Daisy at Night

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, I'm not making profits off this, I'm just blowing off steam and wasting time.

Ever since they met, Germany saw Italy as a sort of daisy - simple, innocent, blooming in sunshine, and spreading happiness to everyone he came into contact with. In short, Italy was the purest, most beautiful flower in the garden of Germany's life. But one night, his views on Italy were altered.

One night, Germany awoke to find himself alone in his bed. Something seemed off. He checked the clock: midnight. Italy would have usually been curled up next to him fast asleep by now. Something was definitely not right here.

First Germany checked the bathroom. No Italian there. Then the kitchen. Although there was a lingering scent of pasta, no Italy there either. He was about to go check Switzerland's backyard for dead bodies when he heard a sound long absent from his house: the delicate tinkling of a piano from the parlor on the other side of the house. Germany had forgotten his house had a parlor, much less a piano, but remembered the addition from when Austria was staying at his house.

Germany crept down the hall to peer through the partially open door. And there sat Italy, sitting at the piano in all his glory, making it thrum out the most haunting and beautiful melody Germany had ever heard. There was Italy, bathed in the light of the full moon shining through the tall french windows. Such light would usually make one look ghostly or sickly pale, but it made Italy glow as if from the inside out with the illumination of some secret, inner strength.

A strength, Germany realized, could never be found anywhere near a battlefield, for if it was, there would be no battle. The strength of true beauty to melt away even the toughest, most battle hardened of souls and render them as vulnerable and soft as they were when they were born.

It was then that Germany's perceptions of Italy were altered forever: For even if a flower is amazingly beautiful by day, it only blooms to its full potential, its true beauty, at night, when all the world is asleep and will pass it by.

"Oh, Feliciano," Germany whispered while scurrying back to his room as the song ended. He hurriedly crawled back into bed and quickly feigned slumber as he heard Italy come up the stairs. Italy then entered the room and laid down next to Germany.

"It's called "The Night Flower". Grandpa Rome helped me compose it a long, long time ago. I hope you liked it. Goodnight Ludwig," the North Italian said, after which he promptly fell asleep. And after a few minutes of shock, Germany replied "Gute Nacht meine kleine Blume". (Good Night my little flower)