Fluffy Bordem Hetalia Shorts

Großer Bruder Preußen

"Hey, Vest!" A centuries old albino screamed cheerfully as he stomped through the house, the dogfs following him. "Ich got zhe beer!"

Germany grumbled under his breath, gently placing his glasses on the side table and settling a bookmark in his book. "Bruder... How many times to ich have to tell you to keep quiet in mien house?" The younger personification asked, raising a brow at his brother.

Prussia furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. "Vell... Zhere vas yesterday, zhe day before, zhe day before zhat, zhen zhe day before zhat, und... Everyday before zhat." He muttered. "So, pretty much every day you say zhat, und every day, zhe awesome me ignores you! Because ich am awesome und your older bruder! Plus, mien less awesome friends are coming for a party later, so it's going to be really loud!" The Prussian shouted, his grin returning and he darted into the kitchen.

The younger German sighed, heaving himself out of his seat. "Zhis is my house. I'm letting you live here. Ask me before you through a party." He told the albino.

"Ja, zhis might be your house, but zhe awesome me helped Vati raise you, und vithout zhe awesome me, you'd be dead, und someone else would be the personification of..." The old, but bright red eyes saddened as he dropped his gaze to the tiled floor. "Germany could have a different personification. Someone ozher zhan mien kleiner bruder."

Ludwig's expression softened. He still couldn't remember much from his days as Holy Rome, but he knew he was once that personification. He remembered waking up, smothered in bandages and blood and torn cloth. He remembered hearing a familiar voice sobbing, praying for a miracle. He had opened his eyes and saw the shaking Prussian on his knees and leaning on his arm that pressed against the high . His knuckles were incredibly white from his tightly wound fist, and tears streaked his pale cheeks. Ludwig had gotten up and made his way to the man, and, for an unknown reason, hugged him. "It's OK," he had told him. He remembered the shock in those striking, sorrowful eyes before he was nearly crushed in a hug.

Sighing, Ludwig pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Have your party."

Gilbert whooped, instantly cheering up. "Awesome!"

~-Ludwig's dream that night after the party-Germany's POV~

My eyes were incredibly heavy. My body pulsed a dull ache all throughout. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to give into the darkness. But I knew I couldn't. Not yet. I had to do something. But... What was it? What was so important that I couldn't give up, even though I couldn't even make myself so much as twitch.

Holy Rome! A gentle voice called in my head. Oh yeah... Italy... Her pushbroom is back in my tent. I want to see her again. My thoughts sounded so distant, but I kept them constant, hoping to keep strong until I was found so I could see her. Oh, but how hard it is. I just want to let go. Especially of all this pain. All I can smell is the sickening, irony smell of blood. I could even taste it.