Chapter Text
If someone were to ask Prussia if he had ever been in love, he would straight up laugh and say no, insisting that someone as awesome as him could never experience something so childish and immature. But that would be a lie, because the truth was that he had been in love, and not just once, but twice. So why deny it? Well... the problem was that love had never worked out in his favor. The people he had loved had never loved him back.
His first love had been Hungary. He had loved her ever since they were young, back when they constantly bickered and sparred with each other. He loved her energy, her determination, and her persistent will to fight and win. He admired her devotion to her country and her loyalty to the people she cared about. She was exhilarating and, in many ways, a lot like him. Because of their long history and how similar they were, he had believed they were meant to end up together. To him, it had seemed like the most rational outcome.
But Hungary didn't love him back.
When he confessed his feelings to her, she rejected him and explained that her heart already belonged to someone else. That someone else turned out to be Austria... his cousin.
That had broken the Prussian’s heart. He couldn't understand why Hungary didn't love him but loved Austria instead. Austria was nothing like her. He was overly pompous, snobby, and barely able to hold his own ground in a fight. He was nowhere near her level of awesomeness!
Back then, Prussia had wanted to argue with her over her terrible taste in partners, but he held his tongue and respected her choice. He could see how deeply she loved his cousin, and he cared about her too much to take that happiness away from her.
Letting Hungary go had been difficult for him. He sulked for a long time and resented Austria far more than he liked to admit. Every time he saw the two of them together, happy and in love, he felt as if he were being stabbed in the chest Eventually, though, as the years passed, the ache in his heart slowly disappeared, and he managed to move on. They remained friends, and everything was right again. That is, until his second love.
His second love had been Italy. He didn't really know when it started or how it happened, but at some point he had fallen for the Italian, and he had fallen hard. And honestly, could he really be blamed? Italy was everything Prussia liked rolled into one person. He was as cute as could be, energetic, sociable, and so sweet that Prussia sometimes had to clutch his chest from cuteness overload whenever they spent time together. Italy was also incredibly kind, and that was something Prussia admired about him. Every time he talked to the Northern nation, he felt like he was floating on a soft cloud. Italy’s good nature made him want to become a better person himself.
Prussia had been certain that Italy was the one for him. They got along great, they were both lively, and they could talk to each other for hours without ever getting bored. They were basically the perfect match!
He had prepared himself to confess his feelings to the Italian, confident that it would go well, but he never actually got the chance... because... well... it turned out that his brother, Germany, was also in love with him. Not only that, but Italy himself was apparently in love with Germany as well.
(How come his family was always stealing his crushes? Seriously, what did they have that he didn’t?)
That hurt Prussia. He had thought that the second time he fell in love it would work out, but he had been a fool to believe that. Seemingly, love just wasn’t meant for him.
He had also assumed that after his first heartbreak, he would become somewhat immune to the next one, but this one broke his heart even more than the last. He ended up bawling his eyes out for days. He was in so much pain, yet he said nothing about his feelings and simply kept his mouth shut.
Why? Because he loved his brother more than he could put into words, and he knew how devastated Germany would be if he ever told him, “Hey, I’m also in love with the person you love, and I’m going to fight you for him.” Prussia could never do that to him...
So he simply watched them get together and live their beautiful love story while he suffered in silence.
Grrreat.
The former nation tried to move on from Italy the same way he had moved on from Hungary, but that proved to be far more difficult than he had anticipated. With Hungary, he had been able to keep his distance from her and slowly let his feelings for her die down over time. With Italy, however, that was impossible, because the Italian visited Germany almost every month, and since Prussia lived with his brother, seeing him was unavoidable.
It was… um... a grueling cycle, to say the least.
Whenever Italy left, Prussia would start to feel better, and for a while he could almost convince himself that he was finally moving on from him. But the moment Italy returned and he had to watch him and Germany act hopelessly in love with each other, every bit of progress he had made disappeared.
It was pathetic, especially since years had already passed and he still couldn’t let go of the Northern nation, but it wasn’t like he could actually do anything about it. It was his heart’s choice whether to give up on Italy or not, and if it chose not to, then he simply had to endure it, even if it was extremely gut-wrenching.
Anyway, that was basically the story of his love life. Not very awesome, if you asked him. It probably sounded unbelievable, though, because who in their right mind wouldn't love the awesome Prussia? But it was true. Apparently, no one actually did. It made him wonder why... he watched the people around him have their feelings returned, while that never seemed to happen for him. What was so wrong with him that nobody could love him back? Was he really such a terrible person to love?
So, to spare himself the embarrassment, he lied. He kept telling everyone that love had no place in his heart, even though there was nothing he wanted more than to love someone and be loved back.
Prussia sighed, his shoulders slumping with disappointment as he leaned back in his chair. He lifted the beer in his hand and took a sip of it, but its taste, which he normally enjoyed, felt bitter on his tongue. Lowering the bottle, he looked away from it and let his gaze drift toward the couple cuddling on the couch... Germany and Italy to be more exact.
He and his brother had traveled to Austria a few days ago to visit their cousin. While they were there, Italy thought it would be a good idea for them to come to his place as well, since they were close to his part of Italy and all. Prussia was reluctant at first because he knew he would feel miserable seeing him, but Germany wanted him to come along, and Italy had said he wanted to see him too... and Prussia was far too weak to say no to either of them. In the end, he gave in and accepted his fate, agreeing to go to Italy.
Now he was stuck at Italy’s place in Venice, forced to watch his brother and his crush be disgustingly affectionate with each other while trying to keep his heart from fizzling out in his chest. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, to put it mildly.
The good thing was that Italy had bought them beer, so at least he could try to fill the emptiness in his chest with alcohol. It wasn’t exactly moral, but fuck it, he needed something to dull the ache in his heart somehow.
Prussia stared at the couple for a moment longer before looking away from them, his gaze eventually settling on Romano, who was sitting in an armchair on the other side of the room.
Oh, right. Romano was also here. Apparently his boss had sent him to Venice for some work-related matters he needed to discuss with Italy, and the younger Italian had thought it would be “super cool,” as he put it, if he stayed a while longer to hang out with him and the Germans at his place. Romano had flat-out refused at first, but Italy had begged him until he ultimately relented. Even so, Prussia could tell he wasn't happy about it, especially judging by the deep frown on his face.
The former nation tilted his head slightly as he studied the older Italian more closely. Unlike him and Italy, Prussia and Romano weren't really friends. They were, well, acquaintances of sorts, but not particularly friendly ones. Prussia took pride in the fact that he could get along with almost anyone, but with Romano… ah… he really couldn't find it in himself to get on with him.
The truth was that Romano was a very difficult person to get along with. While Italy was sweet, friendly, and oh so very nice, Romano was rude, sharp-tongued, and a jerk to just about everyone around him, Prussia included.
Those were traits Prussia didn't like in a person. He liked spunky people he could bicker with, but only when both parties were having fun and no one meant any real harm by what they said. Romano was spunky, no doubt about that, but he had a mouth on him… God, did he have a fucking mouth on him… and nothing he said was ever meant as a joke. He said hurtful things and meant every word of them, and he never took anything back no matter how cruel it was. It wasn't fun, especially if you were on the receiving end of his verbal attacks.
He didn't understand how the two Italians could be so different. They had grown up separately, yes, but they had both been raised by good people, especially Romano. Spain was a literal angel! How the hell did Romano end up being such a jerk? It made no flipping sense!
Every time he had to interact with the older Italian, Romano would throw a hissy fit and annoy the living daylights out of him, and Prussia would have to physically hold himself back from snapping at him in return. Romano had the worst attitude Prussia had ever seen! Seriously, he didn't get how Italy and Spain could put up with him when all Romano seemed to do was hurt them.
So yeah, he didn't really like Romano. Well, he didn't hate him either, but he couldn't say he cared for him in the same way he cared for Italy. To put it simply, he tolerated him and tried his best to act somewhat civil towards him. But that was only because of three reasons, and if those reasons didn't exist, he could admit that he probably wouldn't have put up with him.
First, Romano was still Italy, and beyond loving its Northern representation, Prussia loved the country as a whole. He loved its history and culture and admired how much it had developed and grown over the years. Because of that, he cared for the lands Romano represented just as much as he did for Italy’s.
Second, Italy would definitely be upset if he treated Romano poorly, and that alone was enough to make Prussia think twice before speaking to Romano, since he hated seeing the younger Italian sad.
And third... um, this one felt a bit immoral to admit... Romano was cute. In that regard, Prussia could say Italy and Romano were alike, because they were both so freaking cute. And Prussia had a soft spot for anything cute, so he could never fully bring himself to dislike Romano when the man had the most endearing pout he had ever seen, aside from Italy’s, of course.
The former nation blinked, then slowly dragged his gaze across the older Italian’s form. Romano had his arms crossed tightly over his chest, scowling as he stared at Germany and Italy, who looked seconds away from practically sucking each other’s faces off.
Now that was one thing Prussia could say he and Romano had in common, and probably the only one: they both disliked their brothers’ relationship.
Romano seemed to grimace as he watched their brothers exchange a soft kiss, quickly turning his head away from the sickening display. As he did so, his eyes accidentally locked with Prussia’s, and for a moment he looked surprised to find him blatantly staring at him. Then his frown deepened and he looked down at the floor, muttering something under his breath that Prussia couldn't hear from so far away, not that he cared to anyway.
The ex-nation took another sip of his beer and watched as Romano shifted restlessly in his seat for a couple of seconds, which was a bit uncharacteristic of him, before he eventually stood up, said something in Italian to Italy, and left the room. Prussia followed him with his gaze until he turned the corner and disappeared. Romano seemed angrier than usual. Huh. Weird. Prussia raised a brow in confusion before shrugging and returning to his beer.
More time passed, and he ended up finishing the whole bottle. He was in the middle of debating whether to get another one when Italy suddenly detached himself from Germany and waved at him from the couch to get his attention.
“Hey, Prussia, do you mind doing something for me real quick?” the brunet asked with a small, worried smile on his face. “It’s very important.”
The former nation stared at him in confusion for a second, then quickly straightened up in his seat and nodded. Italy was trusting him with something important!
“Sure, little Italy. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it!” he replied excitedly, smiling back at him as his sadness slowly began to melt away. “You know I’m on board with anything you throw at me, haha!”
He liked it when Italy relied on him. It made him feel special. By now, he should've trained himself to stop feeling this way, but he simply couldn’t help it. Love was complicated like that.
“Great!” the Northern nation exclaimed, clasping his hands together. “Then can you please go check on Romano and see if he’s okay? He told me he was going to get some fresh air to clear his head and that he’d be back in five minutes, but it’s already been fifteen minutes and he still hasn’t returned. I’m a bit worried for him… he seemed upset, so I just want to know that he’s okay.”
Hearing that, Prussia deflated like a popped balloon. Ah, he wasn't on board with that at all. Whatever excitement he had felt vanished in an instant, and he could feel himself getting sad all over again. What an idiot he was for getting himself so hyped up like that.
“Well… er… are you sure you want me to go after him? You know Romano can’t stand my guts, so I’m sure he’d get even more upset if I just got all up in his business like that.” Prussia said awkwardly, not really knowing how to tell the younger Italian that he didn’t want to go after his brother and risk getting yelled at.
“Oh, that’s nonsense! Romano doesn’t hate you. I’m sure he enjoys your company and would be very happy if you checked on him!” Italy responded with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Prussia gritted his teeth and looked away. He knew for a fact that Romano wouldn’t be happy at all if he stuck his nose in his affairs. Damn it. Italy was too nice to realize that his brother wasn't the good person he made him out to be.
“I don’t know… can’t you just go after him? I mean, I’m sure he’d be way happier if his brother went after him than, uh, me.” Prussia said, glancing back at Italy as he tried to reason with him.
Italy’s face twisted into a disappointed expression. “Come on, Prussia, please? I really want to cuddle with Germany right now. You know how badly I miss him when we’re apart. It’s not every day that I get to see him.” he said with pleading eyes before practically gluing himself back to the blond and making a show of snuggling up to him.
Prussia’s chest squeezed painfully. He swallowed hard and tried to respond, but found that his throat had suddenly closed up, and he couldn’t get a single word out. Augh, fuck. Why did he have to be this pathetic?
“Please, Bruder (brother), just go see if he’s fine, and then you can come back and continue doing… whatever it is that you’re doing.” Germany pressed on.
Prussia looked at his brother, his lips pressing into a thin line. He wanted to argue, but he knew it would be pointless. With a tired sigh, he simply nodded in resignation, stood up, tossed his empty beer bottle aside, and left the room.
As he walked down the hallway, he could hear his pulse pounding in his ears. He stopped for a moment, trying to regain his composure because, god damn it, he wasn’t acting awesome at all right now. Once the tension in his body began to ease, he ran a hand through his hair and started walking again.
He guessed he was going to check on Romano after all. Ugh, he really didn't want to, but whatever. He had done worse things in his life.
Though... if Prussia was being honest, he did feel a bit better now that he wasn’t in the same room as his brother and Italy anymore. It had started to feel far too suffocating in there with them doing their whole love charade.
God, he seriously needed to get over the younger Italian. This was ruining him in the worst way possible. It was only a matter of time before his brother or, God forbid, Italy himself figured out what was going on with him, and fuck, that definitely wouldn’t end well.
The former nation shook his head, then opened the door to Italy’s room, crossed it, and stepped out onto the balcony connected to it. He glanced around, expecting to find Romano there, only to discover it was empty, with no sign of the Southern nation anywhere.
A slight frown crossed his face. He turned on his heel and headed back inside, then made his way toward another room he knew had a balcony. To his surprise, Romano wasn't there either.
Prussia scratched the back of his head in confusion. Well, apparently Romano had disappeared.
The German decided to give up searching for him, since it was pretty clear the Italian didn't want to be found.
Shrugging, he went back into the apartment and continued down the hallway. He figured he could simply lie to Italy and say Romano was fine, then get another beer and continue drowning his sorrows in a very unawesome way. However, as he walked, something caught his eye. A door he had never noticed during any of his previous visits to Italy’s house stood slightly ajar.
He stared at it for a moment before curiosity got the better of him. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was filled with art supplies, canvases, and scattered paintings. Prussia could only assume it was some kind of art room, given Italy’s love of painting.
He glanced around, briefly captivated by the artwork, when a sudden gust of cold air swept past him. He shivered and turned toward its source in puzzlement. The room turned out to have a small balcony attached to it, and the glass door leading outside was wide open.
He blinked, his gaze drifting across the balcony until he noticed a silhouette standing there. He squinted for a moment before realizing it was Romano.
Bingo, Prussia thought to himself. He almost smiled at finally finding him. Almost.
The former nation wanted to walk over to him, check if he was fine, and then leave as quickly as possible so he wouldn't have to interact too much with the older Italian. But he stopped in his tracks when he noticed that Romano was smoking.
Romano was leaning against the railing with a cigarette in one hand, while the other supported his head as he stared up at the dark sky. From where he stood, Prussia could make out part of his face, and for once the Southern nation wasn't frowning or glaring at anything. Instead, he looked almost… sad. Was that even the right word? Prussia wasn't sure, but he couldn't think of any other way to describe the expression on Romano's face.
He stayed still for a second, then slowly shifted to the side so he could see Romano better. When Romano was calm like this, he wasn't nearly as irritating as he usually was. In fact, he looked a lot like Italy. Prussia stared at him for a long time, watching the smoke curl from his lips and fade into the air. Without meaning to, a sudden thought crossed his mind: what if he got together with Romano?
Romano was basically another version of Italy, just a much meaner one, yet he was still exactly Prussia’s type. If he really thought about it, being with Romano would almost be like being with Italy. Maybe if he dated the older Italian, he could finally fill the void in his heart and get rid of the feelings he still carried for the younger one.
Prussia considered the thought, then quickly shook his head. No, that would be wrong. No matter how unpleasant Romano could be, he still had feelings of his own. If Prussia dated him just because of his brother and Romano found out the truth, it would hurt him. It was a cruel thing to do. Prussia couldn't stoop that low.
The former nation exhaled and took a couple of steps toward the balcony, but before he could reach it, he nearly tripped over something on the floor. He cursed under his breath and looked down, realizing he had almost stumbled over a painting. Sheesh. He had forgotten just how messy the Northern nation could be. Italy really needed to clean this place up once in a while.
He crouched down and picked up the painting, then stood again, intending to place it on a dresser or somewhere out of the way. But as he looked at it, he froze. The canvas showed a sketch of his brother surrounded by small hearts, signed in the corner with Italy’s signature. Prussia felt his stomach drop.
God fucking damn it. Why did he keep getting reminded that Italy loved Germany so much, and not him? It wasn't fair. What did his brother have that he didn't? He was the most awesome nation there was!
His grip tightened around the painting.
It didn't matter, though. Even if he was as awesome as he was, Italy would never love him. He would always choose Germany over him. Germany was his one true love, and Prussia was nothing more than another face in the crowd to him.
Fuck.
He was so unlucky when it came to love. Why? Why couldn't he be loved back? What made him so unworthy of it? All he wanted was to be loved.
He clenched his jaw, his hands trembling with anger. Before he fully realized what he was doing, he raised the painting, wanting nothing more than to throw it and watch it shatter against the wall. He was seconds away from doing it when a voice suddenly called out to him.
“What the hell are you doing, bastard?”
Prussia flinched slightly, almost dropping the painting, then slowly turned around to see Romano facing him. The Italian had his arms tightly crossed over his chest as he glared at him, flicking ash from his cigarette.
The German could only stare at him for a long moment before quickly lowering his hand and forcing an awkward smile onto his face. Damn it, this was embarrassing. He shouldn't have let his anger get the better of him. He was supposed to be above this. Italy would hate him if he broke a painting he had made, especially one of Germany. What was wrong with him?
“I was just, uh…” Prussia searched for an excuse. “Stretching… yeah, I was stretching!” he said quickly, nodding. “All that sitting around really messed with my back, haha.”
“Stretching?” Romano raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced. “With Veneziano’s painting in your fucking hand? Yeah, right. That’s the worst excuse you could've come up with.” he huffed and leaned back against the railing, taking a long drag of his cigarette before exhaling a thick stream of smoke.
“Were you going to throw that at me? Because if you were, that’s really fucked up. I know you like your stupid jokes, but that crosses a line. I’m literally on the balcony. Do you understand how dangerous it is to throw random shit at me?” Romano hissed, then clicked his tongue and looked away. “No, of course you don’t, because you don’t use that fucking head of yours for anything.”
Prussia’s smile faltered, and he frowned. “Don’t just assume things like that. I wasn’t going to throw anything at you. Geez, I’m not that insensitive. Way to go, mister negative. You always think the worst of everyone. Try being a little more positive for once. I’m sure it would do you some good and maybe even make people want to talk to you instead of avoiding you.” he shot back, earning a scowl from the Southern nation that sent a strange twist of satisfaction through him. If Romano was going to be a jerk, then he would be one right back at him.
“Then what were you doing, dumbass?” Romano snapped, gripping his cigarette tighter. “Trying to give me a heart attack so I fall off the balcony and break my neck?”
“No! Seriously, where are you getting this from?” Prussia groaned. “If you really want to know for your precious peace of mind, little Italy was worried about you because you were apparently upset or something, so he sent me to check on you. I tripped over this thing and got a bit angry, and I may or may not have wanted to smash it against the wall.” he sighed, looking down briefly before meeting Romano’s eyes again. “There. You have your answer. Happy?”
The Italian’s lips twisted into a grimace and he shook his head. “No. Not at all.” he replied, taking another drag from his cigarette and exhaling sharply.
Prussia rolled his eyes and bit back the colorful curse sitting on the tip of his tongue before placing the painting on the dresser, where several other canvases were stacked. When he turned back toward Romano, he noticed the Italian’s gaze drift toward the painting. Romano stared at it for a moment, his scowl deepening slightly before he quickly looked away and turned his attention back to the city below. For a brief second, he looked almost hurt.
Strange.
Prussia felt inclined to ask what that was about, even though he didn't really care all that much, but before he could, Romano spoke again.
“Well, you saw me and now know that I’m fine. You can go back to Veneziano and tell him to stop worrying about me.”
“Right.” Prussia mumbled.
Romano didn't look fine at all, but whatever. Prussia should just mind his own business. Romano would deal with whatever was bothering him on his own. Besides, Prussia was annoyed with him now and would rather leave than drag out this hostile conversation between them any longer. Man, they really couldn't get along.
The former nation turned to leave, but as he reached the door and pushed it open, he glanced back at Romano. The Italian’s expression had softened again, and Prussia couldn't help but repeat to himself that Romano really did look a lot like Italy like this... Wow. Especially in the dim light, where he couldn’t see the green of his eyes or the darker shade of his hair. If he hadn’t known it was Romano standing there, he could've almost mistaken him for the Northern nation.
Without wanting to, the thought from earlier crept back into his mind. Maybe he should get together with Romano...
Prussia narrowed his eyes slightly, then shook his head and forced himself to look away from the Southern nation, turning his attention down the hallway instead. He shouldn't be thinking like this. It was wrong on so many levels. Romano didn't deserve this.
But then he heard faint laughter coming from the living room. He could make out Italy’s voice and Germany’s, both of them sounding so happy together that his throat suddenly felt dry. He wanted to be happy too, even if only for a little while. He wasn’t asking for much.
His hands slowly curled into fists as he inhaled sharply, then let out a long breath. He looked back at Romano, pressing his fingernails into his palms hard enough to leave marks.
He should leave. He should fucking leave right now.
But no matter how many times he repeated that to himself, his legs refused to move. His gaze stayed fixed on the older Italian and the slow drag he took from his cigarette. Before Prussia could stop himself, he walked back toward him.
He stepped onto the balcony, and Romano looked mildly surprised to see him return before his expression hardened into another glare.
“The fuck are you doing? I thought you already left.”
The ex-nation didn't respond right away. He simply stepped closer to him and leaned back against the railing, letting the cold wind sweep through his hair. Romano’s expression immediately twisted into disgust, and he scooted a step away from him.
“I almost did,” Prussia said after a while with a shrug, looking up at the starry sky. “But then I realized I wanted some fresh air too.”
Romano huffed. “Great, so you decided to come here and annoy me. There are two other balconies you could've gone to that aren't being used right now, idiot. You don't have to hog this one specifically.”
“Yeah, but I was already here, so this was the closest option. It would've been a waste of energy to go anywhere else.” Prussia replied simply.
Hearing that, the Italian’s expression soured like a lemon. “Maybe you haven’t noticed because your thick skull can’t read social cues, but I came here to be alone. If I wanted you here, I would've asked you to be here. But I didn’t, so do us both a favor and scram before I decide to punch you in the face and knock your teeth out.”
The German glanced at Romano and gave him a tight smile. “What? You don’t want me bothering you during your edgy time? You know, it’s said that human interaction helps lift one’s spirits, so you shouldn’t be so prickly. I’m actually doing you a favor by being here. I’m helping you be less sad. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“I’m not fucking sad!” Romano bristled. “And you’re not helping me with anything! All you’re doing is getting on my nerves!”
Prussia turned more toward him, studying the deep frown on his face and the strands of hair falling into his eyes. He tilted his head slightly. “Okay, if you're not sad, then why were you making that pitiful face earlier?”
Romano seemed to deflate for a second, biting his lip before quickly shaking his head and regaining his composure. “I wasn’t making any face. I was simply enjoying the sound of my own thoughts, which, by the way, I haven’t been able to do since you showed up!” he hissed, pointing accusingly at the former nation.
Prussia raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Because it looked like you were throwing yourself a pity party. A really pathetic one, if I'm being honest.”
Romano’s eye twitched. “How about you try minding your own business for once instead of sticking your nose into mine? You sure as hell didn't look ecstatic tonight either, but I didn't go around pointing it out or poking at you about it. We're not friends. I don't owe you anything. So take your nosy ass and leave me the hell alone!”
At that, Prussia’s teasing mood vanished, and his expression darkened. “I am happy.” he replied sharply, ignoring the rest of what Romano had said.
The Southern nation scoffed. “Uh-huh. I totally believe you.”
Prussia gritted his teeth. This guy…! How dare he assume he wasn’t happy. It was true, but still!
He opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it and closed it again. Arguing wouldn’t change anything anyway. Instead, he reached out and took the cigarette straight from Romano’s hand. He took a slow drag from it, feeling his body gradually relax as the nicotine hit his system.
Damn… this was some good stuff.
“Hey, what the—that’s mine, you bastard!” the Italian exclaimed in slight shock, then growled and tried to snatch the cigarette from Prussia’s grip.
The German simply held the cigarette out over the railing and kept Romano at arm’s length, preventing him from clawing his eyes out. “Come on now, don’t be greedy. Sharing is caring, after all.”
“Not when it comes to you!” Romano snapped, then groaned in frustration and stepped back. “Sarei dovuto tornare a casa, cazzo! (I should've gone home, damn it!)” he muttered, then gestured angrily at Prussia. “You're the most ignorant, uncivil person I have ever had the misfortune of knowing! You're a total jerk who cares about no one but himself, and you can't take a hint for God’s sake! No, actually, you can take a hint, but you refuse to, because you're—you're a fucking asshole!”
Prussia blinked while listening to Romano bad mouth him. It was kinda frustrating, since none of it was true, but he couldn’t bring himself to care all that much. Instead, his attention drifted to the faint flush spreading across Romano’s cheeks, growing deeper as the Italian became angrier by the second. Prussia found himself thinking that he looked almost... cute like that. He couldn’t help but wonder what Romano would look like if he were genuinely flustered instead of just angry.
Before he realized what he was doing, he asked, “Do you want to go out with me?”
Hearing that, Romano froze. His eyes widened in surprise, and his anger faded almost completely. He stared at the ex-nation for a long moment, trying to process his words, before shaking his head and rasping out in an unsure voice, “What did you just say…?”
Prussia took another drag from the cigarette and exhaled slowly, then repeated himself. "I said, do you want to go out with me?"
“You’re asking me to go out…? Like… outside?” Romano asked skeptically.
“No, like on a date,” the German clarified. “You know, restaurants, movies, all that romantic crap.”
The Southern nation frowned. “With... you?”
“Yeah. That’s what I said, isn't it?”
Hearing that, Romano fell silent, looking deeply conflicted. "You're... messing with me, aren't you? You should know this isn't funny. This is the worst kind of joke you could've pulled."
“I’m not joking, though. I’m being serious. I want to go out with you.” Prussia stated.
Romano’s frown deepened. “You actually want to go out… with me?”
Prussia nodded.
“You… what is wrong with you?!” Romano exclaimed. “How can you possibly want to go out with me? We can't stand each other! I hate you, and you clearly don't like me either! All we do is argue! We have never gotten along in our lives! We literally just fought seconds ago! We're not even friends! There are about a hundred reasons why we shouldn't go out!” he threw his hands up in frustration, staring at the German as if he'd completely lost his mind.
Prussia stayed quiet for a second, then shrugged. “I like you.”
“You like me? And yet you treat me like shit.”
“I like you in a very specific way.” Prussia elaborated.
“Really? And what way is that?”
“The… Prussian way.”
Romano facepalmed. “Yeah, right. You could've at least come up with something better than that. You’re a terrible liar!”
“I’m not lying.” the former nation retorted, knowing damn well that he was.
Romano shot him an unimpressed look. “Okay, then what exactly do you like about me?”
Prussia paused to think, then replied slowly, "Your... face."
At that, the Italian's expression contorted in disgust. “That’s the most shallow thing I’ve ever heard come out of someone’s mouth.”
Prussia winced, then added, “Your personality?”
Romano rolled his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath in Italian before gesturing angrily at the German. “I know damn well you can’t stand my personality, so don’t you dare use that as a save, you egocentric dumbass!”
Prussia huffed. “Whatever. Just tell me if you'll go out with me or not.”
Romano stared at him in disbelief. “No! I’m not going out with you! How can you even think I’d say yes to that? I’d rather slit my own veins than ever date an arrogant jerk like you!”
Prussia gave him a long look. Well... this was to be expected. He had no real chance with Romano. The guy simply hated his guts too much. What a shame. He would've liked to date a part of Italy.
Prussia sighed and briefly considered backing off his advances toward the Southern nation, but then he noticed Romano fidgeting with his hands and the faint tension in his posture, and he stalled.
Wait a second… was Romano hesitating?
Holy fuck.
A sudden rush of excitement ran through Prussia at the realization. Romano was actually considering his offer. No way! He wondered why... maybe he thought he was attractive or something. That would be ironic, considering how often he complained about hating Germans. Regardless, he wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip away. He was going to make Romano his!
“You sure about that, South?” Prussia said with a small grin, stepping closer to the Italian. “Don’t you want to see what it’s like to date the awesome Prussia? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“No.” Romano replied through gritted teeth.
“Come on, it’ll be fun. I can be a very romantic partner, you know. You Italians love that sort of thing, don’t you? All that romantic stuff.”
“Yeah, but only when it’s with people we actually fucking like. I don’t like you.”
“Psh, you don’t really need to like someone to date them.”
“Uh, yeah, you do. That’s literally the point of dating, dumbass!” Romano snapped.
Prussia just waved a dismissive hand. “Details,” he said, then quickly added, “Plus, if we dated, we wouldn’t be so lonely when our brothers are off making out, because we’d be doing the exact same thing. Come on, South, I know you’re lonely all by yourself like this. Don’t you want that to change?”
The Southern nation went still for a brief moment, his eyes locked intensely on Prussia’s. His pupils seemed to dilate slightly as he stared at him, and for a fleeting second, he almost looked like he might give in. But then he blinked, grimaced, and shook his head.
“No, no!” he exclaimed, stumbling back to put some distance between them. “My answer is no. You can ask me this over and over again, and I’ll tell you no every single fucking time,” he hissed. “I don’t know what got into you, but we will never work, whether as a joke or anything serious. We’re too different. If we got together, all we’d do is hurt each other. So stop this, for both our sakes.” he let out a small exhale, then turned toward the balcony door. “I’m going back to Veneziano. You… you do whatever you want. Just leave me the hell alone.”
With that, Romano left the balcony, leaving Prussia alone. The former nation watched as the Italian crossed the room and pulled open the door. Just before stepping into the hallway, though, Romano glanced back at him. There was a faint, conflicted look on his face, and in that instant Prussia realized he had him. A second later, Romano disappeared into the hallway.
Prussia stared at the empty space where the Italian had stood just moments ago, then turned away and leaned against the railing. He looked down at the streets below, watching the people go about their day, and let out a small sigh.
He was a terrible person for this. Toying with Romano’s feelings like some kind of sadist. A small flicker of guilt stirred in his chest, but he shoved it aside. It didn’t matter. His own feelings were being messed with, so he had every right to do this. He needed this. He needed Romano. Romano was the closest thing Prussia could have to what he truly wanted. Besides, he wasn't going to truly hurt Romano, so everything would work itself out in the end.
Yeah. South Italy was going to be his.
With that thought in mind, he flicked the cigarette over the railing and watched it hit the pavement below before burning out. Then he ran a hand through his hair and left the balcony, heading back into the living room where the rest of the nations were gathered.