Welcome! What follows are a series of PrussiaxHungary one-shots for a larger "Choose your own Adventure" on another site. But I figured you'd all over here would enjoy a little PruHun.

Title: Be Careful What You Wish For

Summary: Three items in a little white box are all that remain of the time that Hungary loved Prussia. A withered wildflower that got him his first kiss, a bloodied bit of white fabric from defending it, and a lock of golden hair that reminds him to be careful what he wishes for. And what does a young magic child have to do with it all? 3 PruHun one shots, and a touch of AusHun if you squint.

Chapter Summary: The following is a bit of an introduction from part of the HetaVenture to give you a little background for the one shots. From Italy's POV. One shots will be told from Prussia's.

Enjoy!

Italy's Point of View

You stand and follow Prussia, clumsily tripping over objects you can't see in the dark. Finally reaching the bedroom, Prussia flicks on the light. The bedroom, surprisingly to you, is extremely neat and organized, the bed sheets even tucked in. Though you slowly realize as you look around that Prussia is German after all.

On the dresser in a slim vase sits a single red rose, blooming as bright and full as the day it was given, a small tag tied loosely to the stem. Upon closer inspection the tag has two words inscribed on it in loopy letters; Liebe, Lizzie. Prussia notices your wandering eyes.

"Over here, Ita," Prussia chides, and you turn to face him. From somewhere he has procured a small white box, a Prussian ensign stamped to the side. He hands it to you.

Lifting the lid, you look inside to find three items. The first is a small, withered wildflower, its center black from which protrudes frail yellow petals, faded marks of red bleeding from the center into the petals. The second is a small bloodstained piece of white fabric, its edges torn and frayed, the crimson red stains patterning it in smears and splotches.

It's the final item in the box, however, that catches the breath in your throat. The third item in the box is a small curling lock of fiercely golden hair. The sight of it awakes memories in your mind of unruly strands sticking defiantly out from a golden rimmed hat.

You look up to see Prussia lying on the bed, his head resting on a pile of black and white pillows, and his crimson eyes watch you as you look over the items in the box, your own staring back wide-eyed.

"Each of those items has a story," Prussia almost whispers, his eyes closed. "This," he points to his silver hair, "used to be that golden, and these," he points to his haunting crimson eyes, "used to be as blue as bruder's. That flower got me my first kiss. And that piece of cloth is all that remains of defending it."

Translations: (I'm sorry if I butcher anything, I have to rely on google translate, and a bit of common sense.)

German:

Liebe - Love.