A girl and her frying pan

Chapter 3

After Germany had left again for some unknown reason which he suspected was related to a pasta-loving fool, Prussia decided now was the best time to snoop around. He was bored and it was too cold outside to do anything today.

He rummaged through the kitchen, opening all the drawers and cupboards but finding only beer and essential foodstuffs. The living room didn't have anything intresting either. Nor the bathroom which he would have expected at least to find some lube or condoms of such. It wasn't until he slipped and fell on the bedroom floor did something catch his eye.

A small silver box, secured tight with thick chains and a padlock underneath the bed. He pulled it out, shaking it gently to hear objects rattling around it inside. Where could that damned key be? He searched the enitre room, dumping out contents from the drawers and ripping off duvet covers. By the time he had finished, the room looked as though it had been hit by a whirlwind and he still found no indications of a key. With an fustrated snort he thrust his hand under the pillow and was surprised to find something. It was a book, and with a malicious grin he opened it up, realising it was Germany's diary. He flipped to the middle, where he found the key tucked neatly in between the pages. He was about to shut the book when a line caught his eye. It read,

"Dear Diary. Today I decided to visit France for advice about Italy. Frankly, our sexual relationship is going a bit stale. Italy has grown tired of the usual routines and refuses to have sex with me unless I make it a bit more 'fun'. I am growing impatient. 

I couldn't find France. Just as I was about to give up and go home, I stumbled across America. He was looking particularly chubby today as he greeted me, a hamburger in hand. It seems England has been babying him again. Honestly, if it were up to me, I would have whipped him into shape! Suddenly England came running up and had to stop, completely out of breath. He was just as bad as America in physical health. I suddenly remembered the rumors I had heard about him and how he was known as the 'Perverted Ambassador'. So I decided to ask him about keeping sex an enjoyable event. I noticed America catching England's eye and giving him a small smirk, which made England go bright red. America replied explaining how he kept his sex 'fresh'. He started off with " Well for one, roleplay seems to usually do the trick. Especially the naughty policeman and the wrongly accused hero." He gave England a wink, which I should assume that England also has some knowledge about it. Suddenly England was the one smirking as he stated that one only enjoyed sex when their partner was 'fit' and didn't cry at horror movies and have to sleep with their partner. They should also be at least a little decent in kissing and didn't have to make their partner pretend to enjoy their attempts at blowjobs.

England grinned spitefully at America and I waited for America to retort but we were both surprised to see his chin wobbling and his eyes welling with tears. Concerned, England tried to to reach out to America, but he ducked away, crying out that if England hated sex with him so much, maybe he should go back to screwing with France. With that he burst out wailing, running away in the opposite direction of us. England called out to America already giving chase, leaving me without a proper answer.

In the end they were no help.

Wait, I see France.

So took France's advice and it seems that Italy really seems to enjoy S&M. I never realised he was so kinky. Now that I have found this out I'll be quite 'busy' with Italy for a few days. I just hope Brother doesn't find out..."

Prussia could barely supress his laughter, tears forming on the corner of his eyes with the effort. He knew that West and Italy had a thing going but not to this extent. He flipped through the book but found nothing more of intrest. He put it away and proceeded to unlock the box. It opened with a click and satisfied, he tossed away the key. Inside were a few old photos and letters yellowing with age. He picked up one of the photos and and exclaimed in shock. In the photo was none other than Prussia when he was still just a small country. Was really surprised him though was the face that he was looking up eagerly at someone off screen. Someone's arm was sticking in, handing him a single sunflower. He knew that familiar grey-sleeved with black gloves uniform anywhere. 

It was Russia's.