Not a Tomato Fairy (2PGerita)

Not a Tomato Fairy

Battered boots crunched dried leaves and fallen twigs as a lone soldier treaded the vast forest. He carried nothing but a gun and his own clothes: A cap on his head and his uniform coat draped on his shoulders. He walked steadily and alert, looking for any signs of his enemy. He is near the enemy's capital, Venice, and it would be to his advantage if he stayed on his toes.

Walking a little more, the soldier found himself near a clearing. He slung his trusty gun to his back, preparing for a much wanted break.

"Finally, a place to take a nap." thought Siegfreid.

Siegfreid Bauman, personification of Germany, walked towards the clearing. As he approached, he spotted a large wooden box, at the center of his soon to be napping spot, and saw a tomato drawn onto one of its sides.

"A box of tomatoes?" he thought, "What's a box of tomato doing in the middle of the forest?"

He stared at the box for a few seconds before looking around. Upon seeing and sensing nothing, he placed his gun on the forest floor and approached the box.

"Who cares? I'm hungry!" he said to no one.

He rubbed his hands together then opened the box only to find it empty. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips drew down into a scowl.

"Verdamt! Why is it empty?!"

With a sigh, Siegfreid threw the box lid and was about to grab his gun when he was shoved to the ground with a force that almost knocked him unconscious.

"Scheiße!"

He struggled underneath his assailant when a hand grabbed his hair and forcefully shoved his head to the ground. Siegfreid found himself gritting his teeth in pain as sharp pebbles dug into his face. In his struggling, he got one of his arms loose but as he was about to use it to push himself up, a heavy boot landed on his hand, pressing his open palm onto the sharp stones. He grunted in pain and struggled more to get this assailant off of him but a cold, and sharp metal object was pressed onto his neck and he froze.

"Don't move." A voice ordered.

Siegfreid felt his heart race. It was racing, not because of the metal pressed to his neck but because of the voice. That velvet voice sent a shiver down his spine and his body stiffened without his notice.

"You are Germany, si?"

The voice spoke again and Siegfreid had half the mind to hold the gasp down his throat. Instead, he opt to try and turn his head to see his captor's face. The pebbles scratched his face but he managed to get a glimpse.

It was a man, or what Siegfreid deemed as a man because of the voice. Red hair framed the stranger's face as a small military cap with a purple tassel hanging on its side. But those were all forgotten when Siegfreid noticed his eyes.

Mein Gott.

They were an odd mix of brown and red falling in the category near magenta. It glowed in the dim forest and shined in the sun's brief light.

Siegfreid was drawn to those eyes. Eyes so deep it could've swallowed him whole and he found himself not caring even if they did. Siegfreid found himself not caring at all.

The man stared back at Siegfreid with his odd colored eyes before his lips slowly rose on one side, forming a smirk. Siegfreid's breath hitched at the sight of that smirk. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from this man. This stranger has captured him. Both literally and figuratively.

"Mein Gott."

He almost forgot to breathe before he felt cold metal tear at the flesh of his right cheek just below his eye. He cringed and his mind reeled back to his current situation. He was being held captive.

He struggled once more before that velvety voice froze him again.

"I said 'don't move'."

Moments later, the man slowly released Siegfreid's hair and allowed him to slightly lift his head off of the forest floor. Siegfreid released a breath of relief until he felt fingers combing through his hair. Slowly. Very slowly. Almost sensual to him. Siegfreid took a deep breath.

The man hummed and his voice was laced with amusement. Siegfreid could hear it clearly.

"You like that, don't you?" the man asked.

Siegfreid had to bit his lip to keep a moan down as he captor tugged on his hair. Softly but hard enough to bring his head off the ground. Then he felt warm wispy breath near his neck. His lip now bled under his teeth.

"I think we'll get along, mio dolce."

The man chuckled and Siegfreid could not suppress the sound that came out from his mouth. This man's strength that was enough to bring him, the personification of Germany, down on the forest floor, coupled by that velvet voice and those hypnotizing odd colored eyes. Siegfreid felt a warm sensation flow from his chest to his face and towards another part of his body. The lower part of his body.

He felt the weight on his back disappear along with the fingers grasping his hair. He whined. Siegfreid Bauman, personification of Germany, whined at the loss of the stranger's touch from his body.

He was flipped onto his back with a kick to his side and his eyes locked onto the figure standing above him. His eyes widened and his jaw slacked open.

Right before him was a man of unfathomable beauty. He was small with a lithe body covered by an Italian light infantry uniform, gloved hands hiding the fingers that caressed his locks, and delicious olive skin. His odd eyes were trained at Siegfreid's own purple orbs as a smirk decorated thin tempting lips.

"My name is Luciano Vargas," the man said as he raised something over his head, "The personification of Italy."

A brief memory of his mission passed through Siegfreid's mind before his vision turned black. He was supposed to capture the personification of Italy but Italy captured him instead. In more ways than one.