[ It isn't as if France hasn't watched Italy and Germany for years, privately speculating the odds of the two of them getting together. In true nation sense, those years were actually centuries. In true nation sense, he'd done his part in snuffing out the guilt by compartmentalizing it away and pushing forward with more trivial things being his most noticeable outbursts in recent years. But, France can practically sense the anxiety and for a moment shares it.
Germany's eyes slip toward the ceiling, so he misses the flash of concern in the Frenchman's attention that only deepens into a frown as the man rambles on. Inwardly, he's thinking that this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Ultimately, he isn't surprised that Italy would be the one to confess. He'd always been the more openly affectionate between the two in their unlikely union.
He's quiet for a moment before he pushes back until he's seated normally because maybe the lack of eye contact or earnest stares being pointed in his direction may help abate his nerves. He's certainly hoping it will offer him the same regard. ]
Hypothetically, whether or not you believe feelings should be there, they are. I think that in that situation you have to look toward yourself. It's up to you to decide if you feel anything in return and pinpoint why you're unsure in the first place? Is it a lack of experience that leaves you unconfident or is it you honestly feeling little to nothing in return?
[ France has a hard time not being partial to Italy, who he has always kept a soft spot for even when they weren't politically aligned. Germany made him happy, point blank. He doesn't want to be the one putting the notion of the man not reciprocating emotions toward his brother. Again. ]
Love is a very difficult emotion to navigate, especially among our kind. It shouldn't shame you that you may ...hypothetically, be uncomfortable right now when trying to figure things out Germany.
[ Was that what he was feeling? Shame? Anxiety? He really didn't know what to call it, taking in a shaky breath as he searched for what to say. How was he supposed to answer those questions without completely relaying the truth? Or maybe it would be better that way, he wasn't ashamed that it had happened but he was definitely ashamed of how it ended.
He shrugged, albeit in defeat. He was already here, he was already talking. Even if he was still staring at the ceiling, if France chanced a look at him he would have seen those gears working overtime. ]
It's a question of whether it's real or whether...
[ The words were stuck in his throat, things felt real enough even if it had all been influenced by the lunar cycle. ]
...it was out of convenience.
[ He dropped the hypothetical questions, even he could feel that the other man had doubt over the circumstances. There wasn't any point in hiding behind vague questions and answers. ]
[ Germany has at least stopped phrasing it as hypothetical. He gives his colleague a sidelong glance, trying to read whatever he could from his profile. Not much, beyond the struggle. Quietly sighing to himself, France considers a few different approaches. In the end, though, directness wins out. ]
Okay, that sounds worse than I thought. You'll have to forgive me later but I need to know what was said. You do not have to go into full detail. Why are you thinking these emotions are possibly out of convenience?
[ From his expression, there's a possibility he overheard the 'details' anyway.. ]
[ He shook his head, finally sitting up straight so that he could look the other nation in the eye. This was difficult enough, perhaps eye contact would make it worse, but if felt like the thing to do. ]
I'm not talking about the emotions being out of convenience, I'm talking about...
[ Hnnn, how was he supposed to put this without giving details? ]
...I'm talking about what happened before he said it.
[ Germany, that's not an answer and he full well knew it, a very long pause as he closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath before murmuring what France was trying to find out in the first place. ]
...I love you.
[ His face was on fire again, the blond reaching up to tug on the collar of his sweater again. This was ridiculous. ]
[ Part of him is wondering if Germany is going to eventually just migrate into his sweater. He wouldn't be surprised, but he wouldn't let him hide away for long. Because life is cruel, Germany. The part of him that is very invested in the discussion is...fascinated. And horrified.
Like an out of body experience. It wasn't really a thing for nations to harbor this much anxiety with relationships. At least ones that slept with France -- so maybe that isn't saying much. His brow raises and he turns in his seat, looking at him full-on. ]
You were intimate. Honestly, Germany, there is no shame in sharing a bed with someone. You must care about them if you are putting yourself through so much stress.
[ Yes. A jab on himself. You're welcome. ]
Breathe, because I'd hate for you to hyperventilate and miss what I have to say here. I understand why you might have an issue with the timing. You hear about love confessions in movies and literature being this sweeping gesture and... that is not always how it goes, or how it should go.
[ That's not to say he doesn't fawn over a good romance. Oh God no. France will cry to a good romcom. He shrugs and clasps his hands, leaning in toward Germany a bit. Get out of your sweater burrito. ]
Life is full of poor timing though. It's okay. Perhaps you felt cornered because you were ah...preoccupied when you first heard those words and couldn't properly process them. That's okay, too.
[ He couldn't help that irritated click of his tongue, his hand coming up to pull back through his hair. He didn't care if it was mussed at this point, it's not like he was trying to impress anyone. ]
I'm not expecting it to be like a romance novel or anything, why does everyone assume that's the case?
[ Even as he said it, he knew that it wasn't true. He had held this on a pedestal for so long, he'd always assumed that if it ever happened it would be out of love and not forced by environmental factors. Or you know, not at all. He didn't even really know how to put it into words, how to make what he was feeling more evident.
He couldn't though, resigning himself to being shit with feelings for the rest of his life. Or at least that's how it felt at the moment, his hands coming up to cover his face before even trying to speak. ]
...I'm not sure that our friendship can compare to some of the rest of you in terms of length but it feels like it's been forever, I can't imagine things without him around. What if this...
[ Hands came back up to his hair, ruffling it as he let out a sound of pure frustration. ]
...just never mind, it doesn't matter how long I think about it; it still doesn't make sense.
[ The irony of Germany confiding in France of all people over Italy isn't lost on him -- but there's a twinge when the blond goes on about the length of their friendship. Part of him is saddened he never quite recovered from the blow. The rest of him is selfishly content in the man being oblivious of what he'd done.
Leaving him emotionally stunted though wasn't an easy pill. France's hand goes to rest lightly on his shoulder, squeezing gently. ]
Okay. I will let go of that comparison if it makes you feel better. You can't tell me that you even had a passing thought it'd happen like it did, though.
[ Understatement of the century, and France knows it. ]
Let me ask you this: Do you want your relationship to change between the two of you? Do you feel like it needs to?
[ His face scrunches at Germany's deteriorating state. Abandoning the shoulder for the man's wrist, urging him silently to stop before he made himself go bald. ]
Did you feel as if something was lacking between you two before this happened?
Why would I have thought about something like this?? In passing or in depth?
[ Did he even understand the question? He let his hand be stopped easily enough, swallowing just a little as he looked up to make eye contact with the other man. ]
No, I...
[ He what? He had thought about it, hadn't he? He'd thought about it a lot since the night of the party, during the night of the party...
However he tried to look at it, it wasn't really the how it happened but why? A breath hitched in his throat as he tried to push it all out of his mind. ]
I don't want anything to change, I never did. He might be irresponsible and a little lazy but he's more than that? And he deserves more than this.
[ There was a half-hearted gesture to himself. Ah, the overwhelming insecurity. Far more heartfelt than he meant for it to be, cheeks burning as his gaze dropped back down to the floor. Now that he thought more on it, had they ever really just been friends? ]
[ That's a fair question, enough so that France shrugs it off with a slight smile. France, who is very creative as far as idle erotic daydreams probably wouldn't have even gone this far. It's not even important, really...
What is important is how the other man is so slow to open up, but he offers just enough. France shakes his head and shifts to take a seat on the coffee table, a hand patting the German's knee affectionately. ]
That's one of the more sensible things I've heard you say, Germany. Well, as far as not changing the bond you two share. I've always thought you were quite sweet to him.
[ The insecurity, however, will not do. ]
You're a good man! I understand that you're not comfortable expressing yourself openly but that doesn't lessen your value as a partner. [ France's hand lingers for a moment longer before he pulls back to grab the edge of the coffee table instead. ] Personally, I'd love to have someone as loyal as you are, even if it's just in friendship. So, don't be so hard on yourself.
[ What are labels between nations? It's a difficult, messy thing. ]
[ He needed to think over that one for a moment, brow knitting slightly before he shook his head. ]
No, not more than I would be with anyone else! He's just as frustrating as the rest of you...
[ He knew that was a lie, but he was trying. ]
He's the one that stuck around when he didn't need to, I gave him the opportunity to run away or fight me or whatever it was that he should have been doing and here we are...
[ There was the ruffle of his hair again. ]
...stubborn little...
[ The click of his tongue as he let out a frustrated grunt. ]
How do I make this better, that's what I need to know. I called him an idiot and told him not to say stupid things, how is that being loyal? And how is that supposed to make anything I say or do of any value?
[ In other words, he actually felt bad. He really wasn't sure how he was supposed to reconcile this. He didn't want things to change, but as it stood now he couldn't even bring himself to look him in the eye and speak to him directly. ]
[ There is a flicker of impatience in how he huffs at Germany's denial and backhanded criticism of the nations en masse -- though, he's just as likely to share it. The thing that saves Germany from being scolded on his evaluation of their Italian counterpart is that he knows it isn't coming from a bad place. It may be confusion and a healthy amount of frustration -- sure, but not it's not bad.
He waits until the end, groaning in sympathy (is it sympathy? probably) at the conclusion of their 'romantic' evening. Honestly, he'd heard snippets of their fight even before he'd pressed his ear against the wall in morbid curiosity (eavesdropping was even worse than voyeurism, let's be real) that night. ]
Germany, I've been your partner now for decades and through the years I have watched you truly flourish and grow into a truly admirable nation. You have always had a very level head on your shoulders.
[ The blond leans forward, resting on a knee to look at him, but not before a hand flicks toward Germany's rather ruffled appearance. Not so level-headed right now. ]
My main criticism in regard to how we differ -- and where those frustrations you experience lay -- is that there has always been a disconnect between your brilliant mind and your heart. We may not be human but we certainly feel. I hinted on this at the festival, along with pursuing him. Perhaps I was wrong in even putting it out there that there needed to be intent behind your relationship. My only saving grace is that it was vague enough that you didn't catch on.
Honestly, I cannot fault you for being confused or overwhelmed by the timing. [ A shrug punctuates a very genuine sentiment and he leans back, taking a moment to think. ] Apologize for reacting so brashly, for one!
Ill-timed or not, he's always worn his heart on his sleeve. [ It's part of the reason why they balance each other out but you'd think by now the pair would have rubbed off on one another. Well, as far as demeanor. He sighs. ] If it's difficult to do it face to face, perhaps you should script it out. Use what you are good at to supplement the areas where you are weaker.
[ That was an idea, wasn't it? Writing him a letter? Somehow that seemed like it was something that he could do, but what would he even say... ]
Right, an apology letter, that makes sen--
[ Wait, wait just a second. Had he just...? There was that colour to his face again, this time not out of anger or frustration but absolute mortification. ]
H-HE WAS THE ONE YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT?!
[ There it was again, people assuming that they were that way, that there was something there that he absolutely didn't see. It's was because he was blind, but that was far beyond his grasp right now. If even France thought something like that was going on between them, it was no wonder that other people made the same assumption. ]
[ If even France? This bastard is top at guessing who tops. Please. That goes without saying that anyone that has known Italy and Germany long enough would get some weird, repressed not!couple vibes from them.
But damn, don't yell in caps, bold, and italics, Germany. You might pop a vein. He shushes him quickly, waving his arms around to try and cease the panic before it escalates into meltdown territory. ]
Of course, he was! I mean, I'm not trying to make things weird! [ Clearly, the two of them don't need that help to be successful ] Calm down. We've had enough yelling on this floor lately.
[ France, everyone. Half good advice. Half SHUT UP OH MY GOD. ]
Listen, it's not the end of the world. Write the apology letter. Don't overthink it. Take it from someone that has a decent understanding of relationships barring my own; you two were fine! You are a little slow to accept emotions into your heart but you treat him better than you think. Trust me.
[ Enough yelling? He could have yelled more but he didn't, flopping back against the couch again as he reached up to put his fingers back into his hair again. Yeah, there was no fixing this hair without a shower, not at this point.
Had everyone already heard what had happened and everyone was just too polite to say anything? Or too embarrassed to address it? ]
What if he won't accept it...? We both...we both said a lot of things and I'm not sure how much of it he meant...
[ He had panicked and been scared, but Italy had been angry. ]
[ Hedging bets on embarrassment rather than politeness. This entire apartment building is cursed.
Germany's question makes him stare dumbly for a moment before that impressive blond brow furrows and he allows himself a bit of compassion for his friend. Even if he loved Italy like a brother, France could imagine him being angry as something that only happened when too much had already transgressed to make it right.
But, timing. He takes a drink from his now cold coffee and shrugs politely, but there's a glimmer of understanding. He gets the concern. ]
I think that the best way to find out what was genuine and what was influenced by Sanguis is to be open about it. He's not going to be able to accept an apology if it's never given, Germany, and I know that he's very forgiving. Patient, even.
[ Ahem. ]
He's willingly spent time with me since we were tiny after all! How miserable. [ This is all said for Germany's mental well-being. We all know France thinks that his attention is the best thing since wine and bread. ]
[ And despite all of his inner turmoil, somehow that did manage to put the man at ease. It was stupid, but it made him laugh, unsettling as it started it didn't take long for it to turn into something more genuine. ]
How miserable, indeed...!
[ God, why was that so funny to him right now? Maybe it was because he could really see, right at this moment, how helpful France could be. They worked together, but never in a million years did he think that he would be going to him for something like this. Not work related, not even remotely, but it allowed some truth to leak out as his laughter died down. ]
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Germany's eyes slip toward the ceiling, so he misses the flash of concern in the Frenchman's attention that only deepens into a frown as the man rambles on. Inwardly, he's thinking that this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Ultimately, he isn't surprised that Italy would be the one to confess. He'd always been the more openly affectionate between the two in their unlikely union.
He's quiet for a moment before he pushes back until he's seated normally because maybe the lack of eye contact or earnest stares being pointed in his direction may help abate his nerves. He's certainly hoping it will offer him the same regard. ]
Hypothetically, whether or not you believe feelings should be there, they are. I think that in that situation you have to look toward yourself. It's up to you to decide if you feel anything in return and pinpoint why you're unsure in the first place? Is it a lack of experience that leaves you unconfident or is it you honestly feeling little to nothing in return?
[ France has a hard time not being partial to Italy, who he has always kept a soft spot for even when they weren't politically aligned. Germany made him happy, point blank. He doesn't want to be the one putting the notion of the man not reciprocating emotions toward his brother. Again. ]
Love is a very difficult emotion to navigate, especially among our kind. It shouldn't shame you that you may ...hypothetically, be uncomfortable right now when trying to figure things out Germany.
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He shrugged, albeit in defeat. He was already here, he was already talking. Even if he was still staring at the ceiling, if France chanced a look at him he would have seen those gears working overtime. ]
It's a question of whether it's real or whether...
[ The words were stuck in his throat, things felt real enough even if it had all been influenced by the lunar cycle. ]
...it was out of convenience.
[ He dropped the hypothetical questions, even he could feel that the other man had doubt over the circumstances. There wasn't any point in hiding behind vague questions and answers. ]
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Okay, that sounds worse than I thought. You'll have to forgive me later but I need to know what was said. You do not have to go into full detail. Why are you thinking these emotions are possibly out of convenience?
[ From his expression, there's a possibility he overheard the 'details' anyway.. ]
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I'm not talking about the emotions being out of convenience, I'm talking about...
[ Hnnn, how was he supposed to put this without giving details? ]
...I'm talking about what happened before he said it.
[ Germany, that's not an answer and he full well knew it, a very long pause as he closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath before murmuring what France was trying to find out in the first place. ]
...I love you.
[ His face was on fire again, the blond reaching up to tug on the collar of his sweater again. This was ridiculous. ]
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Like an out of body experience. It wasn't really a thing for nations to harbor this much anxiety with relationships. At least ones that slept with France -- so maybe that isn't saying much. His brow raises and he turns in his seat, looking at him full-on. ]
You were intimate. Honestly, Germany, there is no shame in sharing a bed with someone. You must care about them if you are putting yourself through so much stress.
[ Yes. A jab on himself. You're welcome. ]
Breathe, because I'd hate for you to hyperventilate and miss what I have to say here. I understand why you might have an issue with the timing. You hear about love confessions in movies and literature being this sweeping gesture and... that is not always how it goes, or how it should go.
[ That's not to say he doesn't fawn over a good romance. Oh God no. France will cry to a good romcom. He shrugs and clasps his hands, leaning in toward Germany a bit. Get out of your sweater burrito. ]
Life is full of poor timing though. It's okay. Perhaps you felt cornered because you were ah...preoccupied when you first heard those words and couldn't properly process them. That's okay, too.
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I'm not expecting it to be like a romance novel or anything, why does everyone assume that's the case?
[ Even as he said it, he knew that it wasn't true. He had held this on a pedestal for so long, he'd always assumed that if it ever happened it would be out of love and not forced by environmental factors. Or you know, not at all. He didn't even really know how to put it into words, how to make what he was feeling more evident.
He couldn't though, resigning himself to being shit with feelings for the rest of his life. Or at least that's how it felt at the moment, his hands coming up to cover his face before even trying to speak. ]
...I'm not sure that our friendship can compare to some of the rest of you in terms of length but it feels like it's been forever, I can't imagine things without him around. What if this...
[ Hands came back up to his hair, ruffling it as he let out a sound of pure frustration. ]
...just never mind, it doesn't matter how long I think about it; it still doesn't make sense.
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Leaving him emotionally stunted though wasn't an easy pill. France's hand goes to rest lightly on his shoulder, squeezing gently. ]
Okay. I will let go of that comparison if it makes you feel better. You can't tell me that you even had a passing thought it'd happen like it did, though.
[ Understatement of the century, and France knows it. ]
Let me ask you this: Do you want your relationship to change between the two of you? Do you feel like it needs to?
[ His face scrunches at Germany's deteriorating state. Abandoning the shoulder for the man's wrist, urging him silently to stop before he made himself go bald. ]
Did you feel as if something was lacking between you two before this happened?
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[ Did he even understand the question? He let his hand be stopped easily enough, swallowing just a little as he looked up to make eye contact with the other man. ]
No, I...
[ He what? He had thought about it, hadn't he? He'd thought about it a lot since the night of the party, during the night of the party...
However he tried to look at it, it wasn't really the how it happened but why? A breath hitched in his throat as he tried to push it all out of his mind. ]
I don't want anything to change, I never did. He might be irresponsible and a little lazy but he's more than that? And he deserves more than this.
[ There was a half-hearted gesture to himself. Ah, the overwhelming insecurity. Far more heartfelt than he meant for it to be, cheeks burning as his gaze dropped back down to the floor. Now that he thought more on it, had they ever really just been friends? ]
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What is important is how the other man is so slow to open up, but he offers just enough. France shakes his head and shifts to take a seat on the coffee table, a hand patting the German's knee affectionately. ]
That's one of the more sensible things I've heard you say, Germany. Well, as far as not changing the bond you two share. I've always thought you were quite sweet to him.
[ The insecurity, however, will not do. ]
You're a good man! I understand that you're not comfortable expressing yourself openly but that doesn't lessen your value as a partner. [ France's hand lingers for a moment longer before he pulls back to grab the edge of the coffee table instead. ] Personally, I'd love to have someone as loyal as you are, even if it's just in friendship. So, don't be so hard on yourself.
[ What are labels between nations? It's a difficult, messy thing. ]
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[ He needed to think over that one for a moment, brow knitting slightly before he shook his head. ]
No, not more than I would be with anyone else! He's just as frustrating as the rest of you...
[ He knew that was a lie, but he was trying. ]
He's the one that stuck around when he didn't need to, I gave him the opportunity to run away or fight me or whatever it was that he should have been doing and here we are...
[ There was the ruffle of his hair again. ]
...stubborn little...
[ The click of his tongue as he let out a frustrated grunt. ]
How do I make this better, that's what I need to know. I called him an idiot and told him not to say stupid things, how is that being loyal? And how is that supposed to make anything I say or do of any value?
[ In other words, he actually felt bad. He really wasn't sure how he was supposed to reconcile this. He didn't want things to change, but as it stood now he couldn't even bring himself to look him in the eye and speak to him directly. ]
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He waits until the end, groaning in sympathy (is it sympathy? probably) at the conclusion of their 'romantic' evening. Honestly, he'd heard snippets of their fight even before he'd pressed his ear against the wall in morbid curiosity (eavesdropping was even worse than voyeurism, let's be real) that night. ]
Germany, I've been your partner now for decades and through the years I have watched you truly flourish and grow into a truly admirable nation. You have always had a very level head on your shoulders.
[ The blond leans forward, resting on a knee to look at him, but not before a hand flicks toward Germany's rather ruffled appearance. Not so level-headed right now. ]
My main criticism in regard to how we differ -- and where those frustrations you experience lay -- is that there has always been a disconnect between your brilliant mind and your heart. We may not be human but we certainly feel. I hinted on this at the festival, along with pursuing him. Perhaps I was wrong in even putting it out there that there needed to be intent behind your relationship. My only saving grace is that it was vague enough that you didn't catch on.
Honestly, I cannot fault you for being confused or overwhelmed by the timing. [ A shrug punctuates a very genuine sentiment and he leans back, taking a moment to think. ] Apologize for reacting so brashly, for one!
Ill-timed or not, he's always worn his heart on his sleeve. [ It's part of the reason why they balance each other out but you'd think by now the pair would have rubbed off on one another. Well, as far as demeanor. He sighs. ] If it's difficult to do it face to face, perhaps you should script it out. Use what you are good at to supplement the areas where you are weaker.
no subject
Right, an apology letter, that makes sen--
[ Wait, wait just a second. Had he just...? There was that colour to his face again, this time not out of anger or frustration but absolute mortification. ]
H-HE WAS THE ONE YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT?!
[ There it was again, people assuming that they were that way, that there was something there that he absolutely didn't see. It's was because he was blind, but that was far beyond his grasp right now. If even France thought something like that was going on between them, it was no wonder that other people made the same assumption. ]
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But damn, don't yell in caps, bold, and italics, Germany. You might pop a vein. He shushes him quickly, waving his arms around to try and cease the panic before it escalates into meltdown territory. ]
Of course, he was! I mean, I'm not trying to make things weird! [ Clearly, the two of them don't need that help to be successful ] Calm down. We've had enough yelling on this floor lately.
[ France, everyone. Half good advice. Half SHUT UP OH MY GOD. ]
Listen, it's not the end of the world. Write the apology letter. Don't overthink it. Take it from someone that has a decent understanding of relationships barring my own; you two were fine! You are a little slow to accept emotions into your heart but you treat him better than you think. Trust me.
no subject
Had everyone already heard what had happened and everyone was just too polite to say anything? Or too embarrassed to address it? ]
What if he won't accept it...? We both...we both said a lot of things and I'm not sure how much of it he meant...
[ He had panicked and been scared, but Italy had been angry. ]
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Germany's question makes him stare dumbly for a moment before that impressive blond brow furrows and he allows himself a bit of compassion for his friend. Even if he loved Italy like a brother, France could imagine him being angry as something that only happened when too much had already transgressed to make it right.
But, timing. He takes a drink from his now cold coffee and shrugs politely, but there's a glimmer of understanding. He gets the concern. ]
I think that the best way to find out what was genuine and what was influenced by Sanguis is to be open about it. He's not going to be able to accept an apology if it's never given, Germany, and I know that he's very forgiving. Patient, even.
[ Ahem. ]
He's willingly spent time with me since we were tiny after all! How miserable. [ This is all said for Germany's mental well-being. We all know France thinks that his attention is the best thing since wine and bread. ]
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How miserable, indeed...!
[ God, why was that so funny to him right now? Maybe it was because he could really see, right at this moment, how helpful France could be. They worked together, but never in a million years did he think that he would be going to him for something like this. Not work related, not even remotely, but it allowed some truth to leak out as his laughter died down. ]
...you do have your moments, though.