I made it somehow from the exams guys but sadly having the class pressure you to finish your half done exam of 100 science questions, not the best. It's seems that I had passed Physical Science and all my other subjects so I'm in the clear. God, I need my coffee.

I do not own Hetalia.

Ludwig hadn't even bothered to knock first, he knew the Italian brothers well enough to know that they never locked their door. The blond grunted as he peeked into the kitchen curiously, Feliciano had been right. Lovino hadn't finished his breakfast and it was already evening in Italy, the kitchen was bare of any cooking utensils or the scent of a cooked meal. He glanced towards the stairs in wonder, had he really stayed up their all day? He decided it was best to check on the other, who knows what he was doing up there. He had probably threw a tantrum and trashed his own room, he could only assume since that was what his personality portrayed. He couldn't help but think back to the outburst his best friend had created, so he did threaten him behind his back daily. He thought it was only when he was present. The German made his trek up the stairs but winced when he heard a step creek under his weight.

It was painfully silent.

"Tch...", he continued his way up and was met with a dark corridor. Lovino hadn't even bothered to turn on any lights from what he can tell. He wasn't liking anything that he's seen so far. Ludwig marched over to where he knew was to be the Southern Italian's room, he pressed his ear to the door. He heard someone of the other side breathing and bed sheets being kicked off. The blond carefully opened the door, the other was only sleeping but he seemed a bit paler in contrast to his usual olive complexion. He came closer to get a better look at him, his cheeks were stained with old tear tracks. He furrowed his brows in concern, he had cried himself to sleep. The blond made his way out of the room and down the stairs, he might as well make something for him to eat. It would be cruel to let the other starve.

'Why am I even helping this guy? All he does is yell, insult, and threaten me whenever he can.', he thought. But he knew it was inappropriate to think like that, it was obvious that something or someone had put him into this state and he needed to solve this mystery. And fast. He honestly hated seeing Feliciano in the previous state of sadness that had overcome him. He felt his cell phone vibrate from within his phone. He took it out and checked the ID- It was his brother.

"Ja?"

"West! Why can't I use your credit?!"

"Oh that, I canceled it.", he wasn't too surprised with his older brother's attempt at using his money. He had wisely gotten another credit card, transferred the remaining of his cash into his new one, and had never told Gilbert of this. Now he didn't have to deal with being bankrupt for a whole month or more.

"What?! Now I can't buy Birdie his birthday gift, you don't want to have Birdie crying on his day! You heartless bastard!", the German sighed. It was two weeks prior to Matthew's birthday, he wasn't surprised to hear Gilbert freaking out. The albino tended to go ahead of schedule and start planning schemes when it comes to his friend's birthdays, he get very whiny around those particular times. Though he didn't like the mental image of his friend crying, he had to reinforce that Gilbert couldn't be pushing him around.

"Then get a job like everyone else, gott bruder.", he kept his voice steady and quiet. He was scared that if he raised his voice then the sleeping Italian upstairs would here him and start attacking him or something. Probably with a mustache or something harmless, but he could never be sure of that.

"Fine, be that way. Making your big bruder do so much work, for that I won't be posting a blog entry about you! So HA!" Work? So playing video games online and hacking into Ivan Braginski's facebook account was his job?

"So how's it going over there? Did he bitch you out?"

"He's just like the way Feliciano described him, right now he's sleeping."

"Snap a photo, quick! I want to see his sleeping face!"

"Bruder, you're dating Matthew. You wouldn't want him smacking you with a hockey stick again, would you?" Ludwig heard the East German quiet down after that. He felt himself smirk, the Canadian sure had him whipped. He made his way towards the kitchen and caught sight of a bowl full of cold pasta sitting on the table. He shook his head and started to wrap it up in tin foil to save.

"Well, I gotta get going. I'm meeting Birdie for a date, Kiku and Feli are getting cuddly and it's sickening. I need my daily dose of cuteness and maple syrup, kesesese~", Gilbert cackled into the phone. Sometimes he wonder how the other blond dealt with his egolistical older brother. He made his way too the refrigerator and searched for some ingredients. He wasn't very good with making Italian food and he was pretty sure Lovino would throw a fit if he were being fed German food. He could make them some Schwarzwälder kirschtorte to eat, he could just tell the other it wasn't German, since that was what he felt like making and sweets always made you better after feeling down.

"Alright, bruder. Just don't get yourselves arrested and I swear to Gott if you ever streak-", he was cut off by the other almost immediately. Gilbert had went into a rant about how it hadn't been their fault, for the both very drunk, and that other time when he had gotten arrested for making fun of a mall cop for bringing in a live animal- a polar bear- into a store or even having the little guy at all. Matthew had stayed 'invisible' during the whole thing. Ludwig had long gone hung up once the albino had gotten to the part where they had 'awesomely' escaped and was in the middle of telling him about the hot sex they had. The blond pulled back his hair in relief that the painful one-sided conversation had ended. He took his time in bake, knowing full well that rushing would only ruin his beloved pastry. The German went over to check if his cake was prepared to be taken out when he thought he caught sight of a hair curl. An Italian hair curl to be exact but he only thought it was his imagination and went back to work. Ice-blue eyes looked out the kitchen window, there seemed to be a field of tomatoes outside and flowers blooming throughout the back of the Italy's villa. It was beautiful, he noted that he would have to ask Veneciano who their gardener was.

"C-Ci-Ciao...", he turned to see the newcomer.

Lovino had awoken from his troubled dreamland and had sat there for quiet the while. He didn't know what he was exactly waiting for, he felt like an idiot. Antonio wouldn't suddenly burst in yelling about how everything had been a mistake and that he actually loved him. He had tossed that out the window immediately, he shouldn't daydream about stuff like that when he knew very well that it would never happen. The man had given the other his reason, all in bold words. He tossed and turned, he didn't want to go downstairs, he felt that he didn't have the energy to do that. Hell, to do anything. So here he was just glaring at his ceiling as if awaiting for the apocalypse. He felt his stomach grumbled and he fought the urge to cringe, he didn't really have an appetite at the moment. The brunette thus began playing with his old Slinky that he had acquired during World War II. He would never admit it but it was his favorite toy to play with. His emerald-hazel eyes shimmered in joy at the sight of the contraption instantly and he let a small smile surface.

"It's been a while.", he said. Lovino thanked Richard James for creating the toy, as a human no less. He scowled a bit at the thought. He rarely ever referred to himself a half-nation since other nations had began to label Veneciano as the whole of Italy. He was often referred himself as his human half, Lovino Vargas, when it came to personal things. He watched his Slinky transform into different shapes, some that he had seen before or others not so much. He buried his head into his pillow and let out a sigh. He was very content with his relaxed position, he glanced over to his clock and froze instantly open catching sight of the object.

It was his old stuffed toy bull that Antonio had given to him while visiting him for a tour around the newer parts of his country. His eyes darkened upon memory of that day.

"Romano!", he heard the Spaniard yell. Said male turned to face a broad chest and then darkness as he was smothered. He was being hugged. Hugged. HUGGED. By a tomato bastard! He did their usual routine of Spain being too affectionate and South Italy raining punishment against his offender. Once again, the nation found himself gasping for air and his abdomen suffering from the headbutt that the other unleashed.

"Stop doing that, chigiiii!", the Italian was blushing furiously.

"Ah-po-por que? Why do you keep doing that, mi amor?", the other moaned. He stood up after recovering rather quickly and retreated to Lovino's side, grabbing his hand. Lacing their fingers together, he shot him goofy grin. The Italian couldn't help but blush in return to the gesture and sported on a frown to counter the overwhelming warmth in his chest. He followed the representative of Spain through the streets of the newest addition of stores and building, introducing one as his museum. He had been looking through the art gallery from Dali's time when he felt the presence of his boyfriend disappear. He scanned the hall he was currently in and shrugged. He could at least browse through them in peace. That was when a stuffed bull was shoved into his face, he bit back a scream.

"Here you go, it's a mini Tomate!", Antonio exclaimed. Lovino stumbled a few steps back and tried, failing, to look calm. Emerald eyes gleamed in happiness when he handed the toy over to his ex-henchman.

"What...the hell?", he mumbled.

"It's for you, Roma. I wanted you to have this since it's so cute and similar to you, hahaha~", Antonio grasped his hand and deposited the trinket.

He shook his head out of the memory, he shouldn't be thinking of such things. Antonio had ended it for a reason and he couldn't just start this again. He felt a headache coming on, he was just about to bury himself into his blanket. That was when he caught a scent of something sweet being cooked downstairs. It smelt mouth watering, he had to admit. He could see light from downstairs leaking in from the crack of his door having recently been open. He raised an eyebrow at this curiously, then he felt panic hit him. Was it the mafia? Had they snuck into his home? Did they hurt Feliciano? Three words came to mind.

Oh. Fuck. No.

He launched himself from his bed and strode over to his closet with haste. Lovino grabbed the first thing he saw inside, a revolver, and quietly closed the door as to not alert the intruders. He growled in exhaustion, now wasn't the time for this shit. He really didn't want to beat them up or shot at them right now. All he wanted to do was stay in bed and sleep forever but of course, they didn't want that at all. The mafia only existed just to pester him for random things, in his opinion. He stealthily stepped out into the hallway, keeping his breathing steady and eyes glancing from side to side. The dark brunette made his way down the steps quietly, he gun cocked and at ready to fire. His hand was shaking (from excitement, dammit!), and his breathing irregular as he thought up more reasons at to why they were there. Lovino peeked his head into the kitchen and almost dropped his weapon in surprise.

It was that potato-bastard, Ludwig.

He seemed to be at peace with baking his pastry. The dark brunette stowed his gun away, strapped to the waistband of his boxers and hidden by his bulky t-shirt. What was that guy doing here? In his kitchen? Was he here to rub the fact that he lost the tomato bastard in his face? His heart felt as though it had been stabbed over countless times at the thought. It was without a doubt, true.

He always harassed the blonde since the day they had meet. He had his own damn reasons for hating the German, he just didn't voice them. The Italian gulped nervously, maybe he snapped and came here to make him feel pain. Well, he had enough pain in his system. Maybe he wouldn't feel anything since pain and pain would cancel each other out. But he couldn't be too sure. He leaned in further to get a better look at what he was doing now when he saw that the other had turned in his direction. He pulled back and pinned his body to the wall that hid him from view. Shit! Did he see him? Oh he was dead. The other had surely seen him. He could shoot the bastard and escape but he knew that his fratellino wouldn't be happy about that. He wanted his Northern counterpart to be happy, just like any other sibling would want.

Well it was better to get it over with.

"C-Ci-Ciao...", he stuttered. Lovino wanted to strangle himself for stuttering. Lovino Vargas never stuttered! Well...South Italy, at least. He kept his emerald-hazel speckled eyes fixed on the German with a fierce glare, arms crossed and his stature read to Ludwig that he was confident. To make up for his little slip up earlier.

And they meet.

Touché, Ludwig, Touché. Wonder how Gilbert feels about that?

Schwarzwälder kirschtorte: commonly known as Black Forest cake in the United States. It is known for Black Forest region in southeastern Germany and is one of the most famous German desserts. The famous confectioner Josef Keller (1887-1981) claimed to have invented the modern-style kirschtorte in 1915 at the Café Agner in Bad Godesberg, but it was never confirmed if he had.

Just something to know, I recommend to try some. I've baked one at home and I must say, incredibly delicious and it went well with my sickeningly sweet coffee.