Hetalia England X Reader

Chapter 3

I wake up and see the guys passed out around me.

Italy holding my legs on his lap, me on England's chest with his arm around me, Germany leaning on England's shoulder and America on the floor.

He must've fallen......or got pushed.

I try to move out of the grip of both countries but neither of them would let go.

I look at England's watch and see that it is 7:30. Probably time for dinner. Maybe I can make something.

I gently pick up Italy's hands and put them at his side. Then I unwrap England's arm from around my shoulder and kiss his hand.

I make my way to the kitchen hoping and praying that I won't fall, which is more than likely to happen to me.

Unfamiliar with the kitchen, I look around aimlessly for a pot and pasta.

I fill the pot with water and wait for it to boil. In the meantime, I go to my room and grab two vases with red roses in each.

One of the perks to my room is that there are a bunch of flowers that always make you so calmed and relaxed.

I walk back into the kitchen and put the roses down equally but with a space in between for just me in England.

I knew that the guys would understand....or at least America and Germany. Italy never likes to be pushed out of the fun, nor miss his favorite food.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the water bubble. I grab the box and pour in the pasta.

I put the spoon in the pot and start carefully stirring.

Its sort of calming actually. The hot water warming my skin with every touch...

My daze was disturbed by a yawn. I looked at the couch and heard someone say, "pasta" in a tired way. Italy.

I put the spoon down and quickly run to the living room.

"Please don't be up. Please." I say under my breath.

I sit next to the Italian and his eyes are closed.

Huh? Maybe he wasn't up. He then speaks.

"I smell pasta." He says with his eyes closed.

"N-n-no you don't. This is a dream. Now go back to sleep." I say the last part quicker.

He returns to sleep and I go back to the oven.

I sigh in relief. That could've turned out bad. I'll have to apologize to Italy later.

The pasta was done and I put butter in it.

Knowing me, I had to taste test it. I won't even try to deny it anymore.

I dim the lights, I know its cliche but I'm 14, that's all I really know. (No offense to anyone)

As if on cue, all the boys wake up. Italy sniffs around and then flies to my side.

"Pasta!!?" Italy sings.

I feel so bad now. Gosh! Someone PLEASE make this easier for me.

"Buddy. I zink zhey vant to ve "alone". Germany says.

Italy's face gets confused to sad and than mad.

"You made pasta and you didn't think I'd want any!!"

I was holding back laughter. He's so cute when he's mad but I still felt bad.

Italy lunged toward me but America caught him in the air.