. “You’re looking good!”

“You’re looking good too, Gilbert! Did you do something different with your hair?”

Prussia reached up and brushed the thin strands sheepishly. “Eh, not really.”

Italy peered over Prussia’s shoulder, his face lighting up as he saw Germany. “Germany! Thank you for inviting me over! How are you doing?”

Italy passed Prussia and reached up, pulling Germany down for a hug.

“I’m doing fine, how are you?” Germany peered over Italy’s shoulder, frowning at Prussia. A silent question.

Prussia looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. If Prussia had happened to glance over at Germany again, he would have seen the glinting realization of what was going on. A harsh glint of what could have been jealousy, grief, or a toxic mix of the two.

Italy pulled away, beaming up at Germany. “It was so nice of you to invite me over for cake! I do so love your cake, Germany. Your coffee, too! Though I admit, it’s not quite up to par with Italian coffee.”

“Best coffee in the world, right?” Prussia asked, walking over to the two. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“Have you never had it?” Italy asked, surprised.

“Can’t say I have!” Prussia answered. “Perhaps you could take me to a couple Italian coffee shops sometime and give me my overdue education!”

Italy clapped his hands together delighted. “Oh, that would be wonderful! We should set that up sometime!” He beamed. “Now. Where is this cake of yours?”

Germany waved Italy toward the dining room, furrowing his brow at Prussia. The gaze wasn’t antagonistic, or even heated. It was more… betrayed. Disappointed.

Prussia hardened himself against the gaze. No. He had raised Germany from the ground up. He had never felt the pleasure of love and being loved in return. The concept was well overdue. And if it just happened to be Italy who provided that experience then… well… there were plenty of fish in the sea. Ludwig was a handsome man, surely it would be no struggle. Prussia crossed into the kitchen, starting up a conversation with Italy.

The three sat at the table, the slices of cake long since eaten.

Germany pushed himself from the table. “I’ll just excuse myself for a moment.”

“Okay,” Italy said. “We’ll be waiting for you!”

Germany left the room, leaving the two of them behind.

Italy immediately turned to Prussia, his brow furrowed. “Is Germany acting strange to you?”

Prussia swallowed, raising his coffee cup to his lips. It was empty. It didn’t matter. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh. I guess it’s just me, then.” Italy said, turning his head to look out the dining room window.

“You’re really kind.” Prussia said.

Italy turned his head to Prussia. “Hmm?”

“You’re very kind. Thoughtful. You put others before yourself.” Prussia leaned back in his chair. “That’s pretty awesome of you.”

Italy raised an eyebrow, resting his elbows against the table. “The awesome Prussia calling me awesome? I’m honored!”

“You should be.” Prussia said. His voice had… changed. Become softer. “You’re awesome.”

Italy’s gaze returned once again to the window. “You’re very sweet.”

Germany returned, three wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “I thought we could have a glass of wine.”

“Oh, that would be perfect!” Italy grinned. “Thank you, Germany!”

“Of course.” Germany rested the glasses on the table, pouring out an amount for the each of them. His own serving was noticeably smaller.

Italy took a sip, his gaze brightening. He lowered the glass. “What wine is this?”

Germany too lowered his glass. “Oh. Antinori.”

“No kidding!” Italy cried. “That’s my favorite wine!”

“Oh, really?” Germany asked, evidently surprised. “I’m glad you like it!”

Prussia studied Germany over the rim of his glass. Germany didn’t like wine. Hated red wine. Never drank it of his own accord. Even now as he sipped it, his disgust was only thinly-veiled. This was too strange to have been a coincidence. Germany had planned to have the bottle in his house when Italy came over. Prussia took a rather large swig out of his glass, hoping it would get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth. Hopefully it would take affect soon.

The three then walked in the yard, about the enter the back woods. They made their way into the forest, silent as they observed the sun peeking through the leaves and listened to the birds singing their songs.

Prussia happened to glance down at the ground, grinning as he spotted a pretty pink flower growing out of the ground. He plucked it, rushing forward to Italy’s side. “Hey, look what I found!”

“Oh, Prussia, that’s lovely!” Italy crooned.

Prussia pushed it behind Italy’s ear, brushing his soft hair with his fingers as he did. “It brings out your eyes.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet! Thank you, Prussia.” Italy grinned at Prussia, his long fingers brushing the petals of the flower.

“Of course! It’s the least I could do for the awesome Italy!” Prussia happened to catch a glimpse of his brother. He was looking away, apparently seeing something very interesting in the distance.

“Did you know that the tale of Hansel and Gretel was written by a German?” Germany asked, speaking very swiftly.

Italy turned to Germany, surprised. “Oh, really?”

Prussia furrowed his brow. Italy had been around for a very long time. He could recite his entire history in extreme detail, as well as the history of Japan and Germany. There was no way Italy didn’t know.

“Yes.” Germany said.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard it.” Italy looked at Germany pleadingly. “Could you please tell it to me?”

The corners of Germany’s mouth lifted. “Of course I can.”

Germany told the story, his words occasionally punctuated by the amazed murmurings of Italy. Prussia stared ahead into the forest. Ludwig may not have been an idiot, but neither was he.

That evening, he stood in the shower for longer than usual. He didn’t know how long it had been when he had finally turned off the water and stepped out. He wrapped a towel around his waist, rubbing his feet on the shower mat. He studied himself in the mirror, leaning against the sink. From the hot shower, his pale skin was unusually flushed.

Prussia scoffed at himself. Who was he kidding? Italy had made his choice ages ago. And what had come out of Prussia’s actions? All he had managed to do was betray his own brother. Ludwig had always felt for Italy. Always. He had been stupid not to see it. Prussia shook his head, disgusted with himself. How had he been so blind? Even earlier today, when he came to the decision to compete for Italy, he knew what he was doing. He had swallowed that disgust and it had settled like a stone in his heart.

He wanted it out.

“Some ‘awesome’ brother you are.” Prussia growled at his reflection. He tore his gaze away from the mirror, getting dressed. He furiously scrubbed the water out of his hair with a towel and left the steamy bathroom. As he crossed his bedroom, he was caught in a beam of light from the moon. He strode forward and ripped open the curtains. Gazed down at his front yard, and down the driveway.

Was this really it? Was Prussia destined to live a life of loneliness by himself? Locked in his own solitude? Was he really supposed to chase friendships to fill a void in his heart? He sighed, his breath fogging against the window. If he was truly destined to be alone as he feared, then he could take comfort in the fact that he was because he was doing it for his brother.

He pushed open Ludwig’s door. “Knock knock.”

Germany was sat at his desk. He looked over to Prussia, his gaze furrowing. He stood. “What the hell was that today?”

“I know.”

Germany stood in place, his expression unchanging. “You know?”

“Yes, I know. It was a real dick move, everything I did today. I look back on it and wonder what the hell I was even trying to do in the first place.”

Ludwig’s face was blank.

“I just…” Prussia sighed. “God, why is this so difficult?” He grunted frustratedly. “I’m tired of being alone. Being alone sucks ass. To never have someone love you back is awful, okay? And I let it get to me. I shouldn’t have, I’m just being so damn emotional and weird.”

“You’re… not.” Germany said awkwardly. “I understand.”

“You don’t understand one goddamn thing.” Prussia snapped. “You’ve only ever loved Italy, and you’ve got him.” All at once, Prussia lost the energy to be angry. All that was left was… sorrow. Apathy. The emotion was not foreign to him, but it never got less heartbreaking. “And I want you to have him. Really, I do.”

Germany sighed, glancing out the window.

Silently, Prussia mused that they really were more alike than what most people realized.

“I don’t want to be with him.” Germany finally answered, turning to Prussia. “Not if it makes you feel this way.”

“It won’t forever.” Prussia tried for a winning smile. “I’ll get over it.”

Germany looked levelly at Prussia. “I’m not good at this. Never have been, probably never will be. But if being with Italy makes you feel like this all the time, I couldn’t do it in good conscience. There’s someone out there for everybody, Gilbert, and there’s even someone for you.”

Prussia scoffed. “Even for me, huh?”

“Even for you.” Germany said. “Get some sleep.”

“I kind of don’t want to sleep.” Prussia protested. “I kind of want to… get drunk off my ass, y’know?”

Germany smiled slightly. “Me too.”

“Let’s go, then.” Prussia slapped the door frame lightly as he left the room. “Your awesome brother will get the first round.”

“Who will drive us home?” Germany asked, following his brother out.

“France, probably.” Prussia said. “He’s so nice, I could get him to do just about anything.”

 The world meeting came around half a year later. Italy had taken his place on Germany’s right side, Japan at the other end of the table next to America.

Prussia watched his brother and Italy, his brow furrowed. True to Germany’s word, he made no romantic moves on Italy. Italy, in return, appeared to have been keeping his feelings in check. Anybody could see that the two loved each other. Everyone except themselves. Prussia looked down at his hands, idly drawing a chicken on the corner of the meeting’s agenda. It took him four months to realize where he stood with Italy. He had some time to analyze his feelings and the way he even thought about himself.

It wasn’t that he was in love with Italy. It wasn’t that he even felt for him in any way beyond friendship. It was that Italy, lovely, affectionate Italy, gave Prussia attention he wasn’t quite used to. Attention that could be interpreted romantically. And, like a school girl, Prussia thought himself in love with him. Really, it appeared he was in love with the idea of loving and being loved back.

So here Prussia was, doomed to be alone. That’s what it felt like, at least. He was disturbed from his dramatic internal monologue when he heard the sound of the chair next to him scooting outward. Prussia didn’t look up from his work.“Hey, Greece.”

“Hmm?”

Prussia blinked. That definitely wasn’t Greece. Prussia turned his head, looking up. In Greece’s usual place was Canada, looking confused and slightly embarrassed. “Oh! Canada.”

“Sorry, is it okay if I take this seat? Greece wasn’t able to make it today, and…” his already quiet voice lowered to a whisper.

Prussia leaned in so as to hear it.

“I’d rather not sit next to Russia, if you know what I mean.”

Prussia waved to the empty seat, smirking. “Well, well, so Canada does people he doesn’t get along with!”

Canada only shrugged slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting up. “Only if you can keep it a secret.”

Prussia smiled down at his hands again. He knew of Canada of course, they have both been involved in group conversation. The two had never conversed directly, though. Never got around to it, he supposed. Prussia didn’t expect to get a humorous streak from him.

“Nice chicken.” Canada muttered, pointing to the drawing on Prussia’s papers.

“Thanks!” Prussia responded.

“I didn’t know you were an artist.”

Prussia smirked over to Canada. “Only if you can keep it a secret.”

Canada bit back a shy smile before turning back down to his papers as a distraction.

Prussia found himself flabbergasted. Come to think of it, he’d never seen Canada smile so genuinely. He always had his polite grin, of course, but that uninhibited smile… those eyes so blue they were almost purple…. Oh no. In Prussia’s periphery, he could see Germany watching the two. Germany was no idiot. He knew what was going on.

Prussia ignored the gaze, however, turning back to Canada. “I’d really like to get to know you sometime, Canada.”

Canada, his face flushed, looked back and smiled.