Your Colors

Yellow.

Italy replayed every phase of Hungary's plan in his head, hoping he did not leave out anything, even the tiniest detail. He had an entire day before Hungary's part of the plan went into motion. But first, he needed to buy some supplies in order to make preparations. He decided to head into town that morning to gather everything.

The sun, just now rising above the mountains, washed the waking world a brilliant yellow. Italy ran his hand along the yellow-beige walls of each passing building, taking in the morning scenery. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The air smelled sweet with the scent of jasmine and geranium.

Italy took his time walking along the cobblestone road to the market. It was rare for him to start his day early, so he figured he may as well enjoy himself, even if he was on a mission.

Soon enough the smell of fresh bread and coffee filled the air and Italy could hear the soft chatter of people socializing in the marketplace. He had arrived.

Italy had always enjoyed visiting the local market. There was so much to see, so much delicious food to try, each time he went there was always something new and exciting. This time, some artisans representing crafts from all over the country had tables set up to sell their works. There was handmade jewelry from silver and gold, leatherwork, woodwork, and even pieces made out of cork.

Then Italy saw the glasswork stand and found the perfect gift for Germany. He bought the glass figure without hesitation, then continued on to gather his ingredients from the fruit and vegetable stands.

Italy found the remaining supplies rather quickly. Managing to open his front door with two full hands, he set his bags down on the kitchen counter and put away everything he bought as best as he could.

He went upstairs and opened the door to one of his storage closets that hadn't been cleaned out in far too long. The dust made him sneeze. Italy kneeled down to rummage through one of the many large boxes lying on the ground. Miraculously through watering eyes, Italy found what he was looking for. He pulled out a smaller box, an old brown and yellow hatbox.

Italy closed the closet door as fast as he could so he would not have to come in contact with any more dust. He crumpled up some papers and set them in the box. He then found some unused bubblewrap and carefully wrapped it around Germany's gift before placing it inside and closing the lid.

Italy's heart began to pound faster.

Tomorrow, he realized, tomorrow he would finally face him.