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Prussia liked to believe he wasn’t the sort of man who could be swayed by something as simple as fluttering lashes or a pair of pretty eyes. It just wasn’t awesome to turn into putty over a few harmless gestures. And he had a reputation to maintain.

The truth, though, was a little more complicated. He could be swayed by those kinds of things. Easily, even… but only under one very important condition! It had to come from the right person.

And what did “right person” even mean? Well… someone who could make his thoughts stutter and his behavior go weird in the best way. Someone who made him feel like an idiot and he still wanted more of it anyway. In short, someone he had fallen in love with.

Anything from anyone else would slide right off him, forgotten almost immediately. But when it was that person, even the smallest things stopped being… small. They stuck in his head, spreading out like roots, crowding everything else until there wasn’t much room left for anything but them!

And that was the problem! The chances had been so low, and yet somehow the right person had wandered into his life by pure chance and started tossing those small but devastating gestures his way like they meant nothing at all!

And honestly, he had no business reacting like this… but that nation had quite literally sent him to the moon and back with every single one of them!

Now, you may be wondering who exactly had managed to capture his attention so thoroughly... The answer goes back further, about a century or so earlier, in the early 1700s, long before the present-day Regency era. It was then that Prussia first met a nation who, at the time, was still under Spanish rule: Southern Italy.

Their first meeting had been… less than pleasant.

The Italian had been openly hostile, quick to anger, and completely unafraid to make it clear that Prussia’s presence was neither wanted nor appreciated. He hurled every colorful insult he could think of at the Prussian’s expense, made no effort to tone down his disdain, and repeatedly insisted he hated Prussia’s attempts at friendliness. Like a feral cat cornered by someone trying to pet it, all hissing and swiping claws, acting as though it were about to be dragged off to its execution rather than treated with anything resembling care.

And yet, despite all of that, or maybe because of it, Prussia found himself drawn to the southern nation. At first, he couldn’t quite put a name to it. It only became clearer with time, especially in those moments when the same gestures he insisted, normally, meant nothing to him started affecting him anyway, proving the situation was anything but ordinary.

It was during one of the many times Romano told him to “screw off” that Prussia finally understood his feelings. By then, he was already tired of being brushed off so harshly by Southern Italy, especially after all his attempts to be friendly. Something in him finally snapped at the idea of just standing there and taking it. He wasn’t going to be the Italian’s personal punching bag. So he went to confront him.

But the moment he found the brunet and stepped closer—closer than was probably wise for an argument, ready to finally say what was on his mind—Romano lifted his gaze to meet his. And just like that, everything in Prussia went blank. Every word he had prepared died in his throat.

Romano’s eyes, which so often refused to meet his, were locked on his now. His expression was the same as always, brows drawn, mouth set in that familiar irritated pout, but there was something else too. A faint flush had crept into his cheeks.

Prussia stared, and only then did he truly notice the color in Romano’s eyes. They weren’t just green like he had always assumed, but a mix of green and brown… like sunlit honey spread over mint-green leaves. When Romano blinked slowly, dark lashes lowering and lifting again, the green stood out even more against the brown. Prussia couldn’t pull his gaze away even if he tried.

And as he kept looking into Romano’s eyes—because, really, they were so beautiful, and who would even choose to look away?—something in his chest twisted. His heartbeat picked up, heat rushed into his face, and his palms turned uncomfortably damp inside his gloves.

After a long, awkward pause of just staring at each other, Romano finally pulled away. Prussia didn’t stop him. He didn’t even speak. He just stood there as Romano muttered something under his breath and walked off, leaving him behind.

And only after a moment of standing there alone, staring… like an idiot after the direction Romano had walked off in, did it properly sink in that his heart was still racing, his face was still hot, and that strange tightness in his chest still hadn’t gone away. Then, after a couple more seconds of thinking it over, he realized it: he might have fallen in love with Romano.

And, as it turned out… he had.

Now… Prussia had expected that after their last interaction, Romano would only hurl more insults at him and curse him off completely. It had been… awkward, after all. But to his surprise, Romano did the opposite.

Instead, the southern nation started avoiding him. His gaze drifted away far more often than before, always fixed on the ground rather than in Prussia’s direction. He also grew quieter whenever they ended up in the same space, which felt strange. Romano was usually snarky or irritated no matter the situation, something Prussia had experienced more than once.

But then… even that changed.

In the time that followed, whenever Prussia found himself at Spain’s place, whether for business or simply to visit his friend, Romano would be there too. Of course he would. He lived there at the time. At first, the distance between them remained, Romano still hesitant to approach. But little by little, in a way Prussia could not quite pinpoint, that avoidance faded away. And somewhere along the way, they became something he could almost call… friends.

Romano still called him names, of course, and it didn’t take much to set off his temper. That hadn’t changed. Yet there was something different in his behaviour now. He was more welcoming, even a little sweeter with Prussia. And that alone was enough to send the German’s heart soaring… along with the way he could never quite get enough of those beautiful hazel eyes…

Still, Prussia wasn’t entirely sure Romano would return his feelings if he ever confessed. So for a while, he kept things as they were between them. Friendly.

But you see, when you carry sentiments like that, it becomes harder to keep them in as time passes. They build in your chest, pressing tighter and tighter until they’re almost suffocating. And sooner or later, the only way to breathe again is to let them out.

After keeping those feelings bottled up for far too long, turning them over in his mind more times than he cared to count, Prussia finally grew sick of it. He couldn’t keep going like this. And so, he made a decision. He was going to tell Romano how he felt!

Whether Romano returned his affection or not didn’t change the most important part: Prussia wanted to be honest. He wanted it off his chest, once and for all. Though… he couldn’t deny he hoped for a good outcome. Rejection would sting far more than he liked to admit.

During a period when Prussia had fewer responsibilities, he decided it was the right moment to finally speak his feelings to the southern nation. With that thought in mind, he went to his superior and asked for permission to travel to Spain. Fortunately, the request was approved.

Now… why go to Spain, when his real intention was to see Romano, especially now that Southern Italy had long since gained its independence and was no longer under Spanish rule?

The answer was straightforward enough: Romano, along with several former Spanish territories, still found themselves drawn back to Spain’s residence more often than not. Independence had changed their status, but not so easily the habits formed over years spent under the same roof. Perhaps it was familiarity they struggled to let go of, or perhaps something more subtle… an attachment to a shared past they did not fully wish to abandon.

Either way, Prussia didn’t mind the detour. If Romano was more likely to be in Spain than in Italy, then Spain was where he would go.

With that decided, he sent a letter ahead informing Spain of his arrival in a couple of weeks, made his preparations, and not long after, set out on his journey south.

It took him, true to his letter, a couple of weeks to ride from Prussia to Spain on horseback. Not that he minded the journey. He actually liked long trips.

He enjoyed stopping at inns and watching the towns change as he traveled, from grand, well-kept places to quiet countryside villages. He liked sampling the food along the road, each region offering something different depending on where he ended up. But more than anything, he loved the speed of a horse beneath him, racing the wind, especially when he rode alone, without his superior or the usual attendants following behind.

Like this time. His boss had actually let him go to Spain alone, as long as he didn’t cause trouble and endured the usual lecture beforehand. Not that he intended to do anything worth worrying about. Honestly, the old man could relax for once.

When Prussia finally arrived in Spain, he headed straight for the countryside instead of the capital. The two had exchanged letters beforehand, and in them the Spaniard had explained he would be staying at one of his estates rather than the royal palace, so they could spend time together without unnecessary interference from his officials. Which was perfect!

It was nearing evening when the red-eyed man reached the estate. Even after the long journey, a restless energy kept him going, like he couldn’t quite calm down until he saw Romano again.

He had thought of him the entire way there… of Romano’s voice, of those constant insults the Italian would throw his way, which had once offended him slightly, but now only amused him. The dark brown hair the Mediterranean man possessed, his olive, sun-kissed skin, and all those small habits that had taken up space in Prussia’s mind: the way Romano bit his lip when annoyed, puffed his cheeks when things didn’t go his way, or turned as red as a lobster when embarrassed.

And his eyes… God, especially his eyes. Prussia exhaled slowly through his nose at the thought alone. That striking forest green, layered with soft hints of brown that seemed to swirl like rich soil in a living forest. He could close his eyes and still see them perfectly. He was fairly certain he had fallen far too hard for them… but could anyone really blame him? Romano’s eyes were unforgettable. Beautiful, really. Everything about him was.

The German sighed in a slightly dazed way as he neared the estate entrance. Ah, he really couldn’t wait to see the Italian.

Dismounting his horse, the Prussian stepped forward and handed the reins to one of the Spanish workers stationed nearby, trusting them to see the animal properly cared for after the long, exhausting journey. Only then did he enter the estate, where several attendants greeted him and guided him through the main doors. One of them hurried off to announce his arrival.

A few minutes later, from one of the branching corridors the messenger had taken, a woman appeared. A familiar green bow was neatly tied in her hair. Ah, Belgium!

Belgium’s eyes lit up the moment she saw the Prussian, and she hurried toward him with a warm smile.

“Ah, Prussia, you’ve finally arrived!” she exclaimed, her hands fluttering with excited little gestures before she blinked up at him, suddenly a bit more shy. “Can I give you a hug?”

Prussia grinned. “Hey, Bel,” he replied happily, already opening his arms. “Bring it in!”

At that, Belgium stepped forward and hugged him tightly, with so much warmth and joy. Prussia had known her for some time through Spain, the same way he had known Romano and her brothers, and she had always struck him as someone very, very sweet and lovely. A genuinely good friend to have around. It wasn’t hard to see why his friend had grown fond of her.

After a moment, she pulled back, though she was still smiling. “How was your trip?” she asked.

“Ah, pretty good, pretty good,” Prussia hummed. “Riding through the countryside is always nice, so I had fun. I’m just a bit tired, I guess… but I’ll rest tonight.”

Belgium nodded, then stepped slightly to the side, glancing toward the still-open entrance of the estate. After a brief pause, she turned back to him, tilting her head. “You came alone?” she asked, a little surprised. “No attendants?”

“Yeah,” Prussia said with a small nod. “I wanted a proper getaway. No prodding, no rules.” He let out a short laugh.

Belgium gave a soft giggle in response. “Ah, how lovely then!” she said, before gesturing for him to follow. “Come inside.”

He did.

As they walked through a particularly wide corridor, the red-eyed man spoke up again. “So… you’re staying with Spain on his vacation, I see. Just the two of you here?”

It wasn’t meant to sound teasing, but the blonde clearly took it that way. She turned toward him at once, face flushing faintly as she waved her hands in protest. “Eh? Oh, no, no, don’t be silly!” she said quickly. “It would be rather… strange for me to be alone with Spain… at his estate… in the Spanish countryside… alone…”

Prussia noticed she had said “alone” twice in her flustered explanation, but he let it pass without comment. “So then,” he asked instead, “you’re here with your brothers?”

Her shoulders relaxed almost immediately at that, and she nodded with a bright smile. “Mhm! And dear Romano joined us too! All the way from Italy! He’s really such a sweetie!”

Prussia lifted a brow, feigning mild surprise despite already suspecting as much. “Oh, really? Southern Italy’s here too? How unexpected.” That, of course, was a lie. It was entirely expected.

Belgium gave a vigorous nod. “Yes, yes! Spain wrote to us saying he’s taking a couple of weeks off and invited us to come along and relax as well. You know how demanding nation life can be!” She brought a hand to her cheek and let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, Spain is just so kind and caring… always thinking of others like that!”

Prussia glanced at her with an amused lift of his brow. After a brief pause, Belgium blinked, as if realizing she had drifted off track.

“A-anyways!” she said quickly, shaking her head with an awkward chuckle. “Romano is the type to enjoy vacations, and that’s partly why he’s here. And maybe… though he’d never admit it… like the rest of us, it’s also because it reminds him of our time at the Spanish court.”

Prussia tilted his head slightly. “You don’t say?”

Belgium’s expression softened. “My brother would call those… less than pleasant times. And I understand why. Being dependent on another nation, missing your homeland…” Her gaze dropped briefly. “But even so, I can’t say it was all bad. For me… for us, it was actually quite memorable.”

A faint, wistful smile touched her lips. “Spain was a good nation to be under. He hasn’t changed much, really… still just as kind as he was back then. It almost felt like we were one big family…”

Her voice trailed off. When she looked up again, she seemed to catch herself and gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “Ah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you with all that!”

Prussia immediately shook his head. “No, no, you’re not boring me at all!”

At those words, the Belgian woman gave Prussia a soft smile that remained for a moment before her expression brightened back into its usual cheer. She clasped her hands together. “Oh, but it’s even better that you decided to join Spain here as well! The more the merrier!” she said lightly.

Then she suddenly gasped, as if a thought had just struck her. Turning back toward Prussia with fresh excitement, she added, “Right, speaking of more and merrier… Spain actually has another guest here besides us and you!”

Prussia blinked, caught off guard. Unlike Southern Italy’s presence, this wasn’t something he had been expecting. “Another guest?” he echoed, skepticism edging into his tone. “Who?”

Belgium’s eyes lit up. “Oh, he’s such a fun nation! A real bundle of joy and energy! Very lively, always full of excitement!” She gestured vaguely, as though that alone should have been enough explanation. “And his economy is doing really well these days, too!”

Then she paused, tilting her head slightly, as if she had just remembered something important. “Oh, but you already know him quite well!”

Prussia stared at the blonde woman, taken aback by her words. “I… do?” he asked slowly, confusion creeping into his voice as he tried to think of any nation that matched her description.

Before he could piece it together, however, Belgium nodded and supplied the answer herself. “Why, of course! It’s America! You know, the young nation you once trained and disciplined, who later gained independence from England thanks to your efforts?”

Prussia nearly stumbled mid-step at that, though he managed to keep himself upright. His red eyes widened. “America?” he repeated, then quickly added, “Uh… really?”

When Belgium nodded without hesitation, he frowned. “And what exactly is that kid doing here?” he asked, folding his arms. He hoped this wouldn’t interfere with his plans to finally speak with Romano. “Did Spain invite him or something? I didn’t know they were close.”

“Oh, no, it’s not quite like that!” Belgium replied with a light laugh.

“You see, America first went to the Spanish capital. His boss sent him on a mission, something about negotiations between their nations.” She waved a hand as if the details hardly mattered. “But when he arrived, Spain had already left for the countryside.”

“So instead of turning back, America asked for directions and simply… came here,” she continued, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Completely unannounced. He didn’t want to return without finishing his task. He was worried about disappointing his boss. Poor thing… he’s still a young nation. He hasn’t quite learned that such matters can wait.” She sighed softly, though her tone stayed warm.

“Anyway, he arrived a few days ago, and Spain… being the angel he is…” she placed a touch of emphasis on the word, “set his own rest aside to meet with him properly and see to everything America needed. Once they’d reached an agreement, he even offered to let him stay as long as he liked, after such a long journey.”

Her expression softened, almost reverent. “Oh, isn’t Spain just the best?”

“Ah,” Prussia replied, still slightly taken aback by the news that America was also staying at Spain’s estate.

After a moment, though, he realized it didn’t change what he had come here to do. He still intended to tell Romano how he felt, everything he had kept to himself for far too long. A plus-one nation tagging along wouldn’t stand in his way.

Besides, America was a good kid. Back when Prussia had trained him, he had been determined and easy to work with, so there was no real issue with him being here. And, as Belgium had said, the more the merrier.

With that, Prussia gave a small shake of his head, brushing the unnecessary thoughts aside as a grin returned. He glanced toward the Belgian woman leading the way. “Yeah, Spain’s great!”

Belgium lit up at that and continued guiding them through the corridors of the estate.

After a few minutes, they reached one of the estate’s drawing rooms, where, according to Belgium, all the nations had gathered. She pushed the door open with enthusiasm, Prussia just behind her, and announced in a bright, excited tone, “Prussia’s here!”

At once, the room’s attention turned to him. He barely had time to greet anyone before Spain sprang up from his seat and closed the distance in seconds, pulling him into an embrace just as energetic as Belgium’s earlier one, only far tighter.

“Aaaaahhhh! Amigo! (Friend) You’ve finally arrived!” Spain exclaimed, beaming. He pulled back, though his hands remained firmly on Prussia’s shoulders, and immediately began shaking him with such enthusiasm it felt like he was trying to rattle a bottle before opening it. “It’s so good to see you!”

Prussia laughed, though the motion quickly made him a bit dizzy. He managed to pry Spain’s hands away to steady himself, but his grin never faded. “It’s very good to see you too!” he replied, just as warmly.

“Sorry I didn’t greet you at the door,” the Spaniard said, a sheepish look flickering across his face. “As you can see, I’ve got quite a bit of company… and a host has to entertain!” His gaze drifted to Belgium at Prussia’s side, softening into a grateful smile. “Thank you, Bel, for covering for me.”

The blonde lifted a hand to her cheek and gave a small, modest wave. “Aw, it’s really nothing, honestly!”

Prussia let out a short chuckle. “It’s fine, like she said. No trouble at all.” His grin tilted as he glanced at her. “Besides, being greeted by her is a pleasure. For a moment there, I thought the sun itself had come to the door! She’s that bright.”

“You’re exaggerating!” Belgium shot back at once, though she rolled her eyes as a faint smile betrayed her.

The Spaniard nodded in agreement. “He’s not entirely wrong. That smile of yours could outshine the sun, couldn’t it?”

Her face went bright red in an instant. She shook her head quickly, hands rising in flustered protest. “Oh, come on, you two!”

Both men laughed, but before either could add anything else, two more figures stepped into view and slipped into the conversation.

“Prussia, hi!” a shorter blond man called, his tone more reserved than Spain’s or Belgium’s, though still friendly.

Prussia’s gaze shifted toward him, and he returned the greeting with a cheerful smile. “Ah, hey, Luxembourg!”

A second blond man stood beside Luxembourg, taller, with a stiffer posture and a distinctly unimpressed expression. Netherlands, of course. His eyes settled on Prussia with very obvious disapproval.

As you could tell, Netherlands wasn’t exactly a fan of Prussia. Maybe it had something to do with the white-haired man’s incursion into his lands back in 1787… or maybe it was simply because Prussia tended to be loud, a bit too confident, and occasionally obnoxious. Though, in Prussia’s opinion, that wasn’t a flaw. That was just part of being awesome… and you couldn’t be awesome without being a little loud.

“At least it’s not the blond one…” Netherlands muttered under his breath, clearly referring to France.

Prussia snorted. “Hi to you too, Netherlands. Still haven’t learned how to smile?”

Netherlands’ eyes narrowed at the comment, but before he could fire back, his siblings stepped in.

“Don’t be rude, brother!” Luxembourg chided quietly, nudging him with a small shove.

“Yeah!” Belgium added far more forcefully, pointing at him with a frown. “Prussia is a great guy! And besides, you shouldn’t judge Spain’s taste in friends. How would you feel if he judged yours?”

Luxembourg raised a hand to his mouth, unable to hold back a soft chuckle. “He doesn’t really have any friends to be judged off of…”

The moment the words left his mouth, Netherlands shot him a sharp glare. Luxembourg immediately made a small startled sound and slipped behind Belgium for cover.

“Okay…” Spain said at last, clearing his throat before clasping his hands together. “My friend here has just arrived after a long journey. I imagine being crowded like this is rather tiring for him.”

“Oh!” Belgium and Luxembourg said at the same time.

“Ah, sorry, Prussia!” Belgium added quickly.

“Sorry…” Luxembourg echoed, a little quieter.

Prussia shook his head, waving a hand as if to brush it off. “It’s fine! You guys are fun.”

Netherlands let out a small sigh, clearly unimpressed, while both of his younger siblings immediately shot him disapproving looks before turning back to Prussia with polite smiles. Spain, for his part, was still smiling warmly his way as well.

The German almost couldn’t help but notice how merry, warm, and downright endearing the three of them were… and then there was the Netherlands, doing his best to drain the mood from the room. Haha. He hadn’t changed much since the last time Prussia had seen him. Then again, neither of them really had. A faint grin tugged at Prussia’s mouth.

Still, even while surrounded by their company, his attention started to drift. His gaze slid across the room, passing over the gathered nations, searching for the one person he was most eager to see. And soon enough, he found him.

Romano sat on one of the couches in the drawing room, already looking in his direction. It almost felt as though he had been waiting for Prussia to notice him.

When their eyes met, Romano blinked once, then tilted his head slightly. A few strands of hair slipped over his eyes; he huffed under his breath and brushed them aside, only for them to fall right back into place again. It struck Prussia as unfairly endearing.

After a brief pause, Romano lifted a hand and gave the red-eyed man a small wave.

At that, Prussia felt his heart melt, like ice left too long beneath the summer sun. Oh, Southern Italy… he thought, a little too fondly for his own pride. Even after all this time, you still set my heart on fire!

Still watching him, far too openly lovestruck, if he were honest, Prussia lifted a hand in return, mirroring the silent greeting.

At that, Romano’s mouth curved, just slightly, into a faint smile. So subtle it might have gone unnoticed by anyone else. But Prussia saw it. And something in his chest tightened in a way that felt almost too good to be normal. God, he had missed him.

His smile. His gaze… it could turn condescending and yet somehow still soften in a way that left him weak in the knees. And his voice… honey-sweet, at least to Prussia, even if others would argue otherwise. The worst part was that he hadn’t even heard it yet…

He found himself wanting, no, needing to hear Romano speak.

The white-haired nation cleared his throat to draw the attention of those around him. It worked. All eyes turned his way, confusion surfacing across their faces.

“Actually, I’d like to sit down. I guess the road’s worn me out a bit.” he said with a small chuckle.

In truth, he wasn’t all that tired. He simply wanted to sit next to Romano and talk to him. Romano, who had not approached him yet, most likely because he was already surrounded by so many people.

Spain immediately nodded at the request and instructed the others to take a seat as well. They complied without protest.

Prussia, intending to sit beside the Italian, started toward where the brunet was seated. But before he could take more than a few steps, a flash of blond suddenly cut across his path. He stopped short, barely keeping himself from colliding with whoever, or whatever, had just appeared.

Regaining his balance, he narrowed his eyes at the sight… blond hair, blue eyes, glasses…

Wait…

Recognition clicked into place, and his expression shifted in mild surprise. He didn’t get a chance to react further before the figure started speaking.

“MAN! The great Prussia in the flesh!”

The voice was loud enough to turn heads. The American in front of him looked almost starstruck, blue eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

Prussia blinked once, then slowly remembered what Belgium had mentioned earlier… that America would be here too. Right. He’d nearly forgotten.

Prussia glanced at him for a short moment, then let a small, friendly smile form on his face. “Hey there, America! Long time no see!”

Those words seemed to make America even more excited than he already was. “Oh my God! You remember me?” he said, sounding overjoyed, like he was about to burst into tears at any moment.

Prussia gave a short, slightly awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah, of course. I didn’t train many nations, you know? I remember the ones I did. And you were a tough, determined kid.”

“Waaaah, tough and determined?” America echoed dramatically, as if he’d just been handed a trophy. “I can’t believe it! The great Prussia thinks I’m tough and determined!”

Prussia snorted, clearly amused despite himself. “Congrats, by the way,” he added, a bit more upbeat, “on the economic situation you’ve managed to build in such a short time.”

The praise seemed to only make the American even more enthusiastic. “Pssshhh! It’s nothing really!” he said, waving it off, though the happiness was obvious in his tone. “I just tried to follow in your absolutely amazing footsteps… becoming so powerful and renowned in such a short time!”

Now… Prussia was the type who thrived on praise, and this was no exception; it fed his pride, reinforcing his sense of “awesomeness.” But at that moment, he wasn’t paying much attention to the compliments America was throwing his way, for his thoughts were fixed on another nation…

His gaze flicked from the blond in front of him to Romano, who still sat in the same spot on the couch, staring his way with those big eyes of his.

Ah, so cute!

He was about to suggest to America that they sit down—he wanted to go talk to Southern Italy already, especially since the others had taken their seats—when Spain cut in. “Okay, America, let’s let Prussia here breathe and rest a little, no?”

At Spain’s words, America immediately took a few hurried steps back, hands lifting in apology. “Ah! Sorry, man! Right, of course! The great Prussia needs his rest to keep being his absolute best self! Not that you aren’t the best when you’re tired either!”

Prussia let out a short, awkward laugh. “It’s fine,” he said, waving it off. “And you can drop the honorifics.”

For a second, America looked like he might actually pass out. “No way—! This is a historical moment!” he blurted, clutching at his chest. “Prussia… just Prussia… wow! That sounds so cool! It’s almost like we’re friends!”

Prussia shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “We can be.”

“Man, you’re seriously going to make me cry!”

“Alright, America,” Spain cut in again, more firmly this time, “it’s time to calm down and sit down.”

Despite still being as giddy as a hummingbird chasing nectar, the American gave a vigorous nod. “Right!”

Prussia shot Spain a quick smile in thanks before his attention snapped right back to Romano. The thought of sitting next to him alone was enough to lift his mood tenfold.

Without wasting another second, he headed straight for the couch, eyes locked on the Italian. Nothing was standing in his way… or so he thought. Just as he got closer, someone suddenly stepped in front of him and dropped down beside Southern Italy instead. America.

“Uh…?” The German stopped abruptly, confusion threading into his voice. This was the last thing he had expected. He blinked, thrown off, staring at the blond in front of him in disorientation.

“Alright, I took my seat!” America announced proudly, completely unaware of the tragedy he’d just caused. Then he turned, grinning at the man beside him. “Romano, man, you don’t mind me sitting here, no?”

Romano blinked, visibly taken aback. His brows knit together as he looked at America, then briefly flicked his gaze toward Prussia, who could only stare back, completely at a loss for words. He glanced around the room at the other nations, as if expecting someone… anyone, to step in or comment on America suddenly taking the seat next to him. But no one did.

With no help coming, his attention slowly returned to the blond beside him. “Uhm… no… I don’t.” he muttered at last, a small, defeated sigh slipping out before he could stop it. It wasn’t hard to tell he’d been hoping someone else would be sitting next to him.

America, of course, didn’t seem to notice the strained way Romano had said it and took the words at face value. “Great!” he beamed, entirely unbothered.

Prussia stayed standing for a few more seconds before letting out a resigned sigh of his own. He tried not to let it get to him… that America had literally taken the spot he’d been aiming for, right next to Romano. Still, a flicker of irritation sparked in his chest.

But then… he caught the way the Italian looked at him from beneath his bangs, and whatever frustration he’d been holding onto softened almost immediately.

With a small smile sent Romano’s way, he instead moved to the opposite couch and sat beside Luxembourg. Leaning forward, he rested his elbow on his knee and propped his head in his hand, his gaze settling on the Italian across from him in a fond manner. At least from here… he could still stare at him.

Spain and the other nations soon drifted into a full conversation, trading questions, answers, and stories. Prussia joined in as well, as did Romano.

During it, Prussia ended up speaking directly with Romano, much to the German’s delight, asking him a few simple questions… mostly about his brother and how things were going back home. Nothing serious, just small talk. Still, he found himself overly excited by the exchange, probably because he was simply so glad to hear the southern nation’s voice.

Prussia, however, wasn’t left in peace to daydream about the Italian’s sweet voice for long. America quickly latched onto him, firing off question after question about his past war stories, his campaigns, the state of his troops, and every other adventure he could possibly squeeze out of him. At first, Prussia was more than willing to indulge him; he never minded talking about his so-called “great” adventures. In fact, he seemed almost flattered by the attention.

As the hours passed, however, his enthusiasm began to fade… though not completely. His thoughts kept drifting back to Romano. Man, he wanted, more than anything, to tell him how deeply he cared, to let his feelings spill out in words instead of keeping them locked in his chest.

He knew there would be time for it later, that nothing was truly rushing him… and yet that knowledge didn’t help much. This was exactly the kind of thing that made “later” feel far too far away, even when it wasn’t. Ah, he needed to pour his heart out as soon as possible!

Belgium was now explaining, with real enthusiasm, the secret to making the perfect waffles and how the chocolate from her lands had the finest taste in all of Europe. And as interesting as it might have been, Prussia couldn’t bring himself to focus on any of it… his attention was completely taken by Southern Italy.

He needed to get Romano alone if he wanted to tell him how he felt. Simple enough in theory, far less so in practice… Still, as he watched the Italian, who looked slightly bored, his eyes half-lidded, an idea suddenly struck him, and his expression shifted into one of determination. He knew exactly how he was going to get Romano alone!

Shifting where he stood, Prussia straightened up and tapped his foot against the wooden floor. At the movement, Romano’s gaze drifted toward him. Once he had the Italian’s attention, Prussia subtly gestured toward him, as though silently asking if he was bored, despite it already being fairly obvious.

Romano squinted at him, not really understanding at first what the gestures meant. After a couple of seconds, though, it clicked. With that understanding, he gave a small nod in confirmation. Awesome!

The German responded with a quick smile before subtly nodding toward the door, as though to suggest, “Let’s ditch the rest.” It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy everyone else’s company. He just wanted to talk to Romano in private… one-on-one.

Southern Italy followed his gaze, and when he realized the red-eyed man was pointing toward the door, he looked back at him with a brief, surprised expression. It didn’t last long, though. He quickly glanced at America beside him, grimaced slightly, then returned his attention to Prussia and gave a nod that clearly said, “Yeah, let’s ditch them.”

Oh, yes! Prussia internally exclaimed. He would have pumped a fist in victory too, if that wouldn’t have drawn unwanted attention.

Steeling himself, he waited for a brief lull in the others’ conversation. The moment an opening appeared, he cleared his throat, earning their attention.

“Sorry,” the Prussian said first, then added, “It’s been real fun with you guys, but my head’s a bit fuzzy. Might be from the long journey…” Not true, of course, but it was a perfect excuse to get him and Romano out of this room without anyone following.

At that, Belgium gasped, “Oh no!”

Her younger sibling quickly echoed her concern, turning toward him as well. “Oh, are you feeling sickly?”

Prussia glanced at the blond and waved a dismissive hand. “Ah, no, no. Not sick. Just a little lightheaded, that’s all.”

“Maybe you need some fresh air. Should I open a window?” Spain suggested.

But the white-haired man cut him off almost immediately. “No, it’s alright. I’ll just go outside for a bit… if that’s okay with all of you?” he asked, a touch cautious, but was met with mostly positive reactions. Well… almost.

“Of course, amigo.”

“Yeah, no problem at all!”

“If it’ll make you feel better...”

“…Whatever. I don’t care.”

(If it wasn’t already obvious, those comments were made in this order: Spain, Belgium, Luxembourg, and the Netherlands.)

“Great!” Prussia exclaimed, standing up and quickly straightening his clothes before fixing his posture. “Then… I’ll be back in a bit.”

The others gave small nods of agreement.

As Prussia started toward the door, he glanced at Romano as if to say, “Come on.” Romano picked up on it, hesitating for a moment before finally pushing himself up as well, much to Prussia’s satisfaction.

“Ah… it feels a bit too stuffy in here for me, too…” the Italian admitted, drawing a few surprised glances from those nearby.

“Really?” Spain asked, surprised.

Romano didn’t answer. Prussia spoke up instead. “If you want… you can come outside. With me. It’s not stuffy there.” he offered.

“I suppose I will, then… go outside as well…” Romano said, a bit awkwardly… but it would do!

The Netherlands shot the two nations a skeptical look, but that was the extent of it. Aside from a few surprised glances from the others, nothing else stood in their way.

Romano stepped toward Prussia, and they were just about to head for the door together… when something abruptly stopped them. A certain… American voice.

“Hold up!” America exclaimed as he stood up. “It’s real nice outside, and Romano is right… it’s gotten pretty stuffy in here. So how about we all go outside for some fresh air with him and Prussia?”

At those words, both Prussia and Romano blinked in surprise. Prussia especially froze, because he had been absolutely certain he’d just secured a moment alone with Romano. Why had America suggested this? Please, let everyone else say no… please—

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea!” Belgium suddenly chimed in brightly.

Prussia felt like he’d been stabbed in the back. No… Belgium… you were supposed to be on my side!

Spain agreed next. Then Luxembourg. And then, to Prussia’s utter disbelief, the Netherlands gave a small shrug and nodded as well. Even him?

Prussia stared, internally screaming as the plan he hadn’t even had the chance to take advantage of collapsed right before his eyes!

“Then it is settled, Prussia!” Spain suddenly said as he jumped to his feet. “You’re not going to be alone outside!”

Not that he would’ve even been alone in the first place—he would’ve had Romano with him!—but now it seemed the entire group was tagging along as well…

Prussia glanced over at the Italian, who only gave a small shrug in response. The German let out a sigh of defeat, though a small, forced smile still tugged at his lips as he looked toward Spain and muttered, “How… great.”

And so, the red-eyed man soon found himself in the estate’s vast backyard, not accompanied by just Southern Italy like he would have preferred, but by every other nation staying there. And sure, technically nothing was stopping him from talking to Romano. Well… nothing except America. Because America was standing right beside him, and he just kept talking. And talking. And talking…

Prussia shot the blond a conflicted look. As fun as America could be, this was really not the moment. He had been hoping to speak to Romano about matters of the heart, and that kind of conversation did not work with an audience… especially not one like this.

And America was not even just a spectator! Spectators stayed quiet and observed. This one kept talking!

“So yeah, and that’s why I’m totally striving for that heroic persona, you know?” America suddenly finished his explanation about… something. Prussia hadn’t really been paying attention.

He glanced at him. America was staring back with an enthusiastic grin. “Uh… yeah, I guess I do… know…” Prussia replied with an awkward chuckle. He didn’t actually know what he was supposed to know, but admitting he hadn’t been listening seemed like a bad idea. Best to just nod along.

America laughed. “Well yeah, of course you would! You’re like, totally a hero!”

“Hero? Pshhh.” Prussia waved a hand dismissively. “I wouldn’t give myself that title. I didn’t do many things that could be called heroic. Maybe more… villain-inclined.” His thoughts briefly drifted to his Teutonic Knights days, to hunting down those who didn’t follow his faith. Strange times.

“No! You totally did heroic stuff! Like conquering and destroying enemies!” America insisted.

Prussia blinked at him, visibly unsure. He opened his mouth to argue… that was definitely not what he would call heroic… but then reconsidered. There was no winning that conversation. America could go on forever…

“…Yeah,” he said at last, a little resigned. “You’re right. I was a… hero.”

“Exactly!” America replied enthusiastically, before suddenly turning to Southern Italy and nudging the brunet.

Romano shot him a sharp look, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a small pout at the unwanted contact.

“Right, Romano?” America asked.

“…Right.” Romano replied flatly, glancing between the two nations. He clearly wasn’t interested in entertaining the conversation either, Prussia noted.

As America moved on to another topic Prussia had no real interest in, his attention drifted. His gaze dropped to the grass, watching the blades sway in the wind. A moment later, footsteps and a voice nearby pulled his attention back up.

“Romano!” Luxembourg called out as he came closer.

Romano turned slightly toward the blond, letting out a small, distracted, “Hm?”

Luxembourg gave an awkward laugh. “Sorry to pull you away from your…” His eyes flicked briefly toward Prussia and America before returning to Romano. “…company. But I need your help with something.”

At that, Romano glanced at the two nations he’d been reluctantly stuck with, then back to Luxembourg and, without hesitation, or even bothering to ask what the request was, muttered, “Yes. Whatever it is, my answer is yes.”

Luxembourg visibly brightened. “Great!”

The German, on the other hand, did his best to keep his expression neutral, though it felt a bit like he’d just been kicked in the stomach. Romano! Whyyyyy? Why agree to leave him here… alone… with America…! And fine, that wasn’t even the worst part. The real problem was this: how was he supposed to pour his heart out to Romano if there wouldn’t be a Romano next to him to pour his heart out to?

Man, this was so unfair…

Luxembourg happily dragged the southern nation away, and Prussia watched Romano go with a look that bordered on a lost dog searching for its owner.

After a long moment of staring, however, he finally tore his gaze away and let out a sigh, forcing himself to relax. It was fine, he told himself. He still had plenty of time to confess to Southern Italy. The fact that he wanted to do it as soon as possible was a separate issue… but definitely not his fault! Feelings like this weren’t exactly easy to keep bottled up. Anyone would struggle with it…

Still, his eyes drifted after Romano again before he could stop himself…

In the distance, Luxembourg and the southern Italian were trying, without much success, it seemed, to get the Netherlands to stop glaring at… something. Prussia frowned slightly at the sight. What was he even staring at like that?

Curious, the red-eyed man followed the Dutchman’s line of sight. His gaze settled on Spain and Belgium, who wandered through a field of flowers. Spain plucked a small bouquet and handed it to her, and Belgium seemed to grow flustered at the gesture.

Ah… so that was it.

The Netherlands, then, was the overprotective older brother type. Though, really, he had nothing to worry about. As far as romance went, Spain was about the best choice Belgium could make.

Prussia’s attention, however, didn’t stay long on that thought. As his eyes lingered on the Spanish man and the Belgian woman in the distance, a sudden idea crossed his mind…

Flowers… huh?

He mulled it over. Hey… what if he gave the nation he was head over heels for flowers, too? What if he gave Romano flowers? And then… yeah, yeah… he could pull him aside somewhere quieter, away from everyone else, and finally tell him how he felt…

Prussia straightened at the thought, suddenly energized. Yes! That was brilliant! The most awesome plan in the world! There was no way it could fail!

With a determined look on his face, the white-haired man pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning on. He straightened his coat, then turned to the nation still beside him, who was watching him with obvious curiosity, and cleared his throat.

“It was great talking to you, America. But I’m gonna head into the flower field.” He gestured toward the stretch of blooms behind him.

The blond blinked, following the motion before looking back at him with surprise. “The flower field? Why?”

Prussia let out a small, slightly awkward chuckle. “No big reason. Just… wanna pick some flowers for a… friend. Uh… it’s a nice thing to do. And, uh, there’s nice flowers here and all.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping it didn’t come off as weird. Or uncool. Actually… no, wait. Picking flowers for someone was totally cool. Thoughtful, even. Yeah.

America, thankfully, didn’t seem to overthink it. “Awh man! So that’s what awesome people do! Get their pals flowers!”

“Well, I guess you could say that.” Prussia replied, nodding a bit too quickly. He gestured again toward the field. “Anyway, I’ll be on my way. Catch you later!” And with that, he turned and walked into the sea of flowers.

The Spanish countryside was full of flowers! Red poppies, purple irises, rockrose, even wild herbs like thyme and rosemary. They spread across the fields in thick patches, easy to spot from a distance. But Prussia wasn’t interested in those. He was looking for carnations.

They didn’t grow in large groups like the others. You had to search for them between the taller plants, where they hid in small clusters, easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention. Still, he knew they were worth the effort. They were beautiful, and more importantly, they were Romano’s favourites!

Romano had told him once, a while back… Prussia remembered it vividly, and it had stuck with him ever since…

A few decades ago, in the royal gardens of the Spanish palace, the Italian had been crouched among the flowerbeds, completely absorbed in staring at something. Prussia had noticed from a distance and wandered over, curiosity getting the better of him.

“What are you looking at, South?” he had asked.

Romano barely spared him a glance, frowning as he snapped, “None of your business!” Back then, he’d been a lot more hostile toward him. They were only just starting to get along.

The Prussian, however, hadn’t been put off. He simply crouched beside him, leaning in to see what had caught his attention. “You looking at the flowers?” he guessed, eyeing the garden.

Romano clicked his tongue and waved him off. “No! Now go!”

Prussia raised a brow, unconvinced. “Not the flowers, then… the, uh, rocks?” he tried.

That earned him an angry look. “Rocks?! Who the hell stares at rocks?!”

Prussia laughed. “You’d be surprised. Plenty of people do! Geologists!”

Romano huffed. “Yeah, well, I’m not one of them.”

“Then what?” the red-eyed man pressed, tilting his head. “…Bugs? You into that sort of thing?”

“Bugs?!” Romano echoed, more offended than before. He jabbed a finger at himself. “Do I look like someone who cares about centipedes and ants?!”

Prussia grinned. “You could be.”

“Well, I’m not!” Romano snapped. Then, with a frustrated huff, he jerked his chin toward the patch of flowers in front of them. “I was staring at the flowers. Happy? Now leave me alone!”

That made Prussia perk up at once. “Ah, so my first guess was right!” However, he didn’t move away as Southern Italy had told him to. Instead, he turned his attention to the blooms before them, their bright red petals warmed by the sun.

“So… you like carnations?” he asked, eyeing the flowers more closely. They certainly looked like them. They were lovely blooms, common across the Mediterranean, where they grew in abundance.

Romano seemed surprised that he knew the name of the flowers. He turned his head toward him and blinked, then raised a brow. “You know flowers by their name?” he asked. His tone had lost some of its earlier bite.

Prussia nodded. “Not all of them, but I can recognise the more common ones. I read a bit here and there… different topics, plants and animals included. Gotta stay knowledgeable!” he added with a small chuckle.

Romano tilted his head. “Mhm…”

At that, Prussia cleared his throat, a touch awkward now. “Erm… so, are carnations your favourite flower?”

The Italian turned his gaze back to the flowers and gave a small nod.

“How awesome! I like them too.”

Romano scoffed. “You like them because… what? They’re pretty to look at?” he asked, his tone edged with sarcasm, though the German didn’t seem bothered by it.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not the only reason,” Prussia began, his gaze settling on the red flowers. “You know, carnations are pretty interesting. They open up slowly, and only when the conditions are right for them. It’s kind of impressive, isn’t it? A flower that can tell the difference between safe and dangerous and protect itself by waiting until the moment is right to open.”

He rested an elbow on his knee, propping his head in his hand. “Not all flowers do that.” Then he glanced over at the Italian beside him, a faintly sheepish look crossing his face. “I’m probably boring you with these nerdy facts, huh?”

But the words trailed off when he saw Romano’s expression. He wasn’t looking at him with annoyance or boredom. If anything, he looked surprised… almost intrigued. Prussia went quiet, his heart giving a small, unexpected stutter.

“You…” the Italian muttered, his voice softer than before. He seemed to catch himself a moment later, clearing his throat and quickly turning his gaze back to the flowers. “You are not as shallow as I thought you’d be…”

Prussia blinked, surprised. Wow. Had Romano just complimented him? Well, not exactly, but close enough. He would take it!

They stood in silence for a moment before the German tilted his head and spoke up again, “You thought me shallow?”

“Yup.”

“Why…?”

“You look it.”

“Aha.” He huffed a short laugh at that, more amused than offended. First impressions could have been worse. His red eyes lingered on the Southern Italian for a moment before he asked, “Alright… then what about you? Why do you like them?”

“Similar reason.” Romano answered, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

Prussia smirked his way. “Really? You also like that they can protect themselves so awesomely?”

Southern Italy scoffed under his breath. “Well… no. That’s not the part I specifically like.”

That immediately caught the German’s attention. “Then… what is it?”

Romano hesitated. For a moment, it looked like he might refuse to answer at all. But then… he exhaled slowly and spoke up.

“They remind me of home,” he admitted. “That’s one reason.” His gaze flicked briefly away, then back to the flowers. “And the other is what you said… about how slowly they open up.” He paused, his expression tightening slightly as if he was about to argue with the flowers themselves. “And yet… despite that, they’re considered so incredibly beautiful. Worth the wait.”

His voice softened at the end, turning thoughtful. Romano reached out and brushed his fingers lightly over one of the red carnations.

“They sort of… I guess… remind me of myself…” he said at last.

Prussia blinked, caught off guard. He hadn’t expected Romano to say something like that…

“How?” Romano continued, a little more subdued now, almost as if he’d forgotten he was speaking to someone at all. “It takes me a long time to open up to new people... And I need to trust them enough before I can.” His hand lingered near the petals. “But if people would just be patient enough to see how I really am…”

But he didn’t finish that thought. His words abruptly halted as he suddenly became painfully aware of how much he had been sharing… and with whom. A mortified expression crossed his face. He pulled his hand back quickly, as if the flowers had betrayed him, colour rising to his cheeks.

“...How you really are?” Prussia echoed, his voice genuinely awed, curiosity and something almost enchanted flickering in his eyes.

Romano stared at him, shock and embarrassment flashing across his face. Then his expression twisted into a frown.

“Nothing!” he snapped, pushing himself upright so fast it almost looked like he wanted to outrun his own words. “Forget I said anything!”

And before Prussia could respond, he turned on his heel and hurried off, clearly intent on escaping what he seemed to deem a mortifying moment.

Prussia stayed where he was, still crouched beside the carnations. He watched Romano leave without calling after him. Instead, a wondering, almost stunned look crossed his face. He could hardly believe that what had just happened had actually happened. That had been one of the first times Romano had truly opened up to him…

A small smile tugged at Prussia’s mouth before he could stop it, not that he would have wanted to anyway, and his heartbeat felt just a little quicker than before. He glanced back down at the carnations, then breathed out softly. “So… carnations, huh?”

And from that day on, Prussia never forgot that those were Southern Italy’s favorite flowers.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Prussia began scanning the field for the carnations. He was looking for red ones. He moved through the tall grass, parting it with his hands, searching between clusters of wild herbs and scattered blooms. Every now and then he slowed down, crouching to get a better look, only to stand again when it was not what he wanted.

In the end, he managed to find a few. Not as many as he would have liked. After a moment’s consideration, he picked some white carnations growing nearby as well, adding them to what he already held. It made the bouquet look fuller, less sparse than it would have been with just the red. It was still not very large. But it was, in its own way, quite pretty.

The red-eyed man smirked down at the flowers in his hands, clearly pleased with himself. Romano would definitely like these.

He turned on his heel and scanned the field again until he spotted him. Romano was standing with Luxembourg and Netherlands, talking with them. With a lighter step, Prussia made his way over, already lifting a hand to wave.

“Roma—!” he started, voice rising to call the southern nation over… and it would’ve gone just fine… if someone hadn’t suddenly spoken right over him…

“Hey, Romano!” an American-accented voice called from another direction. A moment later, America himself stepped into Prussia’s line of sight… the very source of the voice, of course.

But America… he was carrying a whole messy bundle of random flowers in his hands, and the moment Romano turned toward him with furrowed brows, those same flowers were suddenly shoved into Romano’s arms by the American, who was smiling like an idiot.

“Here you go!”

And as Prussia stared at it all happening in real time, something inside him just cracked.

Huh? Did… America just give Romano flowers?

What?

No, that was not enough to express how he was feeling at the moment.

WHAT?!

Much better.

AMERICA GAVE ROMANO FLOWERS?! For what reason?! Prussia felt his grip tighten on the flowers in his hands, his teeth clenching hard as irritation swirled in his gut. Why in the world had that kid done something like that? What the hell? Actually, no, scratch that. What the fuck!

That word was not used in the 1800s to express frustration, but historical accuracy clearly did not matter here, because this situation called for something far stronger than a simple “hell.”

The Prussian saw Romano staring in shock and confusion at the bouquet the American had just thrust into his hands, then back at America himself. The other nations nearby looked just as bewildered.

“Hope you like them! I’m very awesome!” America suddenly announced with a grin, before patting the Italian on the shoulder. Then, just as abruptly, his attention snapped away. “Oh man, is that a deer?! Whoa!” And off he went, apparently chasing whatever he thought he had seen in the distance.

Prussia didn’t bother following the direction of his gaze. His eyes stayed fixed on the southern nation now holding a large bouquet of flowers… not from him.

Truth be told, he was irritated as hell that America had given the Italian flowers, but there was disappointment in his gut too, along with a certain sadness. How was he supposed to give Romano the flowers he’d picked for him now? It would just look like he had copied America’s gesture…

And worse, his bouquet was smaller and much simpler. Thoughtful, maybe… but compared to the oversized arrangement America had shoved into Romano’s arms, it looked almost pathetic…

Feeling his heart break a little in his chest, the white-haired nation looked down at the carnations in his hands. For a moment, he considered tossing them into the field; what else was he supposed to do with them?

Before he could, he looked up again toward Southern Italy, a small, longing look appearing in his red eyes. What he didn’t expect was that Romano was already looking back.

Prussia’s gaze widened slightly. His eyes flicked down to the flowers, then back to Romano, almost like he’d been caught doing something wrong. And when the Italian started walking toward him, Prussia quickly hid the carnations behind his back and gave an awkward wave with his free hand.

“Uh… hey, South…” he greeted, forcing a smile, one he tried to keep in place the moment his eyes fell on the flowers in Romano’s hands. A small, strained laugh slipped out anyway. “Heh… that kid gave you flowers, huh? Guess you’re pretty popular.”

Romano only huffed in response. “Yeah, no. I don’t know what got into him… weird bastard.”

But as he glanced toward Prussia, his eyes dropped to the other man’s hands. One of them was hidden behind his back. Romano’s expression changed, curiosity creeping in.

“What’ve you got back there?” he asked.

Prussia tensed at the question, his fingers tightening around the carnations hidden behind his back. He didn’t want Romano to see them, because compared to the big bouquet America had given him, his own felt painfully ridiculous.

“Uh… nothing, nothing important!” he blurted, lifting his free hand in a quick, dismissive wave.

The Italian wasn’t convinced. He tilted his head, trying to catch a glimpse behind Prussia, but the other man quickly shifted, blocking the view. Romano circled the other way, only for Prussia to mirror him again, stubbornly keeping whatever he was hiding out of sight.

That earned a small frown from Southern Italy.

“What the hell could you possibly be hiding that you don’t want me to see?!” he snapped, frustration slipping into his voice as he made another attempt to peek, only to be thwarted once more by Prussia’s stubborn resistance.

“It’s… it’s stupid. It doesn’t matter!” Prussia muttered.

“What is? Stop talking in riddles and show me!” Romano snapped, cheeks puffed out in a way that made it impossible for the German to refuse him.

“Ah…” he sighed in defeat. “Alright. But I warned you… it’s lame.”

Slowly, Prussia brought his hand from behind his back, revealing a small bouquet of red and white carnations he had carefully picked himself.

Romano’s eyes dropped to them immediately. “Carnations?” he asked, surprised.

The Prussian gave a small, awkward nod. “I wanted to… uh—” He cleared his throat and looked down at the ground, suddenly finding it very interesting. “Give them to you. Since you once said you liked them.”

He hesitated, grip tightening slightly around the stems. “But it doesn’t really matter now. You already have a ton of flowers, and these are… kinda lame compared to the ones America gave you.” His gaze flicked away. “I was going to throw them away…”

Romano’s reaction didn’t match Prussia’s awkward explanation at all. Instead, his eyes widened slightly, something bright flickering in them. “You… remembered?” he asked in a quieter voice, looking up at the white-haired man.

Prussia’s chest tightened at the expression on Romano’s face… surprised and almost awed. It made his thoughts stall for a second.

He cleared his throat, forcing his voice to cooperate. “Of course I did,” he said, rougher than intended. Then, after a brief pause, he added more quietly, “How could I forget?”

There was a short pause as Southern Italy stared at him with wide eyes, as though taken aback by what had just been said. After a moment, however, a small frown settled between his brows, and he huffed, muttering under his breath, “Idiot.” a slight pout forming on his lips.

The red-eyed man blinked. Romano’s mood had flipped from bright to sulking in the span of a heartbeat. “Huh?”

Though Romano’s next words made it clear why, “Why would you want to throw them away?” the Italian clicked his tongue. “They’re in good condition… and—” he hesitated, his voice turning a little flustered, “…they’re not lame. Actually… I think they’re… a lot better than whatever random mess that American bastard shoved at me… out of nowhere… for whatever reason…”

He looked up at Prussia with honest eyes. “…Plus,” he added a little more quietly, “you could still just give them to me, you know…”

Prussia’s heart practically stopped. Ah… Roma…

Just like that, every trace of irritation and doubt in his chest faded away, as if it had never been there at all. A soft, relieved smile tugged at his lips as he stepped closer, holding the carnations out toward him.

“Here,” he said gently, “they’re yours.”

Romano took the carnations in his free hand, the one not occupied by America’s bouquet, and studied them for a moment. Then he brought them closer, inhaling softly before settling them against his chest, near his heart.

“Red and white,” he remarked, tone turning lightly teasing. “If you’d added some green herbs or something, it would’ve been the colors of the Italian flag.” A small smile tugged at his mouth as he glanced up at Prussia.

The Prussian let out a faint chuckle. “Next time, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I hope.” responded the Italian, implying there would be a next time, one in which Prussia would be giving him flowers. The thought only made the red-eyed nation happier.

And as they stood there like that, just fixed on one another, blissfully unaware of their surroundings, Prussia suddenly felt it in his heart that… this was the perfect moment to finally tell Romano how he felt.

“Romano…” he began, hesitant at first, but determined. “I’ve… been meaning to tell you something…”

But before another syllable could be spoken, a figure suddenly popped into the space between them, making both of them jolt back in surprise.

“Guys!” It was America, of course. “I just saw an actual deer! Crazy stuff!” he said with a loud laugh, completely oblivious.

At the sight of the blond, Prussia’s jaw tightened at once, and the irritation from earlier came rushing back. Ugh… of all times… why did this guy always show up at the worst possible moment?

America didn’t seem to notice the murderous glare aimed at him. Instead, he turned to Romano, eyes landing on the flowers in his hands. “You should put those in a vase,” he said, then gestured casually. “Want me to take them inside and help you out?”

The offer was friendly enough, but it immediately rubbed Prussia the wrong way. Help? Him help Romano? No way!

With a small frown that he tried, poorly, to keep light, Prussia stepped closer to the southern nation. “No need,” he said, his voice turning a touch firmer than intended. “I’ll do it.”

Romano threw him a confused look, while America blinked for a moment, before his face lit up again, all energy and enthusiasm. “Oh man, you really are the greatest guy!” he said, pointing at Prussia. “Looking out for your friends like that! But no need to worry about something so small, I’ll help Romano!”

At that, Prussia’s patience snapped a little. Like hell you will!

“No, no, it’s fine,” he said quickly. “I can help him with the flowers.”

America just grinned, completely undeterred. “Eh, it’s alright! Thanks for the suggestion, though!”

“It wasn’t a suggestion…”

“I should help him anyway,” America went on, completely ignoring him now. “I gave him the flowers and all. It’s only fair!”

“Not all the flowers are yours…!” Prussia shot back, voice rising slightly despite himself.

And they kept going back and forth like that, Prussia growing more and more fed up with the American, until…

“EHEM.”

Romano’s voice cut through their argument, loud and clearly irritated. Both the Prussian and the American turned toward him at once. Southern Italy stood there, looking unimpressed, a very obvious frown set on his face.

“I think I can put my own flowers in a vase,” he said, his tone clearly annoyed. “I’m not stupid enough not to know how to do that.” He sighed, shaking his head in frustration, then shot Prussia a disappointed look the Germanic nation didn’t quite understand.

Without another word, Romano turned on his heel and walked off, heading toward Belgium, likely to suggest they put their flowers into vases with water together.

Prussia stared at the Italian with open dismay, feeling like he was one second away from either slamming his own head into a wall… or, far more tempting in the moment, slamming the blond next to him’s head into one instead. Ugh…

America. He didn’t remember him being this insufferably in the way back when he’d trained him during the American Revolution….

What the hell had happened since then…

“Well…!” America suddenly chimed in with a small laugh, and the German let out a heavy sigh at the sound. “Looks like Romano over there is pretty independent! Doesn’t need any help from us, haha! Gotta respect that, right?”

Prussia’s mouth tightened into a thin line. Great. This was going to be a long stay.

“Right…” he replied with a small exhale, forcing himself to stay calm. It wasn’t that bad. There would still be plenty of chances to talk to Romano. No need to stress… he just had to find a way to get the southern nation away from America, who always seemed to be around at the worst possible times.

How hard could that really be?

Hard. Very hard. And do you want to know why?

Because somehow, over the next few days, that blond proved to be anything but out of sight, out of mind whenever Prussia tried to get Romano alone… quite the opposite, actually.

Prussia would try taking Romano somewhere quieter around the estate? America would, of course, tag along and talk their ears off the entire time. Prussia would attempt—emphasis on attempt—to invite just the Italian to a nearby village or marketplace to hang out? America would cut in with a grin and go, “Why don’t we make this a group outing instead?” before promptly inviting every single nation staying at the estate.

It was getting ridiculous. How could one nation constantly be so… in his way? Prussia was starting to suspect the American was doing it on purpose. The constant interruptions, the refusal to let them have even a moment to themselves…

Did he seriously not want Prussia alone with Romano? But why? Did he… possibly have a thing for the Italian himself? That would explain the flowers he’d given Southern Italy… but no. No, that couldn’t be it. At least, that’s what Prussia kept telling himself…

Then, during yet another afternoon at Spain’s estate, right after brunch, Prussia finally managed to grab hold of Romano and sneak the two of them away from the others. Away from America…!

He quickly led the Italian to the guest room he’d been staying in before shutting the door and locking it with the key, just to really make sure there was no way, absolutely no way, any… American intervention would happen this time.

Once that was done, he took a few steps back and listened carefully. Hm… it was quiet. It didn’t seem like anyone was approaching the door.

Finally able to relax, Prussia let out a long, exaggerated sigh before heading for the bed and flopping down like a starfish. “Finally… peace and quiet…” he muttered, closing his eyes as the tension slowly drained from his body.

For a brief moment, he just lay there, letting it sink in… that it was just him and Southern Italy in the room. No interruptions. No American blond in sight. Ah… how great.

Romano watched him for a moment from the doorway before walking over and sitting down beside Prussia, though he stayed upright. “You know… you’re sort of similar to America…” he said suddenly.

“What?!” the white-haired nation snapped, eyes flying open as he turned to stare at the Italian next to him. “Do not compare me to him!”

Romano sneered faintly. “But you are. You’re both loud, talk too much, kind of narcissistic…” he glanced at him with an amused look. “…and obnoxious.”

Prussia looked personally offended. “Okay, okay, I’m not denying some of that,” he huffed, “but you should be saying ‘awesome,’ not obnoxious.” He jabbed a finger at his own chest. “And if anyone’s similar, it’s America who’s similar to me. I am the original awesome nation.”

“Mhm. Right.” Romano replied dryly.

Before the German could argue further, Romano shifted and lowered himself onto the bed beside him, settling on his side. Prussia froze. For a moment, his thoughts simply stopped working. Romano was right there. In his bed. His heart kicked against his ribs, jumping wildly as if it had lost all sense of direction. If this was a dream, he hoped no one had the nerve to wake him!

The southern nation stared at Prussia for a moment before speaking up. “So… why the locked door? Don’t tell me it’s to—”

“Yup, it’s to keep a certain American out.” Prussia cut in immediately.

Romano blinked at him, raising a brow. “I feel like you have something against him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the bastard’s annoying and all… but shouldn’t you… like him? Considering he’s sort of like you and your protégé or something?”

At that, the red-eyed man narrowed his gaze, letting out a disgruntled sigh as he stared up at the ceiling. “He is not my protégé,” he said flatly. “Just because I helped shape him into a nation capable of winning wars and disciplined his army does not make him my protégé.”

Romano gave him an unimpressed look from the side, which Prussia could clearly feel without even turning his head. “Yeah. Right,” the Italian replied after a second, his tone dry. “And that’s definitely not the definition of a protégé.”

“It’s not!” Prussia shot back quickly, shaking his head once for emphasis.

Seeing as the German was very set on denying the facts, Southern Italy let out a thoughtful hum before asking, “Why do you seem to not stand America?”

“It’s… well…” Prussia started, then shifted onto his side as well, turning to face Romano.

That was a mistake. The distance between them was… almost nonexistent. Prussia froze for half a second, thrown off by how close Romano’s face was… close enough that he could pick out every detail, every flicker of expression. Then, just as quickly, he forced himself to keep going, as if his heart hadn’t just missed a step.

“Ehem. It’s not that I have anything against him specifically,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s just that he always seems to be on my trail.” He shifted slightly. “These past few days, I’ve been trying to hang out with you. Just you,” he corrected, a touch flustered, his gaze darting away for a moment. “And he keeps showing up anyway. Almost like he doesn’t want me alone with you or something. I don’t know…” His gaze dropped to the sheets between them as he finished speaking.

Romano blinked, clearly caught off guard by that, his gaze flicking away for a moment before returning to Prussia. “I think…” he began slowly, “you’re misunderstanding why he keeps interfering with your plans to hang out with me.”

A small frown formed on Prussia’s face. “I don’t think so.” he scoffed lightly. For days now, he had been convinced the American had a thing for Southern Italy. That was the only explanation that made sense. It had been irritating him more than he cared to admit…

South Italy narrowed his eyes slightly. “I think yes.”

“No.”

Romano let out a tired sigh, visibly annoyed now. He reached out and poked Prussia’s arm. “Want me to tell you why I think he’s been acting like that?”

Upon hearing those words, a bitter sensation rose in Prussia’s gut, then crept up into his mouth and onto his tongue. It took considerable willpower not to let his expression betray just how angry those words made him… angry because he did not want to hear, straight from Romano himself, that America probably liked the Italian, and that this was why he kept trailing after Prussia and Romano. That had to be what Southern Italy was going to say, didn’t it? Because there simply could not be any other reason or explanation for the American to be acting the way he was…

However, when Prussia looked back up at the Italian’s face, the frustration in his chest dulled slightly. The way Romano’s brown hair fell loosely over his hazel eyes was enough to ease the anger that had been building up inside him.

He let out a small sigh, and a faint smile tugged at his lips as he shifted a little closer to the brunet. “You know what?” he said, “Let’s not talk about him anymore. I finally get to spend some time with you in peace, and I don’t need the conversation to be about him.”

Romano stared at him for a moment with an unconvinced look, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he let out a small breath and nodded. “Fine.”

It was quiet for a moment, the two of them simply looking at each other. Prussia found he didn’t mind it at all. He could have stayed like that for hours, just taking in the Italian’s face without ever growing tired of it… especially those warm hazel eyes that seemed to hold him in place. He only broke out of it when Southern Italy spoke again, the sound of his voice pulling him back from the haze he’d drifted into.

“So… why have you been wanting to hang out with just me?” he asked softly, resting his head in his hand and blinking up at the German in a way that felt unfairly disarming. “I thought you came here to see Spain.”

For a moment, Prussia wondered if this was what Heaven felt like… before immediately reminding himself he still had to answer instead of standing there like a lovesick idiot.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself back into something resembling composure. “Well… yes, I did come to see Spain,” he admitted. “But he’s not really… the main reason I’m here.” The words came out a little nervous, but he pushed through regardless.

“Really?” Romano asked, though he didn’t sound particularly surprised.

“Mhm…”

“Then… what is the main reason you are here?” he pressed.

Prussia felt his throat tighten, his chest drawing in as heat rushed up his neck. This wasn’t how he had imagined confessing to Romano… not like this, not with both of them lying in bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

It was nerve-wracking for the Prussian. Even so, he didn’t feel the urge to pull away. If anything, the closeness between them made his intention feel more sincere, and the idea of speaking his heart like this felt strangely intimate…

He drew in a small breath to steady himself, then finally forced the words out.

“South… erm, truth be told, I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he began. “I’ve been thinking about it for quite some time… and that’s sort of the reason I came to the Spanish countryside.”

He swallowed. Now that he’d started, the words seemed to come slower, harder to get out. “I figured you’d be staying with Spain. And I thought… if I came here, I might actually get the chance to talk to you. About what’s been on my mind.”

“That’s also why I kept insisting we spend time alone…” he admitted more quietly. “I wanted to tell you in private.”

Heat crept up his face. Suddenly, he was too aware of everything… how rigid he felt despite lying down, how loudly his heart was beating, how it almost drowned out his thoughts.

He cleared his throat again, awkward and a little helpless, as if that could fix anything. He hadn’t gotten this far in his confession before, and now that he had, he was painfully aware of just how unprepared he really was.

He was almost too nervous to properly look at the Italian’s face. Almost… but not quite. Something kept pulling his gaze back anyway, and when it did, he caught the faint widening of Romano’s hazel eyes, the quick blink that followed right after. A hand lifted, tucking loose strands of hair behind his ear, his gaze dropping for only a moment before returning to meet his again. There was something in his expression then… something oddly expectant that made the German’s chest tighten.

“We are in private now,” Romano whispered, and the words only made it more apparent that they were alone, just the two of them… in this room with nobody else around to hear. “You can tell me.”

Whether those words were meant to encourage the Prussian to press on, or had merely been spoken out of curiosity about what he was keeping from Romano, they had a clear effect on the German nonetheless. It gave him the necessary push, as it were, to open up his heart.

His eyes lowered slightly as he listened to the sound of his own breathing mingling with Romano’s beside him. “Romano…” he began, his expression and tone painfully honest, “… ever since I…”

Yet he never got the rest of the words out, as suddenly a loud knock at the door interrupted him. Prussia blinked, as did Southern Italy, both momentarily taken aback by the sound. But the red-eyed man quickly decided there was no way he was going to be unlucky enough to get stopped from confessing… again.

He cleared his throat and tried once more. “Ever since I…”

And yet again, he was interrupted. Another knock sounded at the door.

Prussia saw Romano’s eyes dart toward it before returning to him. “Ever since you…?” Romano repeated, almost sounding like he wanted him to finally spit it out already.

“Ever since…” Prussia tried once more, only for another round of knocking to cut him off. An irritated frown crossed the Prussian’s face. “Ever—”

“Prussia, man, you in there?” America’s voice suddenly rang from the other side of the door, followed by even more pounding.

At the sound of it, the calmness Prussia had been feeling vanished, replaced by a surge of anger in his chest. Oh, for the love of God. Why the hell was America here now? Did that guy seriously have no hobbies besides following him and Romano around like some damn dog?

The German let out a slow breath, forcing himself to calm down as he tried to ignore the relentless knocking and America’s voice outside the door. Then he heard the handle jiggle, followed by the sound of the door being shoved forcefully. It didn’t open, of course. The door was locked.

But apparently, realizing that fact did not convince America to leave like any normal person would. No, the idiot instead kept rattling the handle, noisily fiddling with it as though he expected the door to magically open out of pity.

The constant clattering made it impossible for Prussia to focus on what he had been trying to tell Romano. Worse still, Southern Italy himself seemed unable to ignore it either, his eyes repeatedly flicking toward the aggressively shaking doorknob…

Rattle. Rattle. Rattle.

Prussia felt something in him twitch dangerously.

Oh, for Heaven’s sake…

“What?!” Prussia burst out in frustration as he reluctantly pushed himself up from the bed. Romano rose as well, staring toward the door with slightly raised brows. “I’m busy!” Prussia snapped. Busy trying to confess some very important feelings, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, America did not seem interested in understanding that rather important detail. Instead, he continued wrestling with the handle from the other side. “I think the door’s stuck!” he called out.

The Prussian stared at the door in disbelief. Stuck? The door was very obviously locked! Locked! On purpose! People did not lock doors for no reason! The fact America apparently could not grasp such a simple concept was quickly driving Prussia toward insanity.

The handle rattled again. Prussia swore he could actually feel his eye twitch…

Still, the German tried his absolute hardest to stay calm. He opened his mouth, intending to explain to the blond that no, the door was not stuck, it was locked, because he was in the middle of something important. But… he never got the chance. The rattling suddenly stopped, and for one brief, hopeful second, Prussia assumed America had finally taken the hint and gone away.

Unfortunately, that assumption lasted all of one second. A loud, jarring bang suddenly rang through the room. And both Prussia and Romano stared in disbelief as the door flew open, forced inward shoulder-first by none other than America himself.

The red-eyed nation could hardly believe what he was seeing. The door’s hinges had practically flown across the room, clattering past him and Romano alike. What the hell…?

America, completely unbothered by his own utterly insane behavior, merely brushed a few splinters and broken bits of wood from his clothes before turning toward Prussia with a bright grin.

“Ah! That door was really stuck, man. You were seriously trapped in here!” he declared proudly. “But don’t worry, I saved you!”

Saved him? Prussia stared at him in disbelief. There was absolutely nothing heroic about forcing open a locked door when the person inside had very obviously locked it on purpose!

Then America’s attention shifted to Romano, and his grin widened even more. “Oh, hey! You were stuck in here too!” he said cheerfully. “Good thing I saved the day for both of you!”

If an endless life was not going to drive Prussia insane, then America certainly would. He was one step away from outright yelling at the blond for destroying his door when the southern nation’s sudden snicker stopped him short.

At the sound of the laughter, Prussia turned toward him and caught the amused look on the Italian’s face.

“What an idiot…!” Romano muttered through a sneer, clearly trying, and failing, not to laugh harder.

And… alright. Perhaps, from an outsider’s perspective, the whole situation was a little funny. America misunderstanding the very simple concept of a locked door and then breaking it down like some deranged firefighter was admittedly ridiculous. But Prussia had already been interrupted by this same American too many times to count whenever he tried to pour his heart out to Romano. At this point, it felt almost… personal.

Still, despite the irritation simmering in his chest, he could not bring himself to snap at America. Not when Romano looked so entertained. The last thing Prussia wanted was to wipe that smile off his face by souring the mood with a shouting match. Oh, Romano… the things Prussia put up with for him.

The German let out a small sigh of disappointment before forcing a strained smile onto his face. “Yup… totally saved me…” he replied, his voice tight with poorly concealed bitterness. “From being trapped… in my own… room…” It was the best response he could manage through the crushing disappointment sitting in his chest.

America, meanwhile, lit up like a Christmas tree at the words. “Hooray! I’m totally heroic!” he declared proudly.

“Yeah…” Prussia answered weakly, staring at the remains of his poor door scattered across the floor.

Heroic. Right.

Don’t be discouraged, Prussia told himself, trying to build up whatever confidence he had left. Next time will go his way. America won’t ruin his confession to Romano… again. That just couldn’t keep happening. Unfortunately, no amount of self-pep talk changed reality. Because it kept goddamn happening anyway. Ah, it was like he’d been cursed!

Morning, noon, evening… there was no “safe” moment! America seemed determined to trail after them like a lost dog that had decided personal space was a completely optional concept! Every attempt at privacy, every fleeting second where Prussia thought this is it, was immediately swallowed whole by the blond’s irritating presence.

It was driving him insane. Genuinely, deeply, historically insane.

“I’m going to lose my damn mind…” he muttered under his breath at one point, fingers curling into his hair in frustration.

If he stayed another day in America’s presence, he was going to snap. He could feel it.

The red-eyed nation even started to consider that maybe he should just give up on confessing during this trip entirely. He would just have to wait until he got back home to Prussia, and then find Romano later in Italy, when there wasn’t a walking annoyance of a “hero” hovering around every corner, to finally tell him how he felt.

But… ugh. How long would that even take? He had nation work, important duties, meetings, paperwork piling up like a mountain. There was no guarantee of a “later.”

Prussia let out a long, suffering breath. What an absolutely miserable situation…

It was another day in the Spanish countryside, and the nations had gathered for a picnic near a wide, glimmering lake close to the Spaniard’s estate… Spain’s idea, of course.

The weather was perfect… warm sun, a soft breeze… it was a lovely day, one meant to be enjoyed. And for most of them, it was. Spain was telling America some historical facts about his lands, while the Benelux siblings were having fun nearby. Prussia, however, wasn’t exactly enjoying it.

He sat a little apart from the others by the lake’s edge, one arm resting loosely over his knee as he watched Belgium and Luxembourg persistently try to convince Netherlands to throw a coin into the water for luck.

“Come on, just one!” Belgium urged.

“It’s a waste of money.” Netherlands replied flatly, refusing to budge an inch.

Luxembourg looked up at him expectantly, as if sibling guilt alone might eventually override his financial principles. It wasn’t working.

Prussia huffed quietly to himself, though even that mildly amusing scene barely lifted his mood. Because… in just a couple of days, he would be leaving, and he still hadn’t done what he came here to do… tell Romano how he felt.

As he sat there, a small pout forming on his lips without him even noticing, Prussia continued to sulk by the water’s edge. A sudden poke against the side of his head snapped him from his thoughts.

He looked up with a faint frown of confusion, but it vanished almost instantly the moment his eyes landed on Southern Italy standing over him, green-brown eyes peering through the fall of dark bangs hanging across his face.

Romano blinked down at him curiously for a moment before a small, amused smirk tugged at his lips. “What’s got you lookin’ so pathetic?” he asked.

Despite the insult, Prussia’s expression brightened at once, far warmer than it had been only moments before. Romano noticed it. The Italian studied him for a moment, something almost fond flickering across his face before lowering himself onto the grass beside him with a small hum.

The German let out a soft chuckle. “Nothing… much…” That was a lie, and it felt obvious even to himself. There was plenty on his mind, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to dump any of it on Romano. The Italian seemed to be in a good mood, and Prussia didn’t want to ruin that. “Just… thinking.”

“Hm?” Romano tilted his head slightly. “About what? You looked like Socrates contemplating the meaning of life for a second there.”

Prussia laughed softly at that. Though, before the question could stick around too long, and before he was forced to answer it, he cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. “Weren’t you hanging around Belgium and Luxembourg earlier? You get bored of them already?”

Romano shook his head. “No, that’s not it.” He hesitated for a moment, suddenly looking oddly flustered, though he forced himself to continue. “…I just wanted to see what you were doing. Why’re you sitting out here by yourself like some loner?”

Oh wow… the white-haired man thought to himself in awe. Romano had wanted to check up on him. Just him. The thought alone made something warm and painfully soft bloom in Prussia’s chest. “That’s… really nice.” he mumbled, a sappy smile tugging at his lips that he couldn’t quite stop.

South Italy frowned in confusion. “What is? Sitting around like a loner?”

“Wha—no, not that!” Prussia corrected quickly, nearly tripping over his own words. “I mean… it’s nice that you came to check on me. Thanks.” He gave the Italian a warm, grateful smile.

Romano blinked at him, a faint flush rising to his cheeks. He turned his head quickly toward the lake, like the water might hide it. “It’s… whatever.” he muttered, a little too stiff. But it wasn’t whatever to Prussia. Not even close.

“Anyway…” Romano said, shifting the topic with a casualness that didn’t quite match the faint redness still lingering on his cheeks. His eyes drifted over the lake. “You know Spain has a boat here?”

The Prussian gave him a surprised look. “A boat?”

“Mhm.” Romano lifted a hand and pointed further down the shoreline.

Prussia followed his gesture, squinting slightly. Sure enough, a small wooden boat rested near the water’s edge. One end dipped just barely into the lake, rocking faintly with the gentle movement of the waves. Two oars lay neatly inside it.

“Oh.” the German blinked. “A boat.”

“Yeah.”

He glanced back at Romano, eyebrows raised. “Does Spain go fishing in this lake or something?”

“Yeah… and, you know, it’s fun to just go on the water.” Romano’s eyes drifted away as he spoke, like he wasn’t very sure of what he was saying. After a moment, they flicked back toward Prussia again, almost uncertain. He looked like he wanted to say something else but couldn’t quite figure out how to form it. “Uhm… he sometimes takes me with him. Or Belgium…”

“Ah, that’s nice.” the Prussian replied with a small smile.

“Uh… yeah… uhm…” Southern Italy muttered, suddenly sounding even less sure of himself. He cleared his throat quickly, as if that would fix it. “Do you like boating? Is that what it’s called when you… go with a boat… on water?”

“Oh? Boating? Yeah, that’s what it’s called,” Prussia said, amused. “And yeah, it’s fun. I like it.”

The Italian went quiet after that, clearly thinking about something. Prussia watched him for a second, curious, almost about to ask what was on his mind. Before he could, Romano spoke again.

“It’s still usable… even if it’s a bit old.” he said vaguely.

The red-eyed nation blinked. “The boat?”

“Yeah… the boat.”

“Oh,” Prussia nodded slowly, still a little confused. “Right. The boat.”

Romano hesitated again. Then, in a much quieter voice, almost swallowed by the sound of the water, he added, “Uhm… would you like to go boating now…?” He immediately looked away, his gaze dropping to the ground as if the grass had suddenly become very interesting.

“Boating? Now?” Prussia repeated, blinking at Southern Italy in surprise. “I mean, sure… it could be fun, but—WAIT!” His voice jumped an octave as the thought fully registered. “Romano… are you asking me to go with you? In Spain’s boat? Right now? On the lake?”

When Romano gave a small, matter-of-fact nod, something in Prussia’s chest kicked up fast. The lingering sulk from earlier vanished like it had never been there in the first place. Oh my God… Just the two of them. A boat. The open water. A grin spread across his face before he could stop it. He straightened, already far too excited, and gave an enthusiastic nod.

“Hell yeah,” he said, bright and immediate. “I’d love that!”

Romano relaxed a little at those words and glanced back at Prussia. He was still flustered, but the tension in his expression eased into something closer to relief. Prussia pushed himself up, then gestured toward the boat. “Let’s go before Spain decides he wants to take his boat for a spin!”

He held out a hand to Romano, who accepted it, and together they made their way toward the wooden boat.

Contrary to Romano’s earlier words, that the boat was old, the boat was in surprisingly good condition. Despite its age, it had clearly been well cared for. Perhaps it was no surprise… Spain tended to his belongings with pride and made sure everything was kept in order. Apparently, that care extended to old boats as well.

Prussia let out a low whistle as he crouched down to inspect the wooden planks. “Nice. No cracks or anything.”

Romano huffed. “Yeah. I told you it’s still usable.”

The red-eyed man laughed, then stood and moved to the edge of the shore where the boat rested, clearly intent on pushing it into the water. “Alrighty, you wanna give me a hand?” he asked, glancing over at the Italian.

Romano looked like he would rather not, but after a moment he gave a resigned nod. “If I must.” With that, he stepped forward, and together they managed to slide the boat fully into the water.

Prussia held onto the edge of the boat to keep it from drifting away as Southern Italy stepped in first, moving carefully toward the farther end to avoid getting wet. Once settled, he sat down with a small, satisfied smile, clearly pleased to have kept his boots dry. Only then did Prussia let go. He stepped into the water and quickly climbed in after him, though his boots and feet still got soaked in the shallow edge where the lake met grass and dirt. Not that he cared in the slightest.

All he could think about was the fact that he was about to be in a boat with Romano…. in the middle of a lake, with nothing but open water around them. Just the two of them. It almost felt like something straight out of a dream.

Call him foolish, but to him, this felt like the kind of moment meant for pouring out one’s heart. He was almost absurdly grateful that Romano had suggested the activity at all, especially after days of sulking over his inability to confess the love that burned in his heart due to constant interference. And now, thanks to Romano himself, the very person his unending affections were directed toward, he would finally have his chance.

Once they were both settled securely in the boat, the German dipped the oars into the water and began to row, very pleased. And yet, that happiness didn’t last long, as the voice he had grown to almost detest over the past few days suddenly echoed behind him.

“Guys! You going rowing?”

A chill ran down Prussia’s spine at the mere notion that America was once again interrupting his and Romano’s alone time! The Italian seemed irritated as well, a slight furrow forming on his brow, though, for some reason, not irritated enough… almost as if he were letting America off the hook for being the way he was… for reasons Prussia couldn’t even begin to understand, nor particularly wanted to.

He couldn’t even hide how annoyed he sounded when he replied, “Yes…” already rowing faster as if he could outrun the problem itself. The only goal now was to push further across the vast lake and leave America’s insufferable presence behind. But… of course, it didn’t go his way. Why would it?

The American suddenly waded in, water rising to his knees beside the boat Prussia and Romano were sitting in. Both nations froze in surprise as he beamed at them like nothing was wrong at all. “That’s super cool!” he said brightly. “Mind if a third party joins you?”

At those words, a sudden surge of anger flared through the Prussian, tightening in his chest. His grip on the oars hardened until the wood bit into his skin. No. No, no, no! Not again! Not America interrupting his time with Southern Italy!

“Yes, actually, we do mind.” he snapped, the response leaving his mouth before he had time to temper it, or even consider sounding polite. At this point, he was too irritated to care.

“This is clearly a boat meant for two people.” He gestured sharply toward the two seats. “And,” he added bitterly, “South and I… well, how should I put it? We want to spend time together. Alone. Just the two of us.” He emphasized the last words, as if saying them more firmly might make the message get through that thick skull of the American.

Romano gave him a conflicted look, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Unfortunately, before he could, it became clear that America hadn’t understood Prussia at all. He simply waved a dismissive hand, grinning as if the problem had already been solved. “I won’t be in your way at all!” he said brightly. “You won’t even notice I’m there!”

Seriously? What kind of argument is that?

“Uh, I think we will.” Prussia shot back.

This time, Romano stepped in as well, though with noticeably less energy than the Prussian. “Prussia’s right, bastard. This boat only fits two people. So whether you’re noticeable or not doesn’t matter… it’ll sink with three.” He folded his arms, tilting his head away with a click of his tongue. “Maybe another time. On another boat.”

Despite being grateful that the Italian had also told America off, the red-eyed man couldn’t help but bristle at the thought that there might be another time… one where Romano would apparently accept America joining them in such activities. Why would he even say that? And now that the question had surfaced, something about it felt off. Romano wasn’t nearly as prickly with America as he should have been when the man refused to leave them alone… why was that?

Those thoughts kept circling in his mind, each one tightening the anger in his chest. He found himself wanting to leave the lake’s shore already, just so he wouldn’t have to see America’s face anymore.

However, the American had a different idea. “Aw, come on, I think it can hold three people! It looks sturdy enough!”

Prussia had to fight the urge to snap the oars in half from sheer frustration as Romano shook his head firmly. “Uh-uh. Don’t be stupid. It won’t.”

“Nah, but if I just—” The blond suddenly stepped closer to the boat and grabbed the rim.

“What the hell are you doing?!” the southern nation exclaimed as America tried to pull himself up onto it.

Unfortunately for all three of them, America had not considered the laws of physics, that when too much weight is placed on one side of a small vessel, it tends to tilt in that direction. In other words, the boat immediately began to tip sideways.

In a matter of seconds, the dry boat was no more. It flipped violently into the cold water, throwing all three of them into the lake. For a brief moment, all of them were submerged in the icy depths… including America himself.

Prussia didn’t even have time to process what had happened before he broke through the surface of the water. He quickly got to his feet, as the water was fairly shallow near the edge of the lake.

In a panicked rush, he looked around for Romano, who had also managed to stand, though he was now hugging himself tightly against the cold. He was cursing under his breath in every language he knew.

Prussia moved quickly toward him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Romano shook his head immediately, his expression openly irritated. “Hell no! It’s freezing! Ugh, that idiotic maron! I told him the boat couldn’t hold more than two people… why the hell doesn’t he listen…”

The German sighed, a flicker of concern crossing his face at the sight of Southern Italy’s clear distress.

Around them, the other nations who had witnessed the incident were already reacting, worried murmurs breaking out along the shore.

“Are you guys alright?” Belgium called out as she hurried toward the water’s edge, her brothers and Spain close behind her.

“¡Dios mío!” (Oh my God!) Spain exclaimed. “Is everyone okay?”

“Define okay…” Romano grumbled in annoyance, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Prussia wasn’t much better off either… he could already feel the cold sinking into his bones.

He was just about to tell Spain that they were unharmed when America, who had also surfaced, suddenly spoke up.

“Uhhh… yeah, uh, sorry about that. I may have miscalculated… a bit…”

Prussia turned toward him. And there he was… standing a few feet away in the water, just as soaked as they were, wearing an apologetic expression. The very same blond who had caused all of this… and had ruined Prussia and Romano’s alone time once again! Ugh… A sudden burst of rage surged through the white-haired nation, far stronger than before. It tightened in his chest so intensely that, despite himself, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Miscalculated?” he echoed, his brows drawing into a furious frown. “Miscalculated?! Are you serious right now?!”

“Uhm…” America let out, clearly taken aback by the Germanic nation suddenly raising his voice. “Yeah…?”

That stupid answer only fueled Prussia’s anger further. “Oh, because that’s what you always do, isn’t it? You miscalculate! And you never stop to listen to anyone around you!” he snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at the blond. “Me and Romano both told you that that godforsaken boat couldn’t hold more than two people, but no! You didn’t listen to a word we said, like you’ve got beeswax in your ears or something!”

“I said I was sorry…” America muttered, deflated.

From behind Prussia, Romano spoke up as well. “It’s fine, Prussia. Drop it. I mean… no, it’s not fine, that’s a lie… but don’t—”

But Prussia was far too enraged to even take in the Italian’s words, words he would normally treat almost like scripture. Worse still, Romano wasn’t nearly as furious as he should have been. At America. At the situation. At all of it. Why the hell was he letting the guy off so easily? Why wasn’t he shouting, cursing, or at least looking like he wanted to punch him in the gut? It was all making the German even more furious…

“No!” Prussia snapped, eyes narrowed on America. “I will not drop anything!” The brunet’s eyes widened at that, as did America’s. Though, Prussia didn’t care. He was allowed to be angry!

“You… goddamned idiotic moron! Just look at the state you’ve left Southern Italy in! He’s drenched from head to toe and freezing!” the red-eyed man shouted.

“Prussia…” Romano tried to call out to him, but Prussia wasn’t finished saying what he needed the American to hear.

He stormed forward through the water, closing the distance between them. “I’m drenched from head to toe and freezing, too! Because of you!” he exclaimed, jabbing a finger into America’s chest.

The blond blinked at him in shock. Then his expression softened, turning somewhat remorseful. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t…”

“You didn’t what? Think?!” Prussia scoffed. “Yeah, like I didn’t already notice you lack any kind of critical thinking…” His voice was completely bitter.

“I can’t believe I ever trained you myself. Such an empty goddamn head… You’re living proof I’m terrible at disciplining other nations. I must really suck at it, because you’re nothing like what a Prussian-trained nation should be!”

He shoved his finger harder into the other’s chest. “I wasted a century of effort on nothing! You’re the biggest disappointment to Prussian ways! The biggest disappointment to me!”

With one final shove, he struck the blond harder than before, driven by a rush of anger that overrode any restraint. America lost his balance and toppled backward into the shallow water with a sharp splash. However, the German didn’t react. If anything, a sense of satisfaction took hold in his chest at the sight.

“And stop following me around like a damn dog! All you’ve done is step on my tail these past few days… getting in my way, stealing the time I wanted to spend with… with Romano! I didn’t come here to see you! I came to see him! And somehow, I’ve seen more of you than of him!” He splashed water with his boot in frustration.

“What the hell is your deal with him?” he barked, glaring at the blond with infuriating intensity. “Ugh… stay away from Southern Italy!”

His expression twisted, disgust, anger, jealousy all knotted together. He couldn’t stand the thought of that American bastard anywhere near Romano. Worse still, he couldn’t stand him anywhere near himself.

“And stay away from me!”

And with those words, he finished his enraged outburst. All the nations around them stared at Prussia with wide-eyed shock and disbelief. Silence settled over the area.

America, still half-submerged in the water and only just recovering from being shoved down by the white-haired man, looked up at Prussia with a guilty, sorrowful expression, one laced with hurt. His eyes even seemed to glisten faintly. His gaze dropped to the water, and a small sniffle broke the stillness.

Slowly, he pushed himself upright and cleared his throat, though his usual energetic confidence was nowhere to be found. “I didn’t realize I was causing you such trouble… I… I apologize…” the blond muttered under his breath. After a brief pause, he added quietly, “I’ll stay out of your way from now on.”

With that, he turned on his heel, climbed out of the lake, and quickly walked away, likely heading back toward Spain’s estate.

Now that it was over, Prussia felt a wave of relief wash over him. At last, he’d gotten his anger out, and, more importantly, he’d managed to shake the American off his trail. It was about time that blond learned to leave him alone. But beneath the relief, something else clung on… a small, uncomfortable weight in his chest, something like guilt. He thought again of America’s pained expression, and for a moment, it almost bothered him. Almost.

He quickly pushed the feeling down, burying it for the sake of his own peace of mind. “Finally…” he murmured at last, letting out a long, tired sigh.

His eyes shifted to the other nations who had witnessed the entire outburst. They all wore expressions of surprise and concern. Even Netherlands had a slight furrow between his brows. Prussia’s gaze moved on to Spain. For a moment, the man looked conflicted, watching him before turning his attention to the American, who was already getting farther away.

With a small sigh and a clipped click of his tongue, Spain muttered, “Dios mío, Prussia…” (Oh my God, Prussia…) before straightening and calling out, “Hey, America, wait up!” He hurried after him without another word.

Prussia watched them go, a flicker of unease coiling in his chest. Spain’s reaction made everything feel worse, leaving him more remorseful than he wanted to admit. Still, he forced himself to push it aside. No. America had definitely deserved it.

However, that thought didn’t last long.

“What the hell is your problem?!” Romano suddenly snapped. The words were laced with such disgust and disappointment that they nearly struck Prussia harder than any physical blow. He turned quickly to face him.

“My problem?” the German echoed, taken aback. His brows drew together as he gestured toward the water. “Look at what America did!” He motioned to their drenched state, as if it were obvious proof.

But the Italian wasn’t moved in the slightest. If anything, his expression hardened further, disappointment clear on his face. “Are you actually kidding me right now?!”

“Me? Kidding you?” Prussia echoed in disbelief. What was Southern Italy even trying to say? “I have every right to be angry! And it’s not just this… the two of us falling into the lake, it’s everything he’s been doing, getting on my damn nerves… He kept following us!” Prussia exclaimed, a hint of jealousy slipping through despite himself. “Like… like he didn’t want me alone… with you…” he said, visibly agitated. “Like he’s got a thing for you… or something.” He muttered the last part under his breath, but it was loud enough.

Romano had heard it. A disbelieving look crossed his face. “Like he… huh?!” he blurted, stunned. He dragged a hand over his forehead, pushing back his wet bangs and pressing his fingers to his temples. “Santa Maria, give me strength…” he muttered, before snapping his glare back at the red-eyed nation like he’d just said something outrageous. “Are you serious right now?!” he demanded.

The Prussian frowned, thrown off by the reaction. Why was he so irritated? Why did it bother him so much that Prussia had told America off? That jealousy twisted further into frustration and something almost desperate as he answered, “I am serious…”

Southern Italy blinked at him, then slapped a hand to his forehead and shook his head. “You know what? I cannot with you right now…”

“What?” Prussia replied, confusion breaking through his frustration, a flash of hurt slipping into his voice. “What… what did I even do that was so wrong?” His tone was no longer irritated like before, but lower, more strained. “He deserved what I told him! Why are you even on his side?! Who the hell is he to you?”

Southern Italy stared at him in utter disbelief, as though he couldn’t accept that Prussia was genuinely saying this. A frown of disapproval and disappointment formed on his face as he let out a sharp huff and rolled his eyes. For a moment, he seemed to forget the cold and the water soaking through his clothes.

“You cannot be for real right now! Jesus Christ, you idiot, how the hell are you this damn stupid?!” he snapped, stomping his foot into the shallow water. “You say America lacks critical thinking skills, but clearly you’re the one who’s missing them too! Basic thinking… obvious thinking!”

“Ugh…” He dragged a hand down his face, glaring at Prussia. “Whatever. I’m going back to the estate. You’ve completely ruined my mood.” Without another word, he turned and began trudging through the water toward the edge of the lake.

The Germanic nation only stared at him, confusion spreading across his face. “I ruined your mood…?” he repeated quietly, the ache in his chest intensifying. “How did I—? But it was America who made you fall into the lake…” he added, jaw clenching as he bit the inside of his cheek.

Romano, who had just hauled himself out of the water and shaken the worst of it from his clothes, shot him a sharp glare from the corner of his eye. “This isn’t about the damn lake!” he snapped. “It’s about you being blind and twisting things into something they’re not. America wasn’t trying to get to me… he hasn’t been at all…”

Prussia’s frustration flared again at those words, and he let out a short scoff. How could Romano stand there and look him in the eye and say something like that? After everything America had done… getting in the way, sticking around where he had no business to be, forcing himself between them… what else was he supposed to think? America definitely had something for the Italian; it was so obvious. And worse, Romano was defending him, siding with that blond idiot. The thought only tightened the knot of anger in Prussia’s chest.

The shift in his expression must have been obvious, because even Romano noticed. But seeing it… the refusal to listen, the refusal to even consider what he was saying… made something in the Italian’s patience give way further. Romano cut himself off with a tired exhale.

“Actually, it doesn’t matter,” he said flatly. “I can see you’re not interested in listening anyway.” He gave a small shake of his head, lips curling in disapproval. “Whatever.” Turning on his heel, he started walking away toward Spain’s estate.

Luxembourg and Netherlands followed after him. Normally, Prussia would have gone too… no matter Southern Italy’s mood, whether he was happy, sad, or angry. No matter the circumstances, he always followed him, because he loved him. But not now. He stayed where he was, knee-deep in the lake, staring at the faint ripples on the surface of the water. Bitterness lingered in his expression.

“God damn it… God damn it… God damn it…” the German muttered under his breath, pacing the edge of the water before he stopped abruptly and kicked at it. The splash was messy, but it didn’t take anything off his chest like he wanted it to. “Ugh… America… you ruined everything…” he said through his teeth.

However, the anger didn’t last. It drained out of him quickly, slipping away until there was nothing left to feed it. His hands fell limp at his sides. His jaw unclenched. Even his breathing slowed into that hollow sort of aftermath that lingers in the chest when fury is gone and only pain remains.

He stood quietly, staring at the rippling water, left alone with his thoughts, forced to take in everything that had just happened and turn it over in his mind.

Now Romano was angry at him. He probably hated him… for whatever reason. Prussia had ruined his chances of ever being with the other nation because he’d lost his temper at America. God, why did it even matter so much to Romano whether America was upset with him or not? Did the Italian care for him on a deeper level or something?

The thought twisted painfully in his chest. But Romano had said America had not been trying to pursue him… so then what? Was Romano the one trying to get America’s attention? How did that make any sense…?

No. No, no, no…

Southern Italy could not be with America! God, the mere thought made his chest ache so badly he wanted to tear the feeling out of himself entirely. And what if he had ruined his chances…? No… what if there had never been any chances to begin with? What if Romano’s eyes had been fixed on someone else all along? That would explain it. It would explain why Romano was so much softer with America, why he tolerated him in ways he rarely tolerated anyone else…

Ugh… God, no…

The thought made Prussia feel sick with jealousy. His stomach twisted unpleasantly as his eyes began to sting, his vision blurring faintly with gathering tears. God, he was pathetic. Yet he could not help it. He loved Romano so much, and the thought that those feelings might never be returned, that they might instead belong to someone like America, someone who felt like a cheaper imitation of himself, hurt more than he could bear.

Wiping at his face with the damp sleeve of his coat, Prussia finally forced himself out of the lake. Water dripped from his clothes as he trudged across the shore and over to a tall tree, lowering himself against its trunk with a weary sigh.

He barely even noticed how drenched he was, nor did he care about the cold spring wind that bit through his soaked clothing and chilled his skin. None of it mattered to him right now. All he cared about was Southern Italy. And the nation did not seem to care for him in the same way…

The thought alone was enough to make his eyes burn again. More tears gathered despite his efforts to keep them down, rolling along his jaw before disappearing into the dark, damp fabric of his coat.

Oh, what the hell…

He had arrived here so happy, so excited to see Romano again, only for everything to fall apart in what felt like mere moments. And now he would probably be leaving in the exact opposite state… heartbroken, miserable… perhaps even today.

Prussia dragged a hand down his face, wiping away the tears that would not seem to stop, before letting out a long, defeated sigh.

So lost in his thoughts was he that he failed to notice the figure approaching him through the trees. It was only when the person finally spoke that Prussia stirred from his misery.

“Hey… would you mind if I kept you company?”

Prussia blinked in surprise at the voice and looked up, only to find Belgium standing over him with the same gentle, friendly smile she always seemed to wear.

At the sight of her, the German quickly turned his head away and rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm, trying to erase any evidence of the tears he had shed. After a moment, he looked back up at her and cleared his throat awkwardly. “I wouldn’t,” he answered in a subdued, melancholy tone. “But… you don’t have to. You can just go with your brothers… I figured you’d already left… with everyone else…”

At his words, the Belgian woman gave a small shake of her head. “No,” she said softly. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.” And with that, she turned and lowered herself beside the white-haired man, resting against the trunk.

Prussia glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his expression almost pitiful in its exhaustion and hurt. “You don’t have to…” he started quietly, though Belgium cut him off before he could finish.

“I want to.”

Prussia swallowed dryly at her words and gave a small nod before turning his gaze back toward the lake stretched out before them. For a while, neither of them spoke.

The silence was not uncomfortable, yet the longer it stretched on, the more his thoughts seemed to spiral inward. He kept thinking, and thinking, and with every passing moment the sadness inside his chest became harder to contain. Eventually, despite how badly he did not want Belgium to witness him like this, he could no longer stop the tears from gathering in his eyes again.

Belgium noticed before he could hide it. She heard the faint instability in his breathing, the subtle sniffle he tried so hard to suppress, and her expression immediately softened. Her brows lowered with concern as she turned toward him, and after a brief hesitation, she gently lifted a hand to the eye closest to her and brushed away the tear that escaped despite all of Prussia’s efforts to hold it back.

He startled slightly at the touch. Almost immediately, he brought both hands up to his face and rubbed harshly at his eyes before leaving them there, pressing the heels of his palms against them as though he could force the tears to stop through sheer will alone.

“Sorry…” he muttered weakly. “I must look so damn… pathetic… sorry…”

“No, no, no!” Belgium exclaimed at once, shaking her head vigorously. “Expressing your feelings is never pathetic. Do not apologise for crying!”

Under different circumstances, Prussia might have managed a small smile at her comforting words. But right now, his heart felt far too close to breaking for that. He drew in a quiet breath before exhaling heavily, then slowly lowered his hands from his eyes and stared blankly ahead at the lake.

“It’s just…” he mumbled softly. “Ah, America… he kept getting on my nerves, and this whole… boat thing was just the cherry on top of my rage cake…” A faint frown settled onto his features. “But whatever. It doesn’t matter,” he continued, though his voice lacked any real conviction. “Apparently I was the villain for snapping at the kid. Everyone looked at me like I’d done something awful…” He paused briefly before swallowing. “And Romano, he… ah…”

The German trailed off with a small sigh of resignation, his eyes narrowing slightly with sorrow as the image of Romano’s disappointed expression resurfaced in his mind.

Belgium stared at Prussia for a short moment before clearing her throat, her voice soft when she finally spoke. “You… really care about Romano, don’t you?” she said gently, then added with certainty, “You… love him.”

Prussia should have been surprised that she had said it so plainly. But it wasn’t as if he had been careful about hiding his feelings. If anything, it had probably been obvious to everyone around him… everyone except Romano himself.

“Yeah…” he answered after a pause. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

Belgium gave a small nod. “You know,” she continued softly, “Romano cares a lot about you, too.”

“Does he now…” Prussia murmured, his gaze drifting toward her at last.

Belgium gave him a small, encouraging smile. “Mhm! He talks about you a lot. He was very impatient before your arrival here as well… kept checking outside the estate to see if you were coming.”

Those words lifted Prussia’s mood, if only slightly. “He did?” he asked in a low voice.

She nodded. “Yes! When America arrived, he got all excited because he thought it was you.”

That made Prussia brighten further, though the mention of America quickly dulled it again. Belgium noticed. Her brows knit faintly, and she let out a small breath. “Prussia… America isn’t a bad kid. You of all people know that.”

The white-haired man scoffed slightly. “Yeah, because… what? I spent time trying to discipline him? Time… that was apparently in vain, since he seems to lack any sort of discipline…” he said bitterly.

Belgium gave him a small, disapproving look. “Prussia…” she began, a little more firmly. But before she could finish, her expression shifted, like an idea had just formed in her mind. She straightened slightly, her gaze turning with sudden determination. “You know, actually… America resembles you somewhat.”

Upon hearing that, Prussia let out a short huff. “You too?” He remembered Romano had said something similar not long ago… that he and America were alike in certain ways. Yeah, right… “Don’t compare me to him.”

“But it is true, Prussia.” The blonde pressed on, undeterred by his stubbornness. “He’s exciting and determined like you. Energetic and full of life… fun, like you. He even has a catchphrase.” She cleared her throat and, a little awkwardly, imitated, “I’m the hero!” A soft laugh slipped out after that. “And you,” she added, trying again, clearing her throat once more before managing a rough, exaggerated, “I’m awesome!”

That earned a slight snicker from Prussia despite himself, which only encouraged her further.

“And his army has been set to follow Prussian standards. The best standards, in his words.” Her expression softened, turning more earnest as she finished. “What I’m trying to say is… Prussia, America looks up to you. In his eyes, you’re respectable, amazing, strong, admirable… he wants to be just like you!”

Upon hearing those words, the German glanced at the blonde with a surprised expression. “He… does?” I mean, the guy had been constantly complimenting him and stuff, but then again, who wouldn’t compliment the awesome Prussia…

“Yes!” Belgium burst out, her tone full of conviction. “He does so many things just to be like you! He tries to copy the way you act and follow in your footsteps. You said he kept interrupting your alone time with Romano because he apparently likes him… but no, Prussia, he wasn’t tagging along because he wanted Romano. He was tagging along because he wanted to spend time with you!”

At that, Prussia’s eyes widened like two crystal spheres. “What?” he blurted out in shock. “Me? But then… what about when he gave Romano flowers…”

“He probably saw you picking flowers yourself,” Belgium said quickly, “or heard you mention you were giving flowers to a friend. And because he wants to be like you, he copied it immediately. You’re like an idol to him.”

Prussia went quiet. Now that he thought about it… he had told America back then that he was going to pick flowers for a friend. And the American had lit up at the idea, saying something like, “So that’s what awesome people do.” And when he actually gave Southern Italy the flowers, America had proudly declared he was “very awesome”… just like Prussia would have. As if doing what Prussia did automatically made him that…

And it was precisely in that moment that the German realized, perhaps too late, that Belgium was right. All this time, he had assumed America was following him and South Italy because he was interested in Romano. But that wasn’t it at all. It was never admiration aimed at Southern Italy. It had been directed at him. And there had been signs, signs his jealousy had blinded him to completely.

Good Lord. No wonder Romano had called him blind. Because he truly had been.

“Ach du meine Güte…” (Oh my goodness…) the Prussian let out in realization. “I am actually so stupid.” Suddenly, he didn’t feel sad or heartbroken anymore… not even frustrated or angry. Instead, he just felt stupid. Completely and utterly stupid.

Belgium looked at him with a small, reassuring smile. “Don’t say that. You were just… unobservant.”

“Oh my God…” he muttered, barely hearing her. “I yelled at him… I called him a disappointment… oh my God… I’m horrible. I’m so horrible.”

Guilt churned in his gut as everything he had said to America replayed in his mind… how he had shoved him into the lake, how cold and bitter his look had been afterward… all while the kid had just been standing there, looking up at him, so hurt, having wanted nothing more than to spend time with him because he thought Prussia was apparently the best. Because he looked up to him. And he had gotten jealous. Angry. For nothing.

“No… no, no, no…” he muttered, shaking his head as if he could physically undo it. “God, that must have hurt…” His brows furrowed slightly. “What kind of idiot does that? What kind of idol does that make me?”

The Belgian woman beside him tried to reassure him. “No, no, you’re not horrible. You just didn’t realize it. You just care about Romano so much it made it hard to see that.” She gave him a warm smile. “But hey! At least you realized it now. Better late than never.”

Prussia blinked at her for a moment before he realised she was right. Better late than never. He need not sulk over his mistakes, but fix them. “Yeah… you’re right,” he said quietly. He stood there a second longer, guilt still swirling within him but no longer so overwhelming. He pushed it aside, letting determination take its place instead. “I have to go apologise to America!” he said resolutely.

“Mhm!” she replied immediately.

“Thank you, Bel.” he said sincerely.

She smiled back at him, bright and genuine. “Anytime, Prussia. You’re a dear friend.”

He smiled in return and pulled her into a quick hug, grateful for her words and for pulling him out of his own head. She really was an amazing friend to have. Props to Spain for falling in love with someone like her.

She hugged him back just as happily, but after a moment she tapped his shoulder with a small chuckle. “Uhm, Prussia… you’re still very much wet, and I can feel my clothes starting to get damp…”

He blinked, then quickly pulled back with an awkward laugh. “Oops… sorry. I forgot.”

“It’s fine,” she said cheerfully. “Now, you should go apologize to America, and then find dear Romano and explain yourself properly! He seemed very upset that you didn’t understand what America was really doing!”

“Yes! I shall do just that!” Prussia said, straightening immediately. He jumped to his feet before helping her up as well. “You’re coming to the estate too, I suppose?”

“Mhm! I’ll walk with you. Ah, but Prussia… do take a bath and change out of those wet clothes first. You could seriously catch a cold!”

“Ah, yes, right…” he muttered, glancing down at himself.

“I’ll have some of Spain’s workers prepare you a bath!” Belgium added warmly.

Prussia smiled at her, “Thank you, Bel.” Really, Belgium was the sweetest.

And so, the two made their way back to the estate. Once Prussia had taken a long-needed bath and changed into dry, clean clothes, he set off in search of America. Belgium encouraged him the entire way. He needed to apologize properly to the poor kid.

He found him in the drawing room. America sat slumped and subdued, with Spain beside him, trying in vain to lift his spirits. The sight alone made Prussia’s stomach tighten. He looked so sad. So hurt.

When Prussia stepped inside, both Spain and America looked up. The moment America’s eyes landed on him, that already dim expression seemed to sink further. He stood abruptly.

“Uhm… sorry,” he said quietly, voice flat. “I was in your way again… I’ll just leave…”

It felt like a blow straight to Prussia’s chest, but he refused to let it discourage him. America had barely turned to leave when the German spoke up quickly, almost urgently. “America, wait a second!”

At those words, the blond turned back toward him, confusion and something uncertain flickering in his eyes. Prussia took a slow breath, forcing himself to calm down before speaking again.

“Look, I… I said some terrible things to you earlier,” he admitted, his voice unusually serious, yet honest. “No… more than that. I was awful. Not just earlier… I’ve been like that to you for these past couple of days, too.”

His gaze dropped for a moment, jaw tightening as if the words themselves were hard to pull out. “I shouldn’t have,” he continued. “Because you didn’t deserve it. You’re a good kid, America. I just… I let bitterness and jealousy get the better of me, and I took it out on you.”

“Jealousy?” America echoed, startled. He turned fully now, blinking at him. “Why would you have any reason to be jealous of me…?”

Prussia gave a weak laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s stupid, but… erm, long story short, I really like Southern Italy. And when I say really, I mean reeeeally like him,” he admitted, the words coming out a little awkwardly. “And I was under the impression that you felt the same way.”

He shifted uncertainly, eyes flicking away. “And every time you tagged along when we hung out, I just… got in my own head. I thought you were there because you liked him too, or because you wanted to steal time away from me with him.” He let out a small, self-deprecating huff. “Which, yeah, sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud.”

His expression softened slightly. “It wasn’t even just hanging out for me,” he added more quietly. “Most of the time I was trying to work up the courage to tell him how I feel… and I kept thinking I was running out of chances because of you.”

For a moment, there was silence. America stared at him, stunned. “You… like Romano?” he asked finally.

Prussia gave a small nod.

“Woah… I didn’t expect that.” America said, still processing it. Then he glanced aside, as if reconsidering everything. “And… you thought I liked him too?”

“Yep.”

“But… I don’t like him,” America said quickly. Then he hesitated, scratching his cheek. “I mean, I like him. He’s a chill guy. Totally cool to be around. Just not the kind of guy I’d… you know. Be with.”

“Yeah… I understood that far too late…” the red-eyed man admitted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck again before clearing his throat. “Anyways, that’s why I snapped at you back at the lake,” he continued. “And… the point of me telling you all of this is that I want to apologise. I’m sorry, America. For the way I spoke to you. For what I said.”

He exhaled slowly. “I didn’t mean any of it. You’re not annoying. You’re not stupid. Maybe a bit… inattentive at times,” he added, glancing aside, “but I suppose I’m not one to talk, considering I completely misread your intentions in the first place.”

His expression softened further. “And you’re not a disappointment to the Prussian ways. You don’t make me look like a bad influence or… erm, trainer. You’re not a disappointment to me. In fact… I’m proud of the nation you’ve become so far. And I hope you keep growing stronger and better as the days go on.”

He offered a small, uncertain smile. “So… I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me and my stupidity. I would really like to be your friend.”

At those words, America’s eyes widened. A sheen of emotion quickly gathered there, his brows drawing together and his lips pressing into a thin line as if he was trying to hold it back. It didn’t work. Tears spilled anyway. Prussia froze for a second, clearly thrown off by the sudden shift.

“You mean it?” America asked, voice cracking as he sniffled. “You don’t think I’m annoying or stupid… or a disgrace to you?”

Prussia hesitated only briefly before shaking his head. “I don’t.”

A shaky breath left the blond. His shoulders tensed as if he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. “You’re… proud of me?” he managed, wiping at his face with the back of his hand.

“Yes.” Prussia said more firmly this time. “I am very proud of you.”

America’s breath hitched again. “You want to be my friend…?”

“Yes.”

As that was confirmed, the American suddenly sprinted forward and wrapped Prussia in a crushing hug, squeezing the air straight out of him. Jesus. Prussia had almost forgotten how strong the kid really was. Even so, he returned the embrace, steadying himself as best as he could.

“Waaaahhh! I’m so, so, so glad you don’t hate me, man!” America blurted, shaking him slightly as he clung to him. “You’re like… totally my idol! The one I look up to the most! My star in the dark, the coolest, most awesome guy in the whole world! My saint in the sky!”

“Okay… that’s… yeah, I got it…” Prussia managed to wheeze out, still very much in the process of not getting enough oxygen, mostly because America’s enthusiasm had not come with any concept of… restraint. Thankfully, America finally let go, wiping at his eyes before breaking into a bright grin.

Prussia exhaled heavily once he could breathe again, rolling his shoulders. “So then… we’re good?”

“Yeah!” America said brightly, before suddenly remembering something. “Ah, but, man, if you wanted to spend time alone with Romano because you totally have your sights set on him, you should’ve just said so from the start! I didn’t know! I thought you were just pals hanging out… and what’s better than two pals? Three pals! Plus, I was really excited to hang out with you, so I didn’t really take the hint. You’re just so cool!”

Prussia let out a small laugh. “Yeah, that was my bad. I should’ve explained. Sorry again.”

“No worries!” the blond waved it off. “I should probably apologise too… for being all up in your business and not picking up on the fact that you reeeally wanted time alone with Romano. So, sorry for that!”

“It’s alright.” the German said simply.

“Oh, how good that you two made up!” Spain suddenly exclaimed, making both Prussia and America jump. They’d almost forgotten he was in the room. “It is never nice to argue with those around you!”

Prussia gave a small chuckle and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“It isn’t awesome.” he added at the same time America declared, “It isn’t what a hero would do.”

The two of them blinked at each other for a moment, then laughed. Maybe Belgium and Romano were right. He and America were a lot more alike than Prussia had originally cared to admit. Speaking of Romano…

“Ah, right!” the Prussian cleared his throat. “I need to go talk to Romano as well. He got pretty pissed at me. Have you seen where he went?” His gaze shifted between the two of them.

“I believe he went to his room to wash up,” Spain replied thoughtfully. “Earlier, while I was waiting for America to finish in the bathroom, I saw him head down the hallway toward his room.”

“Ah, okay! Thank you!” Prussia nodded. “Then… I’ll go see if I can make things… okay between us…!”

“Good luck, Prussia man! Go get him, tiger!” America said, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

“¡Tú puedes!” (You can do it!) Spain added with a warm smile.

Prussia nodded before turning on his heel and walking around the estate in search of the southern nation’s room. It didn’t take long to find it. He had asked a Spanish worker for directions, and soon enough he was standing before the Italian’s door.

He drew in a slow breath, then let it out as he raised his hand to knock. For a moment he hesitated, cold feet creeping in, but he shoved the feeling aside and forced himself to knock.

One knock. Two knocks. Three.

Just as he lifted his hand for a fourth, the door opened abruptly, and he froze. Romano stood there, towel in hand, drying his hair, still slightly damp from a recent wash. He was already dressed in clean clothes, the strands clinging a little to his face as he glanced up at Prussia.

Romano’s eyebrows knit together at the sight of the German, irritation spreading over his face almost immediately. “Oh, it’s you.” he spat.

The words landed harder than Prussia expected, coiling something unpleasant in his chest. Romano being genuinely angry at him wasn’t something he handled well.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to push through it anyway. “Uhm… do you think we could talk…?”

Southern Italy glared at him. “Talk? About what? You didn’t seem all that interested in talking reasonably a couple hours ago, and all of a sudden you want to talk.” He huffed. “Yeah, right.” He started to shut the door.

Alarm bells rang through Prussia’s mind, and before he could think better of it, he shoved his hand between the door and the frame, forcing it back open.

Romano glared at him with even more irritation. “Get your damn hand off my door!” he hissed.

Prussia didn’t move it. “Please listen to me…” he said, voice low and sincere, a hint of desperation edging into his tone. “I… uhm, I apologized to America. He’s not upset anymore. We’re on good terms.”

At that, Romano’s eyes widened slightly, his attempt to force the door shut easing. “You did?”

Prussia gave a firm nod. “Yes.”

Romano hesitated, something flickering across his expression as he considered it. Then he let out a small sigh and opened the door fully, stepping aside with a curt gesture for Prussia to enter.

Relief loosened the white-haired nation’s shoulders as he stepped inside. Behind him, he pulled the door partway closed, though it didn’t latch completely. Not that it mattered much anyway.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” the Italian asked as he tossed the towel onto the bed, then began fidgeting with a small decoration on the dresser.

Prussia shifted, suddenly aware of how awkward he felt. Still, he pushed on.

“Well, like I just said… I uhm, I apologized to America for my outburst. We talked it through. We’re fine now,” he said, then hesitated, searching for the right words. “Really, I apologized for everything I did. When you left… I had some time to think, and a bit of help…” he added, referring to Belgium, “…and I realized I’d been completely wrong about his intentions.”

Romano didn’t look at him. He just kept turning the decorative object between his fingers. “You don’t say?” he muttered.

“Uh… yeah. I realized he was just… trying to spend time with me because… well, he looks up to me. Thinks I’m cool or whatever, and wants to be like me. I just… I thought he meant something else.”

“As in?”

“Well…” the German shifted uncomfortably. “How do I put this… I thought he had feelings for you. That was why he kept tagging along. And I just got so angry at the idea…” He exhaled. “Jealous. Bitter. I was too blinded by that to see the truth.”

He hesitated, expecting the question before it even came: Why were you jealous? Romano didn’t even get the chance to fully form it before Prussia continued, stumbling over himself.

“Southern Italy, you see… I, erm… I got really out of sorts… jealous… because—ah…”

He broke off again, jaw tightening as he tried to force the words into something coherent. This wasn’t how he’d planned to speak his heart to the southern nation… especially not with Romano still looking annoyed at him and half-distracted by some damn decoration on a dresser. Still, there wasn’t likely to be a better moment...

Prussia drew in a breath, then let it out and tried again, a bit more bravely this time. “Because… I—”

That was a lie. He wasn’t more brave. Not even close. His heartbeat was loud in his ears, his palms uncomfortably damp, and his face far too warm. He swallowed hard.

“Because, well…” His gaze dropped before he could lose his nerve completely. If he kept looking at Romano, whatever courage he had left would crumble on the spot. “I… like you.” The words came out so strained… like they’d barely made it past his throat at all.

He gave an awkward chuckle. Man, he was dying on the inside. “And I don’t just like you as in, you’re fun to hang out with or anything, not that you aren’t, but…” He floundered for a second, words tripping over each other. “I like you as in… I harbour certain… affections for you.”

“Affections that make my mind go all hazy and unorganised anytime you’re close to me. That make me act stupid, and make me want to impress you. My heart goes all crazy, like someone’s squeezing it, and my stomach feels like it drops out from under me… in a good way, though. In the best way possible.”

“And I have plenty of reasons for it, okay? You’re awesome, and it’s fun to bicker with you, and you’re thoughtful, and you can be so sweet it makes my chest feel weird, and you have such… pretty eyes...” His voice dropped slightly, like he regretted saying it the second it left his mouth. “The list could really go on.”

“Uh, in short… I’m very certain you’ve captured my heart, and… well… I think I’m in love with you.”

He exhaled shakily, a faint, saddened frown settling on his face. “I’m… sorry I upset you by going off at America earlier… though you have to understand where I’m coming from. My heart… it just… bleeds for you, and I couldn’t help getting bitter at the thought that someone else might try to capture your affections in my stead.”

He paused, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes refusing to stay still. “I… uh… I don’t expect you to reciprocate anything. I just… needed to say this. I don’t know how else I could’ve explained myself… yeah. That’s… that’s about it, I think.”

His heart hammered so hard he was sure it had to be audible. Heat clung uncomfortably to his skin, and for a moment he genuinely wondered if he might faint if it got any worse. God… what would Romano say? Was he still mad? Disgusted? Would this change everything between them? And why wasn’t he saying anything yet? It was driving him insane…

But then, all of a sudden, Prussia heard Romano turn. The creak of wooden floorboards echoed softly through the room. Footsteps followed… and before he knew it, the Southern nation had come close. Too close.

Prussia’s thoughts scattered. For a moment, he genuinely felt like he might pass out. But he didn’t get the chance.

“I know.”

Those two words came from Romano.

I know…? Prussia thought in stunned silence. He knows what…? Huh? Unconsciously, he looked up at him, blinking in confusion. “Uhm…” he managed awkwardly, then cleared his throat. “You know… eh… what exactly?”

Romano tilted his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips, unfairly endearing. Prussia felt like he could’ve dropped dead on the spot and died happy. “I know you have… strong feelings for me,” Romano said quietly. “I’ve known.”

Upon hearing those words, Prussia’s mind stalled completely. His eyes snapped wide. “You… uh, what…?” he managed in a stunned, disbelieving tone.

Romano simply hummed and nodded. “Yes. I’ve known you’re basically head over heels for me for a while now. I mean… seriously, you’re about as subtle as a marching band. You can’t hide it to save your life.” He gave a quiet snicker.

Prussia only looked more confused. “You… knew…?” he echoed, deflated. “But… why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why should I have?”

“Because… I don’t know.” Prussia’s mouth pulled downward slightly, a faint, hurt expression forming. “You don’t… reciprocate my feelings? Is that why you never brought it up…?” He lowered his head a little, his chest tightening.

At that, Southern Italy stepped closer, lifting his gaze to Prussia with those pretty hazel eyes of his. Then, without hesitation, he reached up and cupped the German’s face, guiding his head back up.

The contact caught Prussia completely off guard. Oh. Oh wow… Romano was touching his face…

“No, idiot,” the Italian muttered. “Don’t start making things up. I didn’t bring it up because I was waiting for you to talk about it yourself, on your own terms. When you were ready.”

Prussia blinked at him, but it was hard to focus with Romano’s hands so warm against his cheeks. “Is that so…?”

“Yes.”

“So then…” the red-eyed man asked, a bit awkwardly, “Do you… feel the same way, or…?”

Romano looked almost embarrassed himself, though he didn’t let go. His hold on Prussia’s face tightened slightly as he blinked up at him, dark lashes framing those striking eyes. “What do you think?” he asked softly.

Prussia’s pulse jumped. “I… I uhm…” he stammered, completely thrown off. “I guess… it would… ah, be nice if you did…”

Romano let out a quiet chuckle. “Then there’s your answer.”

He released him and walked over to the bed, sitting down. The white-haired man stayed frozen for a second before quickly turning after him.

“Wait… so is that a yes?!” he blurted, scrambling over and sitting beside him.

Romano glanced at him, amused. He gave a small nod. “Yes, moron. It’s a yes.”

Oh. My. God. Romano felt the same way! Romano felt the same way! Ring the bells, sound the horns… this was revolutionary news!

An excited look spread over Prussia’s face, though there was relief in it too. He had been carrying these feelings for so long, unsure whether they would be reciprocated or not, questioning, wondering, hoping… and wow, they actually were!

Oh, wow. Wow.

“Oh my God… that’s… that’s… just… awesome… wow…” the German let out in a dazed tone, feeling as though he had just stepped through the pearly gates of Heaven and was now resting on the fluffiest cloud. That’s how good he felt inside.

Southern Italy snickered at Prussia’s expression, then cleared his throat. His tone was reluctant but honest as he spoke. “I always found you very… cool,” he admitted. “Especially with your past, and how you made a name for yourself.”

That snapped Prussia right out of his daze. “Really?” he asked quickly.

Romano gave a small nod. “Yeah. Your battles, your stories of glory… they sounded amazing to me. I was actually pretty excited to meet you when we first did.”

The Prussian blinked. “I thought you hated me, initially.”

“No, no, no,” Romano said immediately, shaking his head. “I’m just not good at expressing myself with new people… I never hated you.” His voice softened slightly. “I admire you. I always did.”

The words made Prussia’s chest constrict in a way that felt unexpectedly warm and pleasant.

“And… it’s not surprising that my admiration turned into something more once we got closer…” Romano continued, huffing a little like he was annoyed at himself for saying it out loud, though it came off almost affectionate. “So, yes. Of course my answer is yes.”

Wow. Prussia felt like he might actually cry. This was the best news he had heard in centuries. Romano…

But just as he started to get ahead of himself, something stopped him. He hesitated, then asked quietly, “But… if you knew how I felt about you… then why were you so angry when I snapped at America?”

He frowned, searching Romano’s face as he continued. “I mean, I get it. It wasn’t nice. It was a bad scene, and I was awful for it. But still, if you knew my reasoning, shouldn’t you have… I don’t know… not been that upset?”

He scratched the back of his neck, glancing aside for a second before looking back at the Italian. “Also, you’ve been… way more nice with America than with most nations that aren’t close to you. You were even more hostile with me when we barely knew each other than him. Sorry if it’s a dumb question, I’m just a little confused…”

South Italy hummed thoughtfully. “I wasn’t mad at you for yelling at America,” he said. “He kind of deserved it, honestly. He’s a moron and doesn’t think things through. However…”

“However?” Prussia echoed.

“I was more upset at the thought of you treating someone who looks up to you that way,” he said with a small sigh, his voice dropping slightly. “And that you didn’t even realize it, even though it was painfully obvious, thinking it was something else entirely.”

He hesitated, then continued more quietly, “That feeling… when someone you admire, someone you want to be like, ignores you… or worse, treats you like you’re nothing… says you’re a disgrace… it’s awful. I know what it’s like, wanting someone you idolize to notice you, to praise you, instead of feeling like you’re invisible to them.”

Romano looked away for a moment. “I wasn’t nicer toward America for any other reason than that I sympathize with him. I understand him. That’s why I never really said much, or complained when he wanted to tag along even when you only invited me.”

His expression tightened slightly. “And when you told him he was a disappointment… and disowned him so harshly back at the lake, it hurt to hear. That’s why I got so worked up.”

Prussia stared at the Italian with an empathetic look in his eyes. “Oh, Roma… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” the southern nation replied with a small exhale, turning his gaze back toward the German. “Besides, you said you apologized to him and that the two of you are on good terms now, so it’s alright.”

“But…” a small frown crept onto his face as he lifted a finger toward Prussia. “Don’t act like that again toward America. He admires you a whole damn lot. Treat him like you treat your younger brother, damn it!”

The red-eyed man nodded quickly, “I will! Don’t worry, South. He’s a good kid.”

“Good.”

“So, ehem… now that that’s out of the way…” Prussia cleared his throat slightly. “I have a question I want to ask you…”

“Hm?”

“If your feelings are anything like mine…” he started, then visibly struggled with the words. “Do you think we could… perhaps… be more than friends…?” The question came out so awkwardly it was almost like he’d choked on it, but he pushed through anyway, forcing himself to finish it.

Romano stared at him for a moment before a faint, sly smirk crossed his face. It disappeared just as quickly as he shifted slightly. “And what would that be?” he asked, tilting his head with a deliberately confused look.

“Uhm… you know…” Prussia stammered, visibly mortified.

Southern Italy gave a small shake of his head, blinking up at him with a mock puzzled expression. “I don’t know.”

God, he was messing with him, Prussia could tell! Did he really want him to have a heart attack here and now? Have some mercy…

The white-haired nation let out a strained, “Uh…” before mumbling, “I think… you do know…”

Romano’s eyes lidded slightly as he shifted closer to the Prussian, close enough that their legs brushed together, their arms pressed side by side, and only inches remained between their faces.

“You’re going to have to elaborate…” the southern nation whispered softly.

God, the way he said it nearly made Prussia lose his mind. His heart hammered against his ribs while his thoughts tangled into complete nonsense. Oh, Romano…

Gilbert’s eyes lowered half-shut as well, unconsciously leaning in until barely any space remained between them. He could feel his breathing quicken, his attention fixed entirely on the Italian’s face… on every beautiful feature, and especially his lips. They were so close.

“Do you want to be…” the Prussian murmured hazily, his voice low as he hovered mere millimetres from Romano’s mouth.

“Mmh?” the Italian hummed. He lifted a hand to Prussia’s face, fingers brushing slowly along his jaw.

God. Just let him kiss him already.

“My… lover?” the Prussian finally managed to ask.

Romano’s expression softened into something warm and affectionate. “I do.” And with that, he leaned in to close the distance between them… well… almost.

A loud screech suddenly cut through the air, making both nations freeze. Though, judging by the deeply offended look on Prussia’s face, the Prussian certainly wouldn’t have minded continuing…

Southern Italy blinked in confusion before turning toward the door, where the noise had come from. Prussia followed his gaze… and immediately stiffened. Clustered around the half-open doorway, awkwardly trying to peer inside, stood literally every nation staying at Spain’s estate. Spain himself was there, along with Belgium, her brothers, and even America, who seemed far too invested in what was happening.

…Oh.

Right. Prussia suddenly remembered he had never fully shut the door behind him…

“Uh…” he let out confusedly.

Beside him, Romano abruptly shot to his feet. To Prussia’s complete lack of surprise, the Italian’s face had gone several shades redder than normal, likely from sheer humiliation alone.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE ALL OF YOU DOING?!” Romano shouted.

The group outside collectively jolted like they had been caught committing a crime… which, honestly, they kind of had. Spain nearly stumbled over Belgium trying to straighten up, while America shamelessly craned his neck for another look anyway.

Prussia, meanwhile, buried his face in one hand with a groan. How long had they been standing there spying on them? And why?! Damn it… they had almost seen them kiss.

At Romano’s outburst, Belgium quickly stepped in front of the others and waved her hands dismissively. “Ah, sorry, Romano! We were just… curious whether you and Prussia would, well… finally wrap things up!”

Spain immediately leaned around her, looking far too excited for someone who had just been caught spying. “And you did! Ay, it was muy romántico! (very romantic) I nearly cried watching that!”

“Yes, it was very beautiful.” Luxembourg agreed with a small nod, while his older brother gave an approving hum beside him.

“Thanks for defending me, Romano!” America suddenly popped out from behind Spain with far too much energy. “You’re, like, surprisingly nice! And congrats on getting together! You guys seriously make an awesome couple!”

Well… that was surprisingly supportive, the German admitted to himself. Romano, however, looked absolutely horrified.

The Italian stormed toward the doorway and pointed furiously down the hall. “OUT! ALL OF YOU… GET THE HELL OUT!”

America instantly threw his hands up in surrender and backed away first. “Whoa, okay! Don’t gotta tell me twice!”

Luxembourg and Netherlands both offered Romano quick apologies before following after him. Spain and Belgium exchanged a glance, and then the Spaniard pointed at himself dramatically.

“Wait… even me?”

Romano shot him a flat glare. “Especially you.”

“Awh, alright, Romanito…” Spain sighed, visibly disappointed.

Belgium only smiled knowingly before grabbing Spain by the arm and tugging him away from the doorway. “Come on,” she said lightly. “Let them have their alone time.”

Then, with one last amused smile directed toward the flustered couple, she gently shut the door behind her, finally leaving the two of them alone again.

Southern Italy let out a long, irritated sigh and dragged a hand down his face. “Ugh… they’re way too nosy…” he muttered with a pout.

Prussia snorted softly. “They are.”

Still, his mind barely lingered on the interruption. All he could think about was how close they had been to kissing moments ago. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Anyways… ahem… do you think… we could maybe continue what we were doing before…?”

Romano turned toward him, the corners of his lips curling into a small smile. Without a word, he locked the door for good measure, shutting out any further interruptions. Then he returned to Prussia and stopped between his legs.

He cupped Prussia’s face gently in both hands before leaning down and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. And God, Prussia thought, now this… this had to be Heaven.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds before Romano pulled away, much to Prussia’s disappointment. The Prussian already found himself craving another. Romano studied him for a moment, thoughtful amusement dancing in his expression.

“How was that?” he asked.

“Sweet,” Prussia answered immediately, sliding an arm around Romano’s waist to pull him a little closer. “Very sweet.”

“Mhm…” Romano hummed softly.

His hands trailed from Prussia’s cheeks down along his neck until his fingers caught on the collar of his coat, idly toying with it. “Aren’t you hot in this?” he asked, peering down at him with a sultry look. “You should take it off.”

Prussia definitely wasn’t about to argue with that.

“Yeah…” he murmured, unable to look away from Romano’s eyes. “Really hot.”

Before long, his coat ended up discarded somewhere on the floor. His dress shirt followed soon after.

Romano’s gaze lingered on his bare chest as his fingers slowly traced over the muscle there, sending a pleasant shiver through the German.

“You’re so muscular…” Romano murmured.

Prussia chuckled. “Am I now? Well, I do like to work out.”

Romano rolled his eyes fondly before a tempting smile spread across his face. “I’ll give you a workout you’ll enjoy even more.”

And with that, he shoved Prussia backward onto the bed.

It was safe to say they missed dinner entirely.

It was also safe to say Prussia never forgot that night.