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hetalia2010-08-31 03:04 pm
joatamon.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2010-08-31 03:04 pm
(fanfic) Chamber Music
My first foray into Nyotalia! Surprisingly enough, it's not total crack. That is...not TOTAL crack.
Title: Chamber Music
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
joatamon
Character(s) or Pairing(s): HungaryxAustria, HRExItaly, implied Hungaryx...?
Rating: T for suggestive themes and crude humor, which any Hetalia fan has to be desensitized to by now
Warnings: This is a NYOTALIA story, so everyone is genderswitched!
Summary: Three little slices of life and love in the Holy Roman Empire household, each from a different perspective. Sweetness, silliness, and tsundere abound!
Austria was many things, but alert was not one of them. So when one of her servants slowly crept up behind her, she was not aware of this, his footprints drowned out as they were by the complex melodies conjured by her fingertips. She poured every ounce of her attention into telling a story, one she alone understood, and being as she was less inclined towards words and body language than most, the piano was the only true means of release she knew.
So when his arms wrapped around her, she did her best to rectify the flat note she'd inadvertently played as a natural, maintaining the slow rhythm of her breath through sheer force of will even as her heart's metronome was kicked into overdrive.
"May I ask what you're bothering me for, Hungary?"
Hungary didn't budge, quite comfortable with his arms about her shoulders, peering down at the mesmerizing movements of her arms and fingers. The tune had taken on a staccato edge ever since they'd made contact, much like the way she'd always close up in the presence of company. When they were alone, however, she was just that little bit less guarded, and when he did find her alone she was almost inevitably playing piano. He was well accustomed to having this sort of third wheel around; after all, music was how Austria expressed herself, and witnessing the dance of her fingers across the keys gave rise to more than one fantasy in which those musical fingers wound up digging into his back.
"Hungary?"
"It's been a while since I've heard you improvise, Miss Austria."
"Is that so?" Her left hand chased her right up to the high notes, reiterating a tinkling motif she'd just discovered, movement slightly encumbered by Hungary's embrace. "There's no real reason for it, though. None of my usual repertoire felt right for today is all."
"If I may, the sound seems a little more intense than your usual style."
"You say that as if it's a bad thing, Hungary." She sighed, not entirely comfortable with his closeness. "Is there something wrong with my performance?"
"No, Miss Austria, not at all. It sounds wonderful. Rather, I'm jealous of your talent for chamber music."
"Is that so?"
Though he couldn't see her face, Austria's smile was evident in her tone of voice. Her smiles were slow and infrequent, saved only for truly special moments. It was Hungary who now found himself counting each breath, not wanting to break the spell of having inadvertently found himself on her good side.
"Pull up a chair and listen a little before dinner, then. I wasn't expecting an audience, but you'll do."
You'll do.
The words were just a little too simple for the feeling they stirred up in Hungary's chest.
"Of course...Miss Austria."
He straightened up slowly, hesitating a moment before withdrawing altogether and retreating to fetch a seat for himself. He left Austria feeling a little less warm, and even more uneasy than before. Hungary seemed like such a well-adjusted nation for one that'd lived a migratory life for so long before coming under her dominion. However, then he'd go and hug her while she was trying to play the piano...? He had a hell of a nerve, pulling something like that. At least she hadn't been seen putting up with that kind of gesture...hopefully.
Her wrists twinged, not quite obeying her command. In the far corner of her eye, Hungary was seating himself, as quiet as he could be. A little part of Austria's mind wondered how she would've occupied herself had he come across her without the piano to focus on. It wasn't easy to remain guarded when faced with the honest look in those green eyes, and she knew that was the exact same thing he was thinking, watching her like that.
It wasn't, though. Hungary was a little too distracted by the way Austria's girlish pout was emphasized by the little dark mole at the corner of her mouth. It was altogether too easy, at least to him, to lose focus for wondering how he could make her smile again.
-----
"I could never do that, Holy Rome. Don't you think it'd be a waste?"
Hungary's voice from the open door of a nearby room snapped Austria out of her idle daydream. It was getting a bit late, and she'd been doing little more than wandering about the house, humming to herself and taking stock of her surroundings. What in the world were Hungary and Holy Roman Empire up to, and why did Hungary sound so concerned? Having been snuck up on earlier that day, Austria concluded that she was perfectly entitled to do a little snooping of her own, so outside the door and out of sight she remained, curious as to what was taking place within.
"But Hungary, you have to!"
"Now, now. What is it you don't like about your hair, Holy Rome?"
"I told you, Hungary; it's just too long."
Come to think of it, Austria realized, Holy Rome never went anywhere without her hat on. A few golden tendrils came loose from time to time, but truly, there was likely no one in Holy Rome's house who had laid eyes on their young mistress with her hair down.
"But what's wrong with long hair on a young lady? Austria grew hers long, and she keeps it pulled back out of the way. Italy keeps hers in a tidy ponytail, and I keep mine--oh dear, I said something wrong, didn't I?"
"N-no, it's all right." Austria, while not the best at reading people, could very well tell from her perch outside the door that it was not all right. "I just don't like it this way, you know? I'm going to rebuild the Roman Empire someday, and I...I...."
Austria leaned closer to the doorway, unable to discern the little realm's speech as it dropped to a mutter. Fortunately, Hungary's response was enough to fill her in.
"You want to look like a boy? For Heaven's sake, why?"
"B-because! Boys are strong, and I want to be a strong empire! I want to be able to protect you, and Miss Austria, and my big sister, and, and...and you know! The world's not like it was when Rome was around. As much as I try...I won't ever be quite like her. I can't let myself fall like she did. I have too much to lose."
For a moment, the two were silent. Austria could barely absorb what she'd just heard. Holy Rome had never been terribly ladylike, but she rarely came across as humble. No one in their little "family" was without their demons, it seemed.
After a stretch of time which was surely not as long as it felt, Hungary changed the subject.
"Listen, Holy Rome. Does Italy know you're a girl?"
"Wha--!" There, that was more like it. "W-why would...Of course she knows!"
"Does she really think you're a boy?" Hungary chuckled a little, sounding pleased to have momentarily distracted Holy Rome. "Honestly, it's because you're always wearing boys' clothes! Though really, Italy treats everyone around her the same, so I could see--"
"She doesn't think I'm a boy! Honest! I...It never came up, is all."
"I'll make a deal with you, Holy Rome. You can admit to me you want your hair cut because of Italy, and I'll trim it exactly how you want. Or..." A loud clicking of scissors was overheard from outside. "...You can insist it has nothing to do with her, and I'll cut it however I please."
An ultimatum? Austria wished that sort of thing still came as a surprise, but as sedate as Hungary made himself seem most of the time, he was really a strange man.
"What?! Don't do things like that! This is my head we're talking about!" Holy Rome's voice was getting shrill. "And anyway, what would short hair have to do with Italy? Nothing has to do with her! Nothing!"
"You're so easy to read, Miss Holy Rome." A flurry of snips. "You decided it, so..."
"Hungary, what are you doing?! That's my hair! You're cutting it short, right?!"
"Please hold still, Miss Holy Rome. You don't want your head all heavy on one side, do you?"
"Hungaryyy, please!"
"You're not being very ladylike, you know. Careful, I'm making a part."
"But, but my hair...."
This continued on for a while before Holy Rome's protests died down, along with the sound of the scissors. Austria could only imagine what had transpired vis-à-vis Holy Rome's hairstyle. She'd had Hungary trim her own hair before, and it had come out just fine. But Holy Rome didn't sound too happy....
"Don't you have anything to say? You don't hate it, do you?"
Holy Rome grunted, which sounded oddly adorable coming from such a little girl.
"It's...okay, I guess. I don't see why you made it like this."
"You don't? Why don't you come in and see Holy Rome's new look, Miss Austria?"
How on Earth did Hungary know she was out there?! She'd been perfectly silent, and hadn't moved an inch the whole time. Not wanting to make an issue of it, Austria stepped into the doorframe, a little sheepish as she did so.
Holy Rome was staring sternly down at the stray blond cuttings on the floor beneath her chair, face a little red. Hungary was holding a heavy ornate mirror taken from the wall behind him and beamed up at Austria as she approached, proud of his handiwork.
Two golden plaits now hung down Holy Rome's shoulders, tied with matching black ribbons that left a long tail beneath. Her fringe must have been growing out all this time, as it parted in the middle to hang long on either side, softly framing her tiny face and bright blue eyes. After all that fuss, Hungary had barely cut it at all; rather, he'd just given her a trim and style.
As loath as she would be to admit it herself, Holy Rome looked quite lovely.
"Hungary..." Austria gave a heavy sigh. "When you're done admiring your creation, please don't forget to sweep the floor, and remember that mirror you're holding is an antique." She glanced back down at Holy Rome, who was looking terribly self-conscious. "You look very nice, Holy Rome, but it's getting late. You should think of turning in."
The girl nodded shyly. "Uh...thanks, Miss Austria. I guess I'll go to bed now." Carefully, carefully, Holy Rome slipped down from her seat and carefully picked up a tiny lit candle from the sideboard.
Before the she left, Austria spoke up.
"Holy Rome. Were you going to say anything to Hungary?"
"O-oh." The chibi turned around and gave Hungary a shy smile. "Um, thank you for doing my hair. I guess I'll...get used to it."
"It's my pleasure, Miss Holy Rome." Hungary nodded, smiling pleasantly as he carefully replaced the mirror on its hook. "You get some rest, now."
"Mm!" With a nod in return, Holy Rome exited the room, hat clutched in one hand and candle held high in the other, and continued down the hall.
Hungary gazed after her for a moment before scratching his head and turning back to Austria.
"Ah! There's nothing quite like the pure love between two young girls, hm?"
"That sounds a bit wrong, Hungary." Austria's eye twitched, unable to fully believe he'd just said that. "You still think her feelings for Italy are...like that?"
"Beyond a doubt. It's for her that Holy Rome wishes to be like Italy's grandmother Rome...so that little one doesn't have to feel alone anymore." Snapping out of his reverie, he looked back to Austria. "Maybe it's just me, though. After all, she reminds me quite a bit of my first love."
Austria blinked despite herself. What was this about a first love?!
"Again, Hungary, you're saying very strange things."
"Ehh? No, I mean it; I knew a girl once very much like Holy Rome. I guess she's not quite as rambunctious, but..."
It then dawned on Hungary that Austria had the look of one trying not to swallow something bitter.
"...Er...perhaps we should head to bed as well."
"Good idea."
-----
After seeing her reflection in the mirror in such a way, Holy Rome had no idea how she was going to get any rest. It gave her a strange feeling indeed. Even her overstuffed down pillow didn't feel right; no matter how much she fluffed it, it didn't seem quite soft enough.
It seemed oddly warm, too. Hm.
"A-ah...Holy Rome...." Italy's voice! She was in Holy Rome's room with her!
"Italy! Where are you, Italy?"
"Um...You kinda have your hand on, um...."
"Huh?" She looked around in the semi-darkness, frustrated at her inability to pick out where Italy was.
"M--M--My panties...."
It took a good long minute before Holy Rome figured out where Italy was and why, exactly, the pillow she'd been fluffing so obsessively wasn't taking the right shape.
"I--ITALY!" Holy Rome sprang up about a foot in the air, a fairly impressive feat for a chibi. "What're you doing in my bed?!"
"Waagh!" Italy cried out, sitting up and smoothing her nightgown down over her knickers. "I'm sorry, Holy Rome! I just got lonely, so I thought I'd wait here for you, but if you want, I can go...."
"N-no." Holy Rome's face had never been hotter, being as she was astonished to discover that she'd just spent the few minutes unknowingly caressing Italy's bottom, and she hung her head in shame. "I'm sorry, Italy. I thought you were a pillow."
"Oh, that's okay." Italy's tone of voice had gone from anxious to cheerful in no time. "It actually felt kinda nice!"
"It...did?"
Just when the little German girl thought she couldn't be any more embarrassed, a light tug on her left braid reminded her of the events that had led up to her going to bed.
"What's this, Holy Rome?"
"Uh. Ah."
No clever answer came to mind.
"It's my hair, Italy. Hungary braided it for me."
"Oh!" The hand tugging at her braid let it fall loose. Holy Rome felt simply awful.
"I guess you had to find out some time, Italy. I'm...really a--"
"That's so cool, Holy Rome!" Italy clapped her tiny hands.
"C-Cool? How?"
"That you got your hair in braids! You must look so pretty!"
"You think so?" Pretty. Italy just called her pretty. She had to be asleep and dreaming already.
"Mm-hm! I can't wait to wake up in the morning and see how Mr. Hungary did your hair! Do you think he would braid mine too?"
For a moment, Holy Rome imagined Italy sweeping the garden walk in the sun, with one long braid down her back ending in a green ribbon, taking small, slow steps as she sang some Italian folk song for everyone to hear.
"That would be kinda nice...I mean, yeah! I'm sure Mr. Hungary will braid your hair for you too!"
"Yayyyyy!" Without warning, Italy tackled Holy Rome around the middle, knocking her back down on the sheets. "We'll be the prettiest young ladies in all of Europe!"
"Ahhhh..." This position was pleasant, yet overwhelming for poor Holy Rome.
Austria's aggravated voice could be heard from down the hall. "Girls, bedtime is not social hour. Please calm down and get to sleep, both of you."
This was followed by a tinkle of laughter from Hungary, which was summarily muffled.
"Ah! We should get under the covers, ve?" Italy whispered. "Goodnight, Holy Rome."
"Goodnight, Italy."
Holy Roman Empire slipped under her light summer blanket, wondering to herself if what she was feeling was "happiness".
Title: Chamber Music
Author/Artist:
joatamon Character(s) or Pairing(s): HungaryxAustria, HRExItaly, implied Hungaryx...?
Rating: T for suggestive themes and crude humor, which any Hetalia fan has to be desensitized to by now
Warnings: This is a NYOTALIA story, so everyone is genderswitched!
Summary: Three little slices of life and love in the Holy Roman Empire household, each from a different perspective. Sweetness, silliness, and tsundere abound!
Austria was many things, but alert was not one of them. So when one of her servants slowly crept up behind her, she was not aware of this, his footprints drowned out as they were by the complex melodies conjured by her fingertips. She poured every ounce of her attention into telling a story, one she alone understood, and being as she was less inclined towards words and body language than most, the piano was the only true means of release she knew.
So when his arms wrapped around her, she did her best to rectify the flat note she'd inadvertently played as a natural, maintaining the slow rhythm of her breath through sheer force of will even as her heart's metronome was kicked into overdrive.
"May I ask what you're bothering me for, Hungary?"
Hungary didn't budge, quite comfortable with his arms about her shoulders, peering down at the mesmerizing movements of her arms and fingers. The tune had taken on a staccato edge ever since they'd made contact, much like the way she'd always close up in the presence of company. When they were alone, however, she was just that little bit less guarded, and when he did find her alone she was almost inevitably playing piano. He was well accustomed to having this sort of third wheel around; after all, music was how Austria expressed herself, and witnessing the dance of her fingers across the keys gave rise to more than one fantasy in which those musical fingers wound up digging into his back.
"Hungary?"
"It's been a while since I've heard you improvise, Miss Austria."
"Is that so?" Her left hand chased her right up to the high notes, reiterating a tinkling motif she'd just discovered, movement slightly encumbered by Hungary's embrace. "There's no real reason for it, though. None of my usual repertoire felt right for today is all."
"If I may, the sound seems a little more intense than your usual style."
"You say that as if it's a bad thing, Hungary." She sighed, not entirely comfortable with his closeness. "Is there something wrong with my performance?"
"No, Miss Austria, not at all. It sounds wonderful. Rather, I'm jealous of your talent for chamber music."
"Is that so?"
Though he couldn't see her face, Austria's smile was evident in her tone of voice. Her smiles were slow and infrequent, saved only for truly special moments. It was Hungary who now found himself counting each breath, not wanting to break the spell of having inadvertently found himself on her good side.
"Pull up a chair and listen a little before dinner, then. I wasn't expecting an audience, but you'll do."
You'll do.
The words were just a little too simple for the feeling they stirred up in Hungary's chest.
"Of course...Miss Austria."
He straightened up slowly, hesitating a moment before withdrawing altogether and retreating to fetch a seat for himself. He left Austria feeling a little less warm, and even more uneasy than before. Hungary seemed like such a well-adjusted nation for one that'd lived a migratory life for so long before coming under her dominion. However, then he'd go and hug her while she was trying to play the piano...? He had a hell of a nerve, pulling something like that. At least she hadn't been seen putting up with that kind of gesture...hopefully.
Her wrists twinged, not quite obeying her command. In the far corner of her eye, Hungary was seating himself, as quiet as he could be. A little part of Austria's mind wondered how she would've occupied herself had he come across her without the piano to focus on. It wasn't easy to remain guarded when faced with the honest look in those green eyes, and she knew that was the exact same thing he was thinking, watching her like that.
It wasn't, though. Hungary was a little too distracted by the way Austria's girlish pout was emphasized by the little dark mole at the corner of her mouth. It was altogether too easy, at least to him, to lose focus for wondering how he could make her smile again.
-----
"I could never do that, Holy Rome. Don't you think it'd be a waste?"
Hungary's voice from the open door of a nearby room snapped Austria out of her idle daydream. It was getting a bit late, and she'd been doing little more than wandering about the house, humming to herself and taking stock of her surroundings. What in the world were Hungary and Holy Roman Empire up to, and why did Hungary sound so concerned? Having been snuck up on earlier that day, Austria concluded that she was perfectly entitled to do a little snooping of her own, so outside the door and out of sight she remained, curious as to what was taking place within.
"But Hungary, you have to!"
"Now, now. What is it you don't like about your hair, Holy Rome?"
"I told you, Hungary; it's just too long."
Come to think of it, Austria realized, Holy Rome never went anywhere without her hat on. A few golden tendrils came loose from time to time, but truly, there was likely no one in Holy Rome's house who had laid eyes on their young mistress with her hair down.
"But what's wrong with long hair on a young lady? Austria grew hers long, and she keeps it pulled back out of the way. Italy keeps hers in a tidy ponytail, and I keep mine--oh dear, I said something wrong, didn't I?"
"N-no, it's all right." Austria, while not the best at reading people, could very well tell from her perch outside the door that it was not all right. "I just don't like it this way, you know? I'm going to rebuild the Roman Empire someday, and I...I...."
Austria leaned closer to the doorway, unable to discern the little realm's speech as it dropped to a mutter. Fortunately, Hungary's response was enough to fill her in.
"You want to look like a boy? For Heaven's sake, why?"
"B-because! Boys are strong, and I want to be a strong empire! I want to be able to protect you, and Miss Austria, and my big sister, and, and...and you know! The world's not like it was when Rome was around. As much as I try...I won't ever be quite like her. I can't let myself fall like she did. I have too much to lose."
For a moment, the two were silent. Austria could barely absorb what she'd just heard. Holy Rome had never been terribly ladylike, but she rarely came across as humble. No one in their little "family" was without their demons, it seemed.
After a stretch of time which was surely not as long as it felt, Hungary changed the subject.
"Listen, Holy Rome. Does Italy know you're a girl?"
"Wha--!" There, that was more like it. "W-why would...Of course she knows!"
"Does she really think you're a boy?" Hungary chuckled a little, sounding pleased to have momentarily distracted Holy Rome. "Honestly, it's because you're always wearing boys' clothes! Though really, Italy treats everyone around her the same, so I could see--"
"She doesn't think I'm a boy! Honest! I...It never came up, is all."
"I'll make a deal with you, Holy Rome. You can admit to me you want your hair cut because of Italy, and I'll trim it exactly how you want. Or..." A loud clicking of scissors was overheard from outside. "...You can insist it has nothing to do with her, and I'll cut it however I please."
An ultimatum? Austria wished that sort of thing still came as a surprise, but as sedate as Hungary made himself seem most of the time, he was really a strange man.
"What?! Don't do things like that! This is my head we're talking about!" Holy Rome's voice was getting shrill. "And anyway, what would short hair have to do with Italy? Nothing has to do with her! Nothing!"
"You're so easy to read, Miss Holy Rome." A flurry of snips. "You decided it, so..."
"Hungary, what are you doing?! That's my hair! You're cutting it short, right?!"
"Please hold still, Miss Holy Rome. You don't want your head all heavy on one side, do you?"
"Hungaryyy, please!"
"You're not being very ladylike, you know. Careful, I'm making a part."
"But, but my hair...."
This continued on for a while before Holy Rome's protests died down, along with the sound of the scissors. Austria could only imagine what had transpired vis-à-vis Holy Rome's hairstyle. She'd had Hungary trim her own hair before, and it had come out just fine. But Holy Rome didn't sound too happy....
"Don't you have anything to say? You don't hate it, do you?"
Holy Rome grunted, which sounded oddly adorable coming from such a little girl.
"It's...okay, I guess. I don't see why you made it like this."
"You don't? Why don't you come in and see Holy Rome's new look, Miss Austria?"
How on Earth did Hungary know she was out there?! She'd been perfectly silent, and hadn't moved an inch the whole time. Not wanting to make an issue of it, Austria stepped into the doorframe, a little sheepish as she did so.
Holy Rome was staring sternly down at the stray blond cuttings on the floor beneath her chair, face a little red. Hungary was holding a heavy ornate mirror taken from the wall behind him and beamed up at Austria as she approached, proud of his handiwork.
Two golden plaits now hung down Holy Rome's shoulders, tied with matching black ribbons that left a long tail beneath. Her fringe must have been growing out all this time, as it parted in the middle to hang long on either side, softly framing her tiny face and bright blue eyes. After all that fuss, Hungary had barely cut it at all; rather, he'd just given her a trim and style.
As loath as she would be to admit it herself, Holy Rome looked quite lovely.
"Hungary..." Austria gave a heavy sigh. "When you're done admiring your creation, please don't forget to sweep the floor, and remember that mirror you're holding is an antique." She glanced back down at Holy Rome, who was looking terribly self-conscious. "You look very nice, Holy Rome, but it's getting late. You should think of turning in."
The girl nodded shyly. "Uh...thanks, Miss Austria. I guess I'll go to bed now." Carefully, carefully, Holy Rome slipped down from her seat and carefully picked up a tiny lit candle from the sideboard.
Before the she left, Austria spoke up.
"Holy Rome. Were you going to say anything to Hungary?"
"O-oh." The chibi turned around and gave Hungary a shy smile. "Um, thank you for doing my hair. I guess I'll...get used to it."
"It's my pleasure, Miss Holy Rome." Hungary nodded, smiling pleasantly as he carefully replaced the mirror on its hook. "You get some rest, now."
"Mm!" With a nod in return, Holy Rome exited the room, hat clutched in one hand and candle held high in the other, and continued down the hall.
Hungary gazed after her for a moment before scratching his head and turning back to Austria.
"Ah! There's nothing quite like the pure love between two young girls, hm?"
"That sounds a bit wrong, Hungary." Austria's eye twitched, unable to fully believe he'd just said that. "You still think her feelings for Italy are...like that?"
"Beyond a doubt. It's for her that Holy Rome wishes to be like Italy's grandmother Rome...so that little one doesn't have to feel alone anymore." Snapping out of his reverie, he looked back to Austria. "Maybe it's just me, though. After all, she reminds me quite a bit of my first love."
Austria blinked despite herself. What was this about a first love?!
"Again, Hungary, you're saying very strange things."
"Ehh? No, I mean it; I knew a girl once very much like Holy Rome. I guess she's not quite as rambunctious, but..."
It then dawned on Hungary that Austria had the look of one trying not to swallow something bitter.
"...Er...perhaps we should head to bed as well."
"Good idea."
-----
After seeing her reflection in the mirror in such a way, Holy Rome had no idea how she was going to get any rest. It gave her a strange feeling indeed. Even her overstuffed down pillow didn't feel right; no matter how much she fluffed it, it didn't seem quite soft enough.
It seemed oddly warm, too. Hm.
"A-ah...Holy Rome...." Italy's voice! She was in Holy Rome's room with her!
"Italy! Where are you, Italy?"
"Um...You kinda have your hand on, um...."
"Huh?" She looked around in the semi-darkness, frustrated at her inability to pick out where Italy was.
"M--M--My panties...."
It took a good long minute before Holy Rome figured out where Italy was and why, exactly, the pillow she'd been fluffing so obsessively wasn't taking the right shape.
"I--ITALY!" Holy Rome sprang up about a foot in the air, a fairly impressive feat for a chibi. "What're you doing in my bed?!"
"Waagh!" Italy cried out, sitting up and smoothing her nightgown down over her knickers. "I'm sorry, Holy Rome! I just got lonely, so I thought I'd wait here for you, but if you want, I can go...."
"N-no." Holy Rome's face had never been hotter, being as she was astonished to discover that she'd just spent the few minutes unknowingly caressing Italy's bottom, and she hung her head in shame. "I'm sorry, Italy. I thought you were a pillow."
"Oh, that's okay." Italy's tone of voice had gone from anxious to cheerful in no time. "It actually felt kinda nice!"
"It...did?"
Just when the little German girl thought she couldn't be any more embarrassed, a light tug on her left braid reminded her of the events that had led up to her going to bed.
"What's this, Holy Rome?"
"Uh. Ah."
No clever answer came to mind.
"It's my hair, Italy. Hungary braided it for me."
"Oh!" The hand tugging at her braid let it fall loose. Holy Rome felt simply awful.
"I guess you had to find out some time, Italy. I'm...really a--"
"That's so cool, Holy Rome!" Italy clapped her tiny hands.
"C-Cool? How?"
"That you got your hair in braids! You must look so pretty!"
"You think so?" Pretty. Italy just called her pretty. She had to be asleep and dreaming already.
"Mm-hm! I can't wait to wake up in the morning and see how Mr. Hungary did your hair! Do you think he would braid mine too?"
For a moment, Holy Rome imagined Italy sweeping the garden walk in the sun, with one long braid down her back ending in a green ribbon, taking small, slow steps as she sang some Italian folk song for everyone to hear.
"That would be kinda nice...I mean, yeah! I'm sure Mr. Hungary will braid your hair for you too!"
"Yayyyyy!" Without warning, Italy tackled Holy Rome around the middle, knocking her back down on the sheets. "We'll be the prettiest young ladies in all of Europe!"
"Ahhhh..." This position was pleasant, yet overwhelming for poor Holy Rome.
Austria's aggravated voice could be heard from down the hall. "Girls, bedtime is not social hour. Please calm down and get to sleep, both of you."
This was followed by a tinkle of laughter from Hungary, which was summarily muffled.
"Ah! We should get under the covers, ve?" Italy whispered. "Goodnight, Holy Rome."
"Goodnight, Italy."
Holy Roman Empire slipped under her light summer blanket, wondering to herself if what she was feeling was "happiness".
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I adore Nyotalia stuff, so you had me at that alone, but pulling it off with such panache and wonderful imagery earned you +1000 bonus points. *golf clapping*
....I have a sad lack of Nyotalia icons, come to think of it. Must fix! *dashes off*
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I just wish I hadn't been as tired as I was when I wrote that comment, or else I would have given one more worthy of being mushy over. Your Holy Rome was utterly darling, and I don't even usually care that much about HRE.
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Italia seems more observant about genders than the male HRE is. xDD