AN: So chapter two is up! Poor Feli, i do feel so sorry for him. He needs a serious hug after this chapter. (sigh)

As for Germany, well, he's kinda dumb for not being able to put two and two together. But in his case, he had thought that Italy had been a girl, and had completely forgotten 'her' name. Some things in life just can't be helped, I guess.

Stay tuned for the next chapter because Prussia and South Italy with make their awesome debut! (With Prussia's awesomeness and Romano's dirty mouth)

Enjoy~! And Review are always welcome! To me, they are the oreos to my milk! xD

-Sunny

Chapter 2

"Italy?"

Feliciano stumbled, dropping his ladle into the pot of boiling water. He looked up, startled, to see Germany staring at him with his sharp, blue eyes.

"Y-yes?"

"You've been stirring the pot for ten minutes non-stop now. Is anything the matter?"

Feliciano uttered a small noise of distress as he brought the ladle out of the pot. The noodles were slightly overdone, swelling past the point of perfection. Feliciano said nothing, silently putting on his oven mitts and hoisting the overcooked noodles to the sink. The hot steam shot into Italy's face as he poured the liquid into the drain.

"Italy, perhaps you should take a break." Germany's voice sounded from somewhere in the background. "You seem out of it today, and it would be unfortunate if my kitchen burned down because of your spacing out."

"Ah, I'm okay. I promise I'll get it right this time!"

But when Feliciano had turned around, Ludwig had already rolled up his sleeves, and tucked his glasses in his breast pocket. The tall blond man moved fluidly, grabbing clean pans and spatulas. Italy watched from the side. Unsure of what to do, the Italian simply turned his back on the other man and began scrubbing the bottoms of the pot.

"Hey Germany?"

"Ja?" There was a clang of metal cooking utensils.

'Do you remember me, at all?' "What are you going to do with that broom?"

"As I said before, I'm considering to chuck it. I have no use for it, really."

"Oh."

"Why are you so interested in it?" Germany cast a suspicious glance at the young Italian. "You've been acting strange ever since you've seen that thing."

'Holy Rome, don't you remember me at all?' "Oh, no-I just used to have a broom like that when I was little. That's all."

"Ah. I see."

For once, Italy breathed a silent sigh, glad of the quiet settling in the kitchen. He forced himself to think of only scrubbing away the charred marks at the bottom of the pot.

"Hey, Germany?"

"Ja?"

"Have you ever liked anyone before?"

There was a pause. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean by 'like.'"

"You know, have you ever loved anyone before? When you were younger."

Germany's hands stopped chopping the onions on the cutting board. He turned his head to see the back of Feliciano's head, bent over the sink. "Why are you being more annoying than usual today?"

"Ve, I was just wondering Germany. Please don't get angry at me."

The German did not respond. He simply went back to cutting up vegetables and scarping them into a large frying pan with hot oil. A satisfying sizzling escaped from the pan. Italy continued to soap the pot.

"Ja. I did. A long time ago."

Italy stopped cleaning, scorching hot water assaulting his red hands. "wha-"

"I did 'like' somebody. But that's all in the past." It seemed as though that was all Germany was willing to say. "What about you, Italy?"

The sable-haired boy could not utter a word. He stared at the pot, overflowing with steaming water. His hands were deeply submerged inside, distorted by the ripples.

'Holy Rome, you don't remember me, at all'

"I did too." Feliciano choked out, as he lugged the pot to the side. The water streamed violently out from the top. "But that person left-and that person doesn't remember me anymore."

There was a dull pounding on the counter behind Italy. Was Germany making pastries?

"Italy?"

"y-yes?"

"I'm sorry." Feliciano turned to see large, clear blue eyes staring straight at him. He had to quickly swerve his head to swallow back the tears.

'Oh, Holy Rome-you don't remember.'

"You okay, Italy?"

"ve, I'm just a bit hungry." Feliciano lied faintly.

"Go lie down on the couch. I'll be done in a few minutes."

Ludwig's concern for his friend was growing ever stronger. He watched as the younger man made his way to the living room, his movements slow and staggered as though drunk. Ludwig's voice of reasoning nagged at him that it was only normal for someone to be depressed about losing a loved one, and having to think back on it. But the something in the German's heart was telling him there was much, much more to Italy's mood than some silly past crush.

Frowning, Germany finished pouring his cake batter into a round tin, setting it into the oven. He started slicing the spicy wurst he had ready, and placed them atop the rice and vegetable stir-fry he had made-a dish he had learned to make with the courtesy of Japan.

'Have you ever liked anyone before?'

Germany shook his head, staring at the food before him. He felt a wry smile forming on his lips. Of course he had-on occasional nights, he would even dream about her. The one he loved. The one he's sure he had loved. Her pale, rosy cheeks and soft brown hair. Her high-pitched whines and bashful face. Her closed eyes, and her clumsy movements. Germany remembered it all as clear as day, all save one thing.

For the life of him, Ludwig could not remember her name. Because of this, the man often wondered if she had been real at all-and that maybe she was just some sort of dream fairy that existed only in his subconscious to tease him. But Ludwig knew that fairies did not exist.

The sponge cake took shorter time to set than the man had assumed. He creamed on his homemade whipped butter cream, and grated dark chocolate onto the top. With the swift, experienced speed that only Ludwig could muster, he topped the edges with candied cherries, and sprinkled the top with confectioner's sugar. He stood back to examine his masterpiece.

"Italy!"

The Italian came stumbling back into the kitchen in all his former clumsiness. His expression was less dark than before, easing the wrinkles on Ludwig's forehead.

"Ve?"

"I'm done. Let's eat."

Italy spotted the cake sitting on the counter. His face brightened considerably at the sight of the dessert. "Germany! You made a cake!"

"Ja. I figured a little something sweet would be nice." Germany replied, rubbing the back of his neck. Italy smiled a smile so bright, that Ludwig felt temporarily blinded. It was those certain smiles which made him absolutely tongue-tied, for no apparent reason.

"Germany's baking is always so good! His baking skills are almost as good as mine!"

"Almost?"

"Eheheh… I mean, it's good! IT'S GOOD!" Feliciano cried as Ludwig grabbed him in a headlock. "IT'S BETTER! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"

Germany smiled, his former worries having been forgotten. Italy was back to normal now. There was nothing a little food and cake could not fix.

What he had failed to notice, were the dried tearstains that ran down Feliciano's cheeks.

I want cake now :(

LOL

Reviews on how to improve my writing are always welcome! Thanks loves ;)