Your Colors

Blue.

The morning light filtered softly through the lace curtains, casting patterns on the walls. Germany opened his eyes, feeling rejuvenated. He did not remember the last time he slept that well.

He sat up and noticed a bouquet of blue flowers sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. They were cornflowers. He got out of the bed and smelled them. They had a light scent, a sweet one, that he knew was most noticeable when they were grouped together in a bouquet. 

Germany walked to the window and opened the blinds. Outside he saw a stunning view of the Mediterranean Sea in the distance below, and above, a brilliant blue sky without a single cloud.

He turned around as the scent of coffee and fresh pastries filled the air, coming from downstairs. Before heading to the kitchen to investigate, he made sure to make the bed.

Downstairs, Italy set pastries and two cups of cappuccino, both of which he made. It was the first time in many, many years since he woke up before Germany. He was too excited thinking about what they would be doing during the day to sleep in. He had everything perfectly planned out in his head.

Germany finally came downstairs, and they ate in a comfortable silence. 

“So, what is the plan for today?” Germany asked, breaking the silence.

“I know a special place, but it's a surprise,” Italy beamed with his cheeks stuffed with bombolone. 

.

Italy brought Germany to an old part of the town where all the buildings date back to the period of the Renaissance. The buildings and the roads were still well maintained. Italy loved coming here often for the beautiful architecture that always brought him good memories, but more importantly, this was where his favorite gelato shop was. 

The inside smelled like lemons and raspberries, and it was crowded, which was normal as the shop was popular with both the tourists and the locals . Though there was a big crowd, the atmosphere still felt inviting and friendly with strangers happily socializing over delicious gelato.

Looking at the different flavors, Italy realized there were so many, almost TOO many. He looked over at Germany, wondering what flavor he was going to choose. Their turn to order was coming up. Germany could not choose, so he told Italy to surprise him.

Germany and Italy walked out of the gelateria with a cup of hazelnut and pistachio. They walked through the narrow cobblestone streets, visiting different stores and pointing out weirdly-shaped clouds, all while enjoying their gelato.

.

The time to eat had arrived and Italy led Germany to a cute little restaurant out of the way of the tourist-filled areas. The place was family owned, popular with the local residents for serving authentic Italian food, where the grandmother herself was the head chef. They sat at a table near the corner, where a young waitress promptly took their orders.

Waiting for their food, Italy decided now was the best time to give Germany his gift. He placed the brown and yellow hatbot on the table and motioned for Germany to open it.

“What is this?” Germany asked curiously.

“Exactly what it looks like! It’s a gift for you. I found it the other day at the market and I thought it was perfect.”

Germany opened the box and unwrapped the mass of bubble wrap surrounding the figure. He held up a dog with drooping ears, a Cocker Spaniel no doubt, made of Venetian glass. The ears, paws, and tail were colored indigo, and the rest of it was colored in thousands of colorful vibrant dots that both perfectly blended together and stood out on their own. It was one of the most beautiful things Germany had ever seen.

“This is very nice, Italy,” Germany said, trying to sound as grateful as possible, but with some difficulty expressing it, “Thank you.”

Happy that he chose a good gift, Italy’s face lit up. He could not contain his smile. It was the most beautiful thing Germany had ever seen.

Their food order finally arrived, and the two enjoyed their ravioli and pescatore. After finishing up and paying, Italy led Germany down the sloping road that guided the way to the beach and the Meditteranean Sea underneath a blanket of fluffy clouds. 

The two nations took off their shoes and waded into the water. They sank their feet in the pebble sand and felt the waves as they pushed and pulled past them.

“Hey Germany,” said Italy, getting his attention, “I bet you can’t beat me in a race to those rocks!” He pointed to some boulders about halfway down the beach. Before Germany could process anything, he sprinted.

Italy was proud of himself. He made it first to the rockpile by the power of thinking about pasta. Technically he had a head start, but that didn’t count. Italy turned around to see Germany with his clothes all wet and gritty.

“Germany, are you okay?”

 “You only won because I fell.”

As Italy was going to reply, thunder roared. The sky, once clear and blue, was now a dark grey. The rain started off light, but almost no time passed before it poured.