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At his boss’s behest, Switzerland had begun talking to other countries more. Not much more, though. While he wasn’t one to half-ass things or just do the bare minimum, his boss never specified how much more he had to interact with people, so he did what he had to with that lack of information. Maybe making friends would do him some good, but he wasn’t all too willing to sacrifice his peace and quiet, knowing how those other countries are…
He didn’t actively seek out Italy to talk to; in fact, Italy was among the absolute last countries he wanted to be buddy-buddy with. But Italy noticed what Switzerland was trying to achieve, and thus took that as an invitation to start getting closer. Too close, really. Seriously, that guy was way clingier than Switzerland thought. Why was he like that? Was he like that on purpose?
Weirdly enough, although still pretty irritating, Italy eventually proved himself to be surprisingly tolerable, somehow being far less of a nuisance than Switzerland initially thought. Their interactions had become a regular occurrence with them frequently texting and calling and paying each other visits (more like Italy just kept randomly showing up at Switzerland’s house) and he found himself cherishing the friendship that had blossomed between them. Cautiously, though, cautiously. Reclusive Mr. Switzerland was still hesitant to let people in; his door wasn’t locked, it was just very heavy.
But maybe he should’ve kept the door locked. Had he done that, what happened next would’ve never occurred and he would still be living in relative peace.
Italy strolled into the room, once again having shown up unannounced, his hands behind his back. “Good morning, Switzerland! I have something great to show you!”
“Something great…?”
“Yep!” With that, Italy brought his hands from behind his back, holding a bouquet of roses. “From me to you!” Switzerland’s eyes widened, his face as red as the roses he was now holding. Stunned to the point of near-speechlessness, he struggled to respond for a moment. “Th...thank you,” he finally managed to say. Italy smiled sweetly. “Anything for you!” With a peck on Switzerland’s forehead, Italy then left as suddenly as he arrived, leaving him with his own thoughts.
‘What the hell? What was that? Does he just do this for anyone?’
Had all knowledge of any language whatsoever not flown out the window in that moment, he would’ve asked how many other people got roses, how many other people got an “anything for you” and a kiss on the forehead. Switzerland was normally relatively composed, so the fact that he short-circuited so easily just because of a simple gesture surprised and, quite frankly, scared him. This wasn’t normal.
If Italy was able to make him feel so helpless in one of the least threatening manners possible, who knows what else he is capable of! That’s why Switzerland was so hesitant to get too close to other countries, lest they manage to tear him down, just like Italy was. This was a serious security risk!
But maybe he didn’t mean it that way? Everyone knows that Italy is weirdly affectionate towards most people, so there was nothing behind it, right?
No, it had to mean something. Italy was a grown man, he had to understand that giving someone flowers and kissing them was serious business. Sure, there was no explicit declaration of romantic love, but with those actions, was that really necessary? Maybe he was dropping hints? It can’t be that, this wasn’t even remotely subtle. Did Italy have want to be with Switzerland? And did Switzerland want to be with Italy? It was in his nature to avoid close relationships, so he didn’t know how to approach this; for the longest time the only one who he could consider a friend was Liechtenstein (Well, she was more of a sister to him, but close enough), and he was close with Austria before things between them went south for the permanent winter, but this was different, this was something that could seriously affect the trajectory of his life. He figured he felt this way because Italy was nice to him. Yes, he was nice to everyone, but still. He was kind of pleasant to be around, albeit weird and annoying. His positive outlook was nice and his joy was contagious, making Switzerland’s day just a little brighter. Not quite as bright as Italy’s smile, though; that was pretty bright. And his eyes — when they were open, at least — were pretty bright too. They made him feel warm inside, perhaps just as warm as Italy’s hugs were.
Ah, there he goes, thinking of odd things, all the while glaring at the vase of roses hard enough to burn a hole through it. These thoughts weren’t new, and they always came at random; he could be doing anything, anything in the world, and he’d suddenly think about Italy and how much he liked him and suddenly find himself unable to function properly until the thought passed. Switzerland couldn’t think straight (no pun intended) at this rate. It’s never been like this before; not with Liechtenstein, not with Austria, not with anyone else. What could this mean?
“It sounds like you love him,” Liechtenstein said after having heard the story.
“Love,” Switzerland exclaimed, flustered. “That’s ridiculous!”
“Well… do you often think about being with Mr. Italy? As in, more than just friends?”
Did he? He did think about being with Italy, much to his embarrassment, but for the long run? Was he ready for that? He must’ve made some kind of face, because Liechtenstein giggled.
“Hmm, your expression says it all. You really don’t just like him as a friend, Big Brother.”
That's where it all had become clear. He was so sure he was overreacting, but getting a second opinion eliminated any doubt. If he liked Italy and Italy liked him, then it had to be made official, obviously. And so began him spiraling into further turmoil.
After being enlightened, the feelings that had overtaken him when he’d see or even think about Italy had gotten far more intense; surely a consequence of being aware of it, he thought. While he apparently couldn’t figure out what these feelings were on his own, Switzerland certainly was smart enough to know that he couldn’t keep them to himself forever, they would probably end up coming out against his will. He would never know peace unless he said something; well, he already doesn’t know peace as it is, but still, it was best to let his feelings be known on his own terms.
How would he go about it, though?
“Grand gestures aren’t really my thing,” Switzerland mused, “they’re way too embarrassing…”
Suddenly, it was as if a light switched on in his head. He could invite Italy to dinner, of course! A classic, simple approach! Everything’s less intimidating when there’s food involved, right? And after thinking about it for a moment, he thought it was best if they had dinner at his place; after all, if he was going to run the risk of humiliating himself, he may as well do that in the comfort and privacy of his own home. No need to make spectacle of himself in public.
It took him a week to gather his courage and prepare. He had to make sure he knew what he was doing, what he was going to say, how he was going to say it. It all had to be perfect, it all had to go right, and if it didn’t go right, he’d simply have to just drop dead. And on the seventh day, Switzerland decided to ask, having downed a bit of wine for good measure. “Italy, would you like to, uh, come over to my house for dinner tonight?”
“Sure! What’s the occasion?”
“…I want to spend time with you for a bit, that’s all.” Would you believe him if he told you that was one of the hardest things he had to say in his entire life?
“Okay! See you tonight!”
It was done. That was it. There was no turning back now. Switzerland had prepared everything and he could only hope it was enough. Italy was going to be here soon, so all he had to do was wait. He absentmindedly stared at the little black box resting on the table in front of him; yes, he’d gotten a ring, and yes, Switzerland knew that he couldn’t actually marry Italy. But it wouldn’t hurt to get the point across, right? It couldn’t hurt to give him a ring as a symbol of his love, right?
Switzerland jumped in surprise as his doorbell rang, dread and excitement running through his veins. Already? Italy usually didn’t ring the bell or knock, he always somehow let himself in; Switzerland almost wanted him to just suddenly appear, if only so that he didn’t have to spend the time it took to open the door letting the reality sink in. His heart wasn’t quite as prepared as he hoped. Feigning composure and putting the box in his pocket, he opened the front door, and was immediately nearly knocked over by Italy hugging him and kissing him all over his face (and Switzerland had to restrain himself from screaming when Italy’s kisses got a little too close to his mouth). “Switzerland! I’m so glad to see you!”
Mentally freaking out, Switzerland had to force himself to relax. “It’s nice to see you, too. Come on, dinner’s going to get cold.”
Dinner went by far less awkwardly than he had thought it would; with chatter and laughter over good food, things couldn’t have gone any better than that, it was smooth sailing so far. After dinner, Switzerland remained at the table, partly because Italy was absolutely insistent that he cleaned up as a gesture of gratitude, but mainly to calm his nerves. Now that he was alone, the apprehension he was feeling earlier had come back in full force; his breathing was unsteady, his knees weak, his arms heavy. Had he felt sick, there would’ve been vomit on his sweater already.
Mom’s spaghetti.
“Yoo-hoo, earth to Switzerland!”
Switzerland nearly shrieked, quickly turning around and coming face to face with the current cause of his problems. “Huh?”
“Are you okay? You were spacing out.”
“Yeah.” Switzerland was internally freaking out, he felt so unprepared in spite of his efforts, but he knew what he had to do. “I have to tell you something. It’s really important.”
“Ve?”
“We’re friends, right?”
Italy smiled. “Yeah!”
“We’ll always be friends, no matter what, right,” Switzerland asked, his voice getting quieter.
“Uh-huh!”
“Good. That’s good.” And suddenly he faltered, unable to say anything. All he could do was stare into Italy’s amber eyes (since when had he opened them, anyway?). All the preparations went down the drain in a split second.
He hadn’t thought out how he was going to say it.
The silence hung heavy above them. All that stress and preparation for this very moment and he hadn’t even considered the wording! It’d completely slipped his mind in his earlier frenzy!
“It’s okay,” Italy said, putting one hand on Switzerland’s shoulder, “if you’re not ready to tell me, you don’t have to.”
That gesture which was supposed to be comforting was honestly anything but; he was burning in embarrassment and shame and fear, shaking in his seat. The room felt like it was spinning, his heart was pounding, nothing felt real.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Italy’s voice, despite being right next to him, sounded far away. This wasn’t supposed to be so complicated. This was supposed to be simple. Had he not forgotten to consider how he was going to say it, he wouldn’t be like this, he would’ve been happy right now. But would he have been happy? What if everything was a misunderstanding? What if Italy said no? What Italy didn’t like him that way at all and Switzerland had just misinterpreted everything? The idea of it was enough to make him feel dizzy and sick, enough to send him right to the floor.
“Switzerland!” Italy managed to catch him before he hit his head. They were both on the floor, with Switzerland’s head in Italy’s lap… this wasn’t part of the plan. Italy’s cool hand admittedly felt nice upon Switzerland’s burning forehead, almost nice enough to make him forget about the utter despair he was in. Maybe he could do it some other time, maybe he could just pass this off as him suddenly getting sick and handle this later, after actually preparing himself properly.
“Ve? What’s this?”
Fuck. The box fell out of his pocket on his way to the floor. He grabbed it before Italy could, but it was much too late. Everybody knows what would be in a small, velvety, black box, it’s common knowledge! This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go, but it was best to just rip the band-aid off and get it over with. “I’m sorry about this, it’s just…” Switzerland managed to sit up, along sure to put a few inches between him and the guy currently ruining his evening. “I just…I really like you, I love you, so, um…” Switzerland opened the box, still feeling like he was on fire, not daring to make visual contact with Italy or the tomato shaped ring in the box. “I know we can’t get married, but can you — will you — would you be mine?”
Italy was sitting there and gawking, eyes darting back and forth between Switzerland’s beet red face and the ring. “Really? Do you mean it?”
“Yeah.”
The way that Italy was so quiet was not a good sign. The silence stretched and stretched, to the point where Switzerland almost hoped he’d get rejected just to end his present suffering.
“…You really do?”
“I do.”
The stillness lingered for a few more beats before Italy gathered him in his arms, holding him so softly, so delicately, as if he was fragile. “Me too, I love you, too.”
The relief that hit Switzerland was so profound that he instantly felt drained, he probably would’ve fallen over again had Italy not been holding him. With a surprisingly steady hand, he took the ring out of the box and slipped it onto Italy’s left ring finger. What was there to say now, though? “Im glad”? “Thank you”? Ultimately, he was too drained to think too much of what he was to say next, and settled with a quiet, “It’s okay if you stay the night.”
“Do you want me to,” Italy asked, running a hand Switzerland’s hair.
“Yes. Please. I need you to.”
After no one answered the front door, Liechtenstein used her spare key to let herself in. The house was, for the most part, in its usual pristine state, the only thing out of place being one of the dining chairs lying sideways on the floor. How ominous.
“Big Brother?”
No response.
Her worry grew as she neared his bedroom. Switzerland was not the most charming of people, what he planned to do had to have been difficult. Whether he succeeded or not, she just hoped he wasn’t in terribly low spirits. Or didn’t blow his head off.
Gently knocking on the bedroom door, she quietly opened it, and the sight of her brother and…his boyfriend, she guessed, still sleeping soundly in bed. Smiling, Liechtenstein quietly shut the door. To already be sharing a bed with someone…this was rather quick for him. But hey, he succeeded and was happy, and that was all that really mattered.