Intractable Emotion. (A GerIta fanfic)

Chapter XXIII. WHAT CAN A GAY WEDDING NOT FIX? (NOTHING, THAT'S THE ANSWER).

~Chapter XXIII.~

WHAT CAN A GAY WEDDING NOT FIX? (NOTHING, THAT'S THE ANSWER).

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＊Germany's P.O.V.＊

"What color should the balloons be? I'm thinking red, white, and green!" Italy said enthusiastically. The wedding was two weeks away, and both of us could not be more insane about having it ready. America and France came over to help early in the morning. Romano and Spain had come too, but they were more interested in each other than the wedding.

"No dude! To have a real blast, everything has got to be red and blue with white stars everywhere! Patriotic is kick ass!" America butted in, pulling out some American balloons he already had prepared somehow. France, being the only one completely serious, sighed and took out his planning chart.

"We have a color scheme for everything you imbécile. We're using all the colors from both Germany's and Italy's flags, y'know bringing them together. It's all very romantique! The colors are red, green, yellow, black, and white; the balloons will have to match."

"Do we already have the napkins and table covers that match the color scheme?" I asked France once he finished explaining.

"Well of course! I have mostly everything covered, the minor details are what we're here for today. The table seating, the music, and little decorations like balloons" France said, his confidence in his planning skills showing through his voice.

"Is everyone we invited coming?" Italy asked with curiosity, and that's when France lost his confidence.

"Well, mostly everyone..." France answered quietly.

"Who isn't?" I questioned.

"Everyone said they'd come, except for England, but I think that's more my fault than anything" France sighed, looking down at his sheet.

"Well, what happened between you two?"

"Uh, well I'm not sure if I should say..."

"Come on man! We gotta solve this, Italy already looks like he's gonna cry if England doesn't come" America exclaimed. He was right, Feliciano looked as if he was fighting back tears.

"Don't fret, Italy! Your special day will still go off without a hitch. I'll sort things out with Britain!" France said, but his nervousness still showed through, which made me a bit curious.

"But what happened with you tw-" I started to ask, but before I could finish, France stood up.

"Well, I better go pick up the wines for the big day! Can't be late on getting them! Bye, mes amis!" Francis quickly announced, grabbing his things and running out of the door of mine and Italy's home.

"What was the weirdness about?" America asked, confused. Neither Italy nor I could answer, for we were both just as confused.

"I heard France was drunk at England's a few nights ago" Spain butted in from his and Romano's area on the couch.

"Do you think they got into a fist fight again?" Italy questioned, still looking as if he wanted to cry. I went over and kissed his forehead as a way to say "it'll be okay".

"Those perdentes have no common sense when they fight. France must have ripped one of Britain's spell books or some crap, they'll forget about it in a week" Romano added, looking unconcerned.

"Well we must solve this stupid thing! Everyone to the Americopter!" America yelled.

I rubbed my temples, looking at America. "Alfred, you took a bus here".