Pasta~, Romano, and Pooky

132 3 0
                                    

"Oh schieße..." Germany cursed as he recognized the voice. "Stay hidden. Don't let him see you." He tried to flatten his body even closer to the ground than before when he was stalking the bird, and yet he mentally thanked that voice for bringing him to his senses before he ate a raw bird. Shuddering at the thought, Germany didn't realize the person who spoke before had reached down and picked him up. Legs flailing this way and that, Germany screeched, "Verdammt, put me down!"

"Such a cute kitty! I'm gonna take you home with me and...hmmm...I think I'll call you Pooky! No wait, I already have a kitty named Pooky. Ooh! How about Romi? Oh si, I like that very much!"

Germany stopped wriggling and stared at Italy in contempt. It sounds like he's naming me after his capital city. Can he really not think of anything original? "Nein! Put me down this instant!" Italy walked up to Germany's house and burst in through the door.

"Geeeermaaanyyyy!" Italy called out in his perky, high-pitched voice. "Buongiorno! Wake up! It's so pretty outside so we should go play football! Germany?" Italy looked up and down the halls for the person who was indignantly underneath his arm at the present moment.

"Ow! Shit! Damn bloody-, Italy? What are you doing here?" Britain was rubbing a towel between his hands and nursing a newly formed bruise. His gaze came to rest on Germany, who was tucked underneath Italy's arm. Germany's gaze was quite clear...If you say one word, I will kill you.

"I'm looking for Germany. Have you seen him?" Italy looked around nervously. It was apparent that he did not want to be alone with the Brit.

"Uh, nope. Haven't seen him! I'm, um, just doing a bit of housework for the chap while he's off on a...trip." Britain avoided Germany's gaze the whole time he spoke. Das dummkopf...he's going to give me away, I can just tell. Germany squirmed and tried to get out of Italy's grasp, but the Italian had a much tighter grip than Germany anticipated. It appeared that Italy didn't want to let Germany go...ever. At least that's what it felt like as Germany felt his sides being squished uncomfortably. Ugh...Italy...maybe loosen up on your grip a bit?

"He left to go somewhere? Oh...oki-dokie! When you see him, let me know! Arrivederci, Britain!" Italy waved and made to leave the house.

"Hey Italy?" Italy turned around and faced Britain, who was eyeing Germany with both amusement and worry. "Perhaps you should stop strangling your cat. I think it would probably much rather be alive."

"Eh?" Italy glanced down at Germany curiously and poked his nose. "I think the kitty's okay! Yay!" And with that, Italy sped out of the house leaving a trail of dust in his wake. "Come on, Romi! I'm gonna bring you to my house and you'll have so much pasta that-" Germany had learned years ago to tune out Italy after he started chatting on and on about the seven wonders of Pasta. All he could do now was relax and go along for the free ride. Plus...well...the food Italy made was lecker[1], very lecker. Maybe he'll even put in some wurst. Germany thought hopefully as Italy started up his car and drove off at the speed of sound.

"So let's see, I have penne, cavatappi, conchiglie, farfalle, fusilli...or maybe you like lasagna?" Italy listed the different types of pastas he had and Germany's head shot up at the word "lasagna". You could put basically anything in Lasagna, and Germany's wish was for the wurst. "Lasagna, eh?" Italy turned his attention on Germany and the car momentarily swerved. Germany's ears flicked back as he heard someone yelling at the Italian, and curse words were abundant. "Aren't you so cute!" Germany flinched as Italy's fingers touched the base of his ears and he tried to cringe away...but then Italy started scratching them.

Oh...oh wow...oh "Mein Gott that really feels good!" Germany couldn't help but purr at the caress and he leaned into it. "Just a little...little lower. Ja, right there. Oh gott...that's amazing! Maybe it would be worth it being a cat..." That thought certainly brought Germany back to reality and he hissed at himself for being so careless.

Cats and the Past; Germany and ItalyWhere stories live. Discover now