Could This be Love? - A GerAme Fanfic [REPOST] [PLEASE READ THE DESCRIPTION]

-5-

Gott in Himmel, what's wrong with me?! I'm getting all worked up over a loud mouth, gluttonous male! He picks himself and walks down the hall and all the way down those pesky stairs. A male who also has beautiful hair that shines like the sun and eyes that twinkle like the stars in the night sky. Germany makes it down to the lobby, waves goodbye to the receptionists, and walks into the parking lot. But does the fact that he's male change anything for me? I mean, he's still beautiful regardless of his gender, I guess. But that would make me a-

He almost trips on a small rock while walking to his car, interrupting his thoughts. Germany glares at it, picks up the little stone and launches it across the lot, hitting some poor girl in the head and knocking her out cold. He sees this and immediately runs to the car door, fumbles with his keys, and tries to get inside his car as fast as he can.

He unlocks the door, starts the car, and drives down the road. Normally, he's hyper aware of all of his surroundings on the road, but every now and then he catches himself drifting too far left or right in his lane. This made multiple drivers around him very pissed.

But he can't help it! He can't get that stupid American with his stupid words out of his head! " 'Stop blaming yourself' he said. I not supposed to blame myself?! It was my boss who started that mess! Sure, I might not have wanted to start a war, but that doesn't change the fact that I still fought in it!" Germany yelled at himself, soon adding with little to no choice and against my will in his head.

He almost drives straight into the railing alongside the roadroad, but quickly turns the vehicle back in the right direction. this causes numerous cars to honk behind him.

Germany growls in frustration. "Damn that American for making me feel this way! Why is he constantly in my mind nowadays?!" he shouts, slamming his hand on the steering wheel.

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Finally, after what seemed like an hour of aggressive self talks and semi reckless driving, Germany makes it back home in one piece. Physically, anyway. He steps out of his car and locks it, double locking it to make sure it's secure. Germany walks up to his front porch.

His house wasn't that big, nor was it as decent-looking as it was before the war (granted, all of these houses looked better before the war). There were bullet holes littered all across the white painted wood and cracked windows that still need fixed. The front door didn't look too bad, minus a bullet hole, chipped paint, crappy hinges that locked up somedays, and a loose, janky door knob.

Germany walks onto the porch and opens the squeaky door. This causes the door knob to fall off and roll off the porch and into the flower bed. "Damn," he irritatingly says, and enters the living room. Blackie, Berlitz, and Aster, his dogs, greet him with wagging tails and jump all over him. He laughs as they give him slobbery kisses and he gives them all belly rubs.

Much like the man himself, his house wasn't very decorated. It only had the essentials: furniture, a radio, a fireplace, bookshelves stocked to the brim with different novels from around the world, anything dog related, plates, utensils, a microwave, a refrigerator, shelves, a bed, plumbing, and lighting. The few decorative that are in his house are either pictures and a dusty globe that sat on a nearby dusty desk. Due to stress from the recent war, he hadn't bothered to dust as frequently as he used to.

The bleach blond sighs and closes the door behind him. He walks over to his couch and slumps face first into the cushions, dust flying into the air. Aster nudges Germany's hand with his snout and licks it. He yips with joy when the German pats him on the head. If only getting up was as easy as this, the nation thinks. He rolls over and stares at his popcorn ceiling, trying to think of what to say for the meeting tomorrow. Should I go with the same points and ideas or should I add something new? The protocols for the meeting hadn't changed: What's Europe's future going to look like? Some may say it looks disastrous, but, as Germany's boss said, "When everybody else thinks it's the end, we have to begin." Germany grabs one of his folders and begins to re-read his notes. Suddenly, he turns his head to look at a photo on the coffee table and picks it up.

It was a picture of him and his brother, Prussia. They're standing outside their favorite bar, raising their glasses for Schleicher's victory in office.

Germany smiles sorrowfully and places the picture back on the coffee table. These types of things aren't the same without you around. Soon, he hears his stomach growl with hunger. Reluctantly, he gets up and walks into the kitchen to heat up some leftovers for dinner. The dogs follow in suit.

He opens up his frige and takes out the ham and potato slices from yesterday. Germany puts them on a plate and then into the microwave (or radarange, as it was first called back in 1946). As the food is heating up in the microwave, Germany recites his speech in his head over and over again while leaning on the counter. Just to make sure he didn't miss anything, the bleach blond speed walks over to his folders once more and re-reads his speech, in his head and aloud to his canine audience. He even goes as far as to say it backwards!

DING!

The German lifts his head from the scrap of paper and shuffles back to the kitchen. He pulls the plate out with a towel wrapped around his hand.

Blackie and Aster jump up to try and eat what's on the plate while Germany says, "No, get down!" and lifts the plate high above their reach. Berlitz knew better than to beg like that, so he layed down near hid food bowl for some dog food and hopefully some scraps.

Germany rolls his eyes, places the food on a high shelf and walks over to the dog bowls. He picks up the bag of Gaines Meals and pours a cup full into each bowl. He smiles as his dogs gobble it down like it a homestyle cooked meal. "Enjoy," the German says to all three of them and returns to the kitchen to fetch his own dinner. Germamy grabs a fork and knife from the drawer and takes the plate from on top of the shelf and brings it back to the table. He says a prayer of thanks and eats. It didn't take him long to finish the ham and potatoes. He looks over and sees that his dogs finished their meals as well. Germany places his plate, fork, and knife in the sink and walks down the hallway to his bedroom. Taking off his tie and clothes, keeping his boxers on, he places them in the hamper and walks into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He looked in the mirror and stared at his own reflection. There's more to you than your past, his brother said to him before he left, don't let them put you down. You're awesome, bruder, and never forget that! He smiles at that memory. He's been getting harder and harder to remember his "awesomeness" over the years, no thanks to the other nations. Germany crawls into bed with his fur babies all curled up at the end of the bed and falls asleep. He dreams of laying down in a honey wheat field under an ocean blue sky decorated with small, white clouds.