Anyway, I'm exhausted, I just finished writing the story, and I'm going to post it and go to bed now. So, here it is. It's kind of short, but it's got a little more fluff in it than it has before. I'm just trying to torture you guys (and myself) for as long as possible so I can build up the sexual tension! Haha! Also, I've never been drunk before, so I've never been hung over before and all I really had to go off of was how people I know have acted when they've come to school (or that one time to a Scholar's Bowl tournament...) hung over. Sorry if it's not accurate! Alright, well I'm going to bed. Catch you reader-sans later~!
- Turtle-chan
You wake up with sunlight
streaming into the room. There is
something warm draped over you and something hard under your head. You open your eyes and rub the sleep out of
them, looking around groggily. How’d I get back to Germany’s house? And why am I on the couch? You sit up and sling your legs over the edge
of the sofa, cringing away from the cold floor briefly before getting up and
letting whatever it was that covered you slide to the ground. You’re still wearing the same clothes you had
on at the party. The house is dead quiet
and it makes you a little nervous. Where is everyone?
You run up the stairs and
quietly peek into everyone’s rooms.
Italy and Japan are fast asleep, but Germany isn’t there. Your heart beats wildly and you run back down
the stairs and into the hallway. Without
stopping, you run to Germany’s office and open the door just a crack. At first, you don’t see anything in the dark,
but then you notice something in the back of the room. Germany is lying down on a couch with a hand
covering his eyes. His chest rises and
falls evenly and you let out a sigh of relief.
“Oh, mein Kopf,” he groans, rolling onto his side and uncovering his
eyes but leaving them closed. His brows
are drawn close together in a grimace and he flaps his hand in the general
direction of the door. “Go avay,
Italy. I haf zee vorst headache unt you
are too loud.”
“Sorry. I just got worried when I didn’t hear anyone
up,” you say quietly, starting to back out of the room.
Germany’s eyes open and he looks
at you, seeming to take a moment to focus his vision. “(y/n)?
Is zat you?” he asks you, peering at you through the darkness.
“Yeah,” you respond, still using
a quiet voice.
“I am sorry. I dit not mean to snap at you. I zought you vere Italy,” he tells you,
shaking his head and rolling back over.
“It’s fine. Do you want me to bring you anything? Italy and Japan are asleep still,” you say,
lingering in the doorway.
“Wasser. Bitte,” he responds.
You nod and close the door
quietly behind you. As you walk to the
kitchen, you allow yourself to relax and give a small smile. Germany is obviously hung over. Apparently
he slips up and speaks more German when he’s hung over. I’m glad he’s taught me some simple words! You climb up in a chair as usual and pull
down a glass. You debate whether or not
to put ice in it, and end up deciding not to.
If he has a headache, then you don’t want to make it worse by giving him
a brain freeze! And the water is
important for diluting the alcohol in his blood stream. You fill the glass with water and take it
back to Germany’s office, not knocking on the door before you come in.
To prevent the light from
worsening his headache, you shut the door behind you before advancing into the
room. You have to carefully feel your
way around with your feet so that you don’t bump into things, but luckily
Germany is a neat freak, so you don’t have much to dodge.
“Can you hold your hand out,
Germany? I don’t want to trip while I’m
trying to find you,” you say in an almost whisper.
“Ja,” he responds and you hear a rustling slightly to your left and
forward. You follow the sound, holding
your free hand out until you brush into something warm and rough. It closes around your hand and you realize
that it’s Germany’s hand.
“Is zat you?” he asks you, squeezing
your hand a little.
“Y-yes,” you respond. You’re exceedingly grateful that it’s so dark
you can’t even see your hand in front of your face. You’re blushing furiously and it’s nice that
you don’t have to work to hide it from Germany.
“Here, I brought your water.”
You hear rustling again and the
glass leaves your hand, large fingers brushing against yours in the
process. Germany hasn’t let go of your
other hand. You hear him take a sip of
the water. What do I do? It’s not that I
don’t enjoy this, but… Ah, I’m so
embarrassed!
“Danke, (y/n),” Germany says.
“Bitte,” you respond, hoping that your pronunciation isn’t as bad as
you think it is.
You hear a rustling sound
accompanied by a brief, deep chuckle.
“Here, Mädchen,” Germany
says. “Kome unt sit.”
You hear a light
thumping sound which you assume is Germany tapping the couch, so you reach your
free hand out until you touch the sofa and you gingerly lower yourself down
onto it. “Are you feeling any
better? You seem to be in better
spirits,” you say, wondering what’s gotten into him all of a sudden.
“Hm, I do feel a little better,” he responds
thoughtfully.
“Oh, that’s good,” you say, not knowing how else to
reply.
“Ja,” Germany
answers. There is a heavy silence
between the two of you for several minutes until Germany speaks up again. “Um, about my Bruder’s party,” he says hesitantly.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s fine,” you reply a little
nervously. Too many things happened that
have set your head spinning and you don’t really want to think about it.
“Nein. I know zat ve all aktet crazy unt I vant to
apologize for lettink you see me like zat,” he tells you, squeezing your hand a
little tighter.
You’re speechless for a few moments, your mouth hanging
open but no words coming out. “N-no, I
understand. You guys seemed to be having
fun, so it’s fine. Besides, I’m sure it
helps if you can let loose every once in a while. You’re always working, so…,” you reply once you
find your voice again, but you realize that you’re starting to ramble, so you
stop talking abruptly.
Germany makes a noise that sounds like a sigh. “You are too kint,” he says. “Efer since zee first day you haf been nosink
but kint to all of us. You efen know how
to make Italy behafe. I just do not understand
how to be as gentle as you.” You don’t
like his tone. It’s a tired, world-weary
tone that you recognize all too well. It
may not mean anything yet, but it could be a warning of bad things to
come. Bad things that you don’t want to
think about.
“Thank you for the compliment, Germany, but really I’m
not doing anything special. I just like
to see people happy. I spent a large
portion of my life feeling very unhappy and because of that I did some things I
regret, but it all shaped who I am today.
If you weren’t a workaholic, exercise-obsessed, potato-loving, gruff
drill seargeant then you wouldn’t be you.
You wouldn’t be Germany. I think
that Japan and Italy understand that too and they love you for it, in their own
ways, just like I can tell that you love them in yours. So chin up!
You’re great just the way you are!” you tell him cheerfully. Your cheeks and ears are burning and you’re
excessively aware of your hand in Germany’s, but you force yourself to hold
still.
“Danke,”
Germany says so quietly that you almost miss it. He gives your hand a final squeeze before
letting go. You hear noises coming from
the kitchen, so you stand up and start making your way to the door.
You open it just a crack and slip out, keeping only your
head inside the room. “Bitte,” you respond with a gentle
smile. You don’t know if Germany saw it
or not because he’s looking down at his feet when you close the door, but you
somehow feel satisfied and happy.
“Good morning, (y/n)~!” Italy exclaims, running over and
attacking you with a hug as you enter the kitchen.
“Good morning, Italy,” you giggle. You nod to Japan and flash him a conservative
smile. “So, how are you guys feeling? You should make sure to drink lots of water
today.”
“I’m fine~!” Italy tells you, and he seems to be. For such a little dude, he certainly managed
to hold his alcohol well.
“I am well also,” Japan responds quietly.
“That’s good,” you say, smiling at them both. “Germany, on the other hand, was completely
wasted so he has a pretty bad hangover now.
I’d recommend not bothering him today, Italy.”
“Ohhhh, so that’s why your face is all pink,” Italy says
and you feel your eyes widen and your cheeks darken. “I thought you had gone to take care of
Germany~!”
“I-I don’t know what you’re insinuating, Italy,” you
respond as calmly as you can, climbing up onto a chair and pulling down three
glasses.
Japan notices your reaction and chuckles to himself. Indeed. Things are starting to become interesting.
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