Ahh...Germany's pasta leaves much to be desired, but there's just a special pizzazz in everything he makes... the Italian pondered, abandoning his pesto-smeared plate.
On that thought, where is Germany, anyway? Is he hanging out with Russia? I hope not...he's soo creepy...anyhow, let's take a look in his room, shall we?
Wow, his room's soo tidy and sparkly! But alas, I'll have to search elsewhere...farewell, Germany's room! Auf Wiedersehen, sweetheart!
Where did that come from? Huh...ok, I'll take a look in Japan's room, then!
Oh, mio dio! The smell! Did he die and rot in here or something? How did it get so messy, too? OOH! Look! Look! Look! Japan and (y/n) are sleeping next to each other! Toocutetoocutetoocu- wait, what's that book beside (y/n)'s head?
Tagebuch...? But doesn't that mean...?
>>>>>>>>>>>>Timescip
"Italy? Italy, how long have you been here?" (Y/n) groaned, glaring at the squatting Italian through one (e/c) eye.
"Not long...tee hee!"
"What're laughing a-!" She started, but upon discovering the answer by her self, she clenched her jaw tight as she turned her attention to the slumbering nation beside her. Individual blades of his jet-black hair stood up in opposing directions- the kind of bed-head look that models waste hundreds of money on- and leaned across the milky flesh of his face. A soft, sparsely audible hum escaped his acutely parted lips as he inched closer to (y/n), his hand travelling from her forearm to her shoulder-
"Kiku kun."
Like a meerkat, he sprang up and five metres away from (y/n); the peaceful, angelic, and slumbering side of Kiku had been abandoned, shredded, torn and disposed of like a reptile shedding it's scales. The constant stream of apologies had began to flow from behind Japan's hand, as per usual, and so (y/n) turned the other cheek and addressed the slightly more problematic situation, "so what 'cha doing here, Italy?"
His permanent smile never wavering, Italy chimed, "oh, yeah! I was looking for Luddy, 'cause France called me and said he was inviting us all to...um...somewhere, but he said it was going to be a surprise!" He rocked back and forth on his crossed legs, in attempt to satisfy the insatiable energy bursts from his carbohydrate- filled breakfast, "it sounds so wow, doesn't it? But I need to tell Lud the address as soon as possible, or I'll forget and he won't go, because he won't even start the engine of his car if his GPS hasn't got the directions and stuff."
"I see," Japan mused- his flustered apology session had concluded several moments prior- a faint smile spreading across his face, "I believe Germany San is in the garage."
"Oh, grazie!" The eccentric Italian sung, swooping to speedily peck (y/n) on both cheeks and succeed in frightening Japan to the opposite side of the room for the sake of his personal space. "Ci vediamo, guys!"
As Italy danced through the door frame, Japan and (y/n) exchanged a look of both excitement and concern- as if they where about to ride a roller coaster.
"H-he read Doitsu' s man diary...would this hinder our master plan?" (Y/n) voiced, surveying the final draft of 'The Gerita Project'.
"Did he read the plot?" Japan asked, confusion lacing his words.
"I'm not sure" (y/n) confessed, "but either way, our plan in set in motion. Now it's either going to fly to the other side of the rainbow, or fall of a cliff."
YOU ARE READING
(Reader x Aph Japan and Gerita) The Gerita Project
Hayran Kurgu'It'd be inhumane to make two people love each other...forcefully...' Requests have been sent, fanfictions have been read, fan art has been drawn, and minute by minute humanity is suffering the dolor of Germany and Italy being 'so close and yet so f...
