Italy shut the front door behind him with a smile, following after Germany with a small smile. He skipped past the man, placing the bag of groceries on the kitchen work surface.
"My turn to cook tonight!" he smirked. Germany rolled his eyes and smiled.
"Ok. But don't over-do it on the portions." The boy nodded absently, hastily pulling everything out of the bag.

A little under an hour and Italy emerged from the kitchen proudly holding a huge tray of steaming pasta. Germany's face darkened at the sight, passing a hand to his head in despair as the boy set the dish on the table. Italy sat down, a giddy smile on his face.
"Well?"
"Ugh, what did I tell you about portions, Italy?" Germany said, rubbing his forehead. "You're just lucky you have a high metabolism." he muttered under his breath.
"Hm?" Germany looked up to find the boy looking back at him, his mouth stuffed with pasta, sauce dribbling down his chin.
"UGH. Italy! Stop! Look! You've had more than half of the tray! Stop before you're sick!" he urged, moving over and wiping the boy's mouth with a napkin. "I have to treat you like a baby sometimes! Remind me how old you are?"
"500 years old." Italy pouted miserably.
"Exactly. So I shouldn't have to be telling you to stop eating when you've clearly had enough!"
"But it tastes so good." the boy moaned. He clutched his stomach and threw his head back in discomfort.
"Now look! You've gone and given yourself a stomach ache. Tauschen." Germany shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. "I'll go and get you a glass of water. Stay there and I'll be right back. Hopefully this will teach you a lesson." he grumbled, marching into the kitchen. He returned a few moments later to find Italy sprawling pathetically on the floor. "Italy?" he approached the boy, and cocked his head. "A-are you ok?" Italy squirmed, writhing on his back and clutching his stomach. He rolled back and forth incessantly.
"Please make it stop, Germany. Its painful." he whimpered. Germany knelt down and gently poured the water into the boy's mouth. Most missed his mouth and ended up dribbling down his pasta covered chin.
"Better?" Germany asked softly. The boy shook his head weakly. Germany frowned and made to give the boy another lecture when a knock at the front door broke his train of thought. "Hold on. I'll be right back." he said and got to his feet.

"Oh Romano its you." Germany mused coldly, upon opening the door.
"Ugh, look, do me a favour and just give these to Vene would you? They got the address wrong when shipping it over here and ended up at my place." he said, holding out a grey, suit bag.
"Oh. Jah, of course. I'll give them to him." Germany blinked, taking the suit bag. "He's not feeling too good at the moment but-"
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM! OUT OF THE WAY, BASTARD!" Romano exploded, pushing past the man, his head darting in every direction to find Italy. Upon finally finding the boy, Romano dropped to his knees and clutched at the roots of his hair. "V-vene! Fratello, speak to me! What has that bastard done to you..."
"I didn't do anything, Romano." Germany said bluntly, draping the suit bag over the back of a chair. "He just overate and now he has a stomach ache."
"POISONED!" The man spat.
"I didn't-" Germany stopped, acknowledging the tone of his voice and calmed down. "I'm not going to argue with you, Romano. I don't really care what you think. But I didn't do anything to Italy. That, I can assure you of."
"I feel sick." the boy squeaked.
"I-its ok, Vene." Romano comforted. "Come on, go to bed. And when you wake up, you can try on those new suits you ordered, ok?" Germany smirked from the other side of the room, folding his arms. Never in all his time of knowing Romano, had he ever seen the man so fraternal and caring. Perhaps it was a side of him that only ever showed itself in times of concern. Italy struggled to his feet and, with his arm around Romano for support, Germany watched the two men slowly make their way upstairs. He decided to leave them be and instead, sat back down at the table to finish the small amount of pasta left in the dish.

Romano came back down the stairs a little while later.
"He's asleep."
"Good." Germany forced a smile and propped his glasses up on his head, lowering the book he was reading. "I assume you're going home now?"
"No!" Romano scoffed. "As if I trust you and him alone! I still have my doubts about you and I don't believe what you say." he squinted, eyeing Germany darkly. Germany shrugged and put his readjusted his glasses back over his eyes, resuming to read his book.
"Fine. But I wouldn't be shouting like that or you'll wake Italy up." Romano stopped, his mouth agape. He screwed up his face and turned his nose up.
"Shut up." he growled, slouching on one of the dining room chairs, resting his head in his hands.

A few hours crawled by, Romano and Germany having to painfully endure each other's company-even though the awkwardness that hung thick in the air was mainly because of Romano, who would constantly whip his head round and snatch evil glances at Germany at every given opportunity. That being said, Germany tried to ignore him as best as he could, although Romano's penetrating glare was often hard to ignore. Italy's slow descent broke the silence, the sound cutting through the awkward silence. Romano leapt to his feet as the boy wearily stumbled into the room.
"Fratello! Are you feeling better?" Germany removed his glasses and looked in Italy's direction.
"Yes, how are you feeling, Italy?" he chimed in with a smile. The boy grimaced, on the verge of tears and shook his head.
"N-not good..." he said feebly. Germany frowned.
"This isn't right. A stomach ache from overeating shouldn't give you symptoms as bad as thes-" before he could even finish his sentence, Germany watched the boy's eyes roll back lifelessly and he flopped head first on the floor. "Italy!" Germany sprung from the sofa and to the boy's side, where he scooped up the smaller man and looked with concern to his pale face.
"What the hell is wrong with him!" Romano cried, panic washing over his voice.
"I-I don't know..." Germany responded, as collected as he could, even though, deep inside, a dark feeling was beginning to churn in his stomach. "This has never happened before! I-I don't understand! Italy? Italy can you hear me?" The boy did not respond. His eyelids did not even so much as twitch. Germany shook Italy's shoulders gently. "Italy please! Come on! Snap out of it!" Again, Italy lay still in Germany's arms.
"I don't think calling his name is going to help, idiot!" Romano retorted scornfully.
"Well what do you suggest we do then!" Germany hissed back. Romano bit his lip and panicked.
"I-I don't know!"
"Well then, be quiet and let me think!" Germany snapped. "Wait!" he said, his eyes darting back and forth on the ground. "Yes. This has to work." he said with a triumphant smile.
"W-what are you doing? Germany? Germany?" Romano watched in horror as Germany reached and yanked the curl on the side of Italy's head. His eyes widened as the roots of the boy's hair suddenly began to darken, bleeding like ink until his whole head of hair had changed to a crimson colour. Italy lifted his head suddenly, making both Germany and Romano jump. Romano suddenly clapped a hand to his mouth. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO HIM!" Italy turned round slowly to face Germany, his eyes wide. Germany let out a silent gasp. Italy's eyes were bright red.

End of chapter 1

A/N: Ahhh ok! And there is the first chapter of what will probably be a 3 part series. Any feedback is much appreciated!