Hetalia One Shots

Ich Liebe Dich - Gerita

The sun was slowly rising, but the lingering cold of the night remained. The past few days had been strangely, uneventful. Usually on these days Germany would try to catch up on some sleep, fatigue can be as deadly as a weapon after all.

He would be asleep, if it wasn't for the phone ringing. Germany slid out of bed and answered the phone, surely it would be important if he was being called this early.

"GERMANY!! GERMANY!! I NEED HELP!!" Came the high-pitched voice of an Italian man. Germany put a hand over his face and sighed. "Vat iss zee problem, Italy?" Germany asked.

"I HAD A NIGHTMARE!! PLEASE COME COMFORT ME!!" Italy cried. Germany, having no other friends or social life, hung up the phone and went to check on Italy.

Germany knocked on the door, and was greeted by Italy. Italy immediately hugged him. "I WAS SO SCARED GERMANY! I HAD A NIGHTMARE WHERE YOU HATED ME AND YOU LEFT ME AND I NEVER GOT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!" Italy started to cry loudly. Germany gently patted his friend's back. "I vouldn't leave you Italy" Italy looked up at Germany, he was still crying a bit. "Thank you, Germany!"

Italy had convinced Germany to stay at his place for a while, even with Germany reminding him that he was busy and had work to do. Who would have thought offering pasta would encourage people to stay for a while? But, little did Germany know, pasta was not the true reason Italy wanted his friend to stay for a while.

Germany had noticed that something about Italy was particularly odd, but of course, Italy was always odd. But something was off, perhaps it was the way he carried himself or how his voice had a different quality. Whatever it was, something was definitely bothering the young man. "Italy, vould you like to go outside for a bit?" Germany asked, hoping some fresh air would help bring Italy back to his usual self. "Ok Germany!" Italy smiled. Italy grabbed onto the tall blonde male's arm and walked outside with him...

Italy stared up into Germany's intense, blue eyes. A bright smile formed on the young man's face. "We're best friends, right Germany? I like to think we are" Italy said. Germany was now the one feeling awkward. Did Italy really see him as just a friend? Germany felt his heart ache slightly at the thought of it. Sure, a strong friendship was key to being successful. Usually, Germany listened to his head but his heart was craving something different.

"Italy... I have something to tell you." Germany said, his voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

"Ich liebe dich..."

"What does that mean Germany? You know I don't understand German!"

"It means.. I love you."