Those whom aren't Impatient aren't in love. (Gerita)

How I met you~

A/N;; ELLO, I SHOULD PROBABLY MENTION THIS IS AN EDITED VERSION OF THE ANIME, AND ISN'T ENTIRLY ORIGINAL. I REPEAT: THIS IS A FICTIONAL TAKE ON HOW THE TWO MET. ENJOY FAM.

Italy's POV;;

My heart thundered, vigorously accelerating with each upcoming moment.

Everything seemed to take place rather quickly, but the last thing I could clearly recall was reaching for my phone.

I remember the horror in Romano's once comforting voice when he told me Germany had pentrated Italy's borders with ease, and was now closing in on me. How he practically screamed at the phone, begging me to evacuate, to hide, to run. -and... for once in a very long time... I made myself open my eyes.

The alluring sight of a beautiful forest had taken my breath away with one greedy snatch.

Oh, I've never heard him talk like that. He was supposed to be the outgoing twin. The strong, yet intoxicatingly bold representation of our, and only our country. He'd be the one that wasn't afraid to to express his opinion regardless of the situation, and put anyone who criticizes him for it in their place.

But their was nowhere worth fleeing to. Trying to hide in the bushes Furthermore, hiding in the bushes would be pointless, not to mention uncomfortable. Besides, it would only make my appearance more than obvious.

The tree trunk's from those tall plants enveloping my very being were unnaturally thin, so I ultimately fail to see how they'd contribute to my escape. Their's no way I have the capacity to climb one.

I sat down with my head tucked between my knees, begging myself not to cry. Pleading for emotional mercy. I attempted thinking about a nice big bowl of lukewarm pasta, a delicacy to behold. Usually that, of all things, would cheer me up.

That didn't stop the warm tears from breaking free from their cells, and soon it progressively grew harder to breath through my nose, causing me to sniffle.

That's when I heard a light scoff. The terrifying thing was that I knew it wasn't me. My hands felt cold and my instincts immediately kicked in.

I began to run even before I was consciously aware I'd been running. My mind went as blank as the papers I've yet to scribble upon.

It felt like hours since I've been running, but maybe that's because my concept of time has been tampered with. I mean; I'm not sure if I'm capable of running so far.

Now I'm shaking violently though, experiencing what nobody ever should.

I'm cramped inside a small wooden crate, and every breath I take blasts back at towards me. I know that it's reflecting off the splintered wood that happens to be inches from my tear- stained face.

My legs are at strange angles, and somewhere along the way of forcing myself inside this small box, I gained a small gash on my thigh. The sensation of crimson liquid slowly extracting itself from my side makes me want to cringe.

I felt vile slowly creep it's way up my somehow sore throat, and I almost gave away to a sick mess. Luckily I could keep it down, but nothing's ever felt worse.

Not even the dread that washed over my body as I heard dead grass crunch and crack, being trampled near me, by what I could only hope wasn't dangerous.

As any logic suggested, it was. In fact, it was the worst thing that could've happened.

Germany had decided on opening it, and in desperate attempt to make him stop, I practically pleaded for my life. I even said something about being the tomato fairy.

He mentioned my beloved Grandfathers name, and I told him how wonderful Granpa really is. Although I did insist i wasnt Italy... I suppose I accidentally gave my true identity away, but I'm not exactly sure he ever believed my lies. The last audiable sound was: "I have relatives in Brooklyn!" But that was before he knocked me out with the back of his rifle.