Countryhumans One-shots!

Italy x Romania || Petali di rosa

I know I had a "mystery chapter" to write first, but many things have happened in the meantime and I felt the urge to write this little thingy here. It's not a popular ship, but there's a reason why I dedicated a chapter to these two, right A-Random-Weirdo?

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The gentle Sun rays covered the slumbering garden with a thin veil of light as Nature slowly drifted out of sleep, accompanied by the soft chirps and cries of the early birds. Pink and white roses adorned the emerald blades, greeting the newborn star as they stirred to life. Tiny droplets of dew crossed their stems, skillfully avoiding the pointy thorns until they plunged into the damp ground. Not an alien sound could be heard among the symphony of the wild, as the garden was far away from the noisy frenzy of the city.

Italy loved green and peaceful landscapes and was extremely proud of those under his domain, as he always took good care of them and nurtured the timid flowers until they shew their colorful petals to the open air, ready to free their golden pollen. He took his time to water them properly every day, lay among them - usually whistling or humming a jolly tune, portraying them on an immaculate canvas or breathe in their sweet scent. 

His holiday house was settled in the countryside, in the South of the country, among untainted lands. The air was hot and wet most of the time, but Italy didn't mind as long as he could refresh his tormented lungs after his usual long stays in the city - European Union, whose respectable title had sadly managed to turn him into an obnoxious and pretentious workaholic, wouldn't stop annoying him with continuous meetings; nor would the other countries, always complaining and quarreling about useless and pointless subjects. 

In his little corner of paradise lost among petals and trees, yet so close to the seaside that he could smell the salty scent of the waves mixed to the pungent sweetness of flowers, Italy could finally find his peace. 

However, the rightful owner of the humble abode was nowhere to be seen. Every room of the small house was silent and empty - if not for a snoring bassoon that laid on a huge bed, wrapped in purple bed sheets. 

The bassoon squirmed as the Sun rays illuminated the dark room, finally declaring the beginning of a new day. It turned to the other side as a tuft of blue, yellow and red hair popped out of the soft sheets and a faint, annoyed puff was exhaled. The Sun caressed its sinuous figure, warming the sheets up with its gentle heat.

Suddenly, the white wooden door opened and a young Italian man stood on the door edge, a loving smile adorned his candid lips and tray full of sweets was held in his hands - there was a pale pink rose in the center of the tray, among a brioche sprinkled with icing sugar, four slices of bread, a tiny pot of fresh jam and two cups of cappuccino. He loomed over the bassoon, humming a cheerful melody as he carefully placed the tray on the bedside table.

« La colazione è pronta, amore. »

Italy spoke, sitting on the mattress next to the bassoon and tenderly brushing his fingers on the sheets covering it. He received a mild mumble in response, at which he giggled. He laid across the mattress and slowly pulled the sheets down, revealing the intruder's half-sleeping visage. The other country blinked, adjusting to the sunlight as he let out a wide yawn; a pair of white, pointy canines peeked out from his golden lips - one couldn't tell if he belonged to the vampire race, but the shape of his teeth often fooled poor ignorant citizens who would back away whenever he bared them in anger, threatening to bite them. He groaned and brought a hand to rub his eyes as the boy patiently waited for him to abandon Morpheus's soft embrace.