Tendrils of darkness engulfed the world around him. Germany fought a shudder, as the sharp eyes of a soldier darted around the pitch black room. He strained his ears, hoping to hear something. Anything. After all, Italy did have a tendency to pop out of the strangest places...
When there was nothing, he sighed, allowing himself to be embraced by the shadows. His hands groped around for a switch, and he soon clicked upon one, brightening his surroundings with stale white light.
The kitchen was just as he left it. No hyper Italian was making pasta, to Germany's disappointment. Alas... he'd known Italy would have to return home at some point.
Shuffling blearily back towards his room- why had he woken up so early, anyways?- Germany chided himself for allowing his emotions to get the best of him.
As he passed the countertop, there was a loud, startling ding.
Germany squeaked and jumped, grabbing the pistol concealed within his pajama pocket and aiming it at the source of the sound. What on earth could it be? The enemy? A threat? Italy?
.... It was the fucking toaster.
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Hetalia Feels
Fiksi PenggemarEverything Hetalia Feels, ranging from war memories to suicide notes. REQUESTS CLOSED Warning: triggers, self harm, suicide, death, etc. I do not own Hetalia. Cover by @-mxple-
