Who is this boy?   von AnnelieseEdelstein
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                       Kapitel 1: His name is ... [1/3]
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The teenage boy, with the blond hair, that was tight together by a red ribbon
and the blue eyes, who Mr Austria had brought to this house, carried in his
arms, while the boy had been unconscious was now lying lazy on a couch. His left
leg was on the sofa, while his right one hung down it. His head rested on his
right arm and his left arm was placed over the backrest of the divan.
Italy looked at the boy. It was the middle of the day, but he was sleeping. 
Italy whished he would be able to make a siesta too, but he couldn’t, since he
still had some work to do for Austria. 
Italy found it a bit unfair, that this boy could just lie here and relax all he
wanted, while he himself had to work so hard. 
At the beginning the boy had been very weak, so that it was nearly impossible
for him to get up – not mention to work anything – but now quite a while had
passed and the boy seemed to bit quite fit again.
However, Austria let him sleep all day, or do whatever he wanted, while Italy
had to work so hard. 
When Austria had brought the boy home one day Italy had wondered who he was and
how he’d gotten that badly injured. 
By now he knew it.

“Vee ~” made Italy , as he took away his eyes from the lazy boy and went
back to work. 
But his mind stayed with the boy, of whom by the way he was very unsure if he
liked him or not. 
He seemed quite nice from time to time and sometimes they even seemed a bit
alike, but on the other hand that boy was - to describe it nicely – arrogant!

And how!
Italy had never met anyone before, who was more into and fond of himself than
this guy.
Well, except for Prussia maybe. … But … then … maybe that young country
even topped Prussia.
Italy wasn’t quite sure. 
Maybe they were about the same level. 
But he didn’t even like Prussia. 
He knew him – of course – how could anyone not know that country – but he
seemed to hold some grudge against him, even though Italy had no idea why.
It was true, the boy wasn’t unsightly and he had quite a few talents, that,
Italy had to admit. 
He was a great musician and actor and his cooking’s and especially his
desserts were outstanding – however, his Pasta and Pizza weren’t as good as
Italy’s of course – but alone the fact, that this boy loved Pasta and Pizza
gave him a high plus point with Italy.
Once, when Italy had made Pasta, he even said, that it was his favourite food
and that he should make this more often. 
Italy hadn’t said this, but it had made him really a bit proud. 
And hearing a compliment from a guy like him, who usually just complimented and
boasted about himself, surely has to mean something. 

As the boy had gotten better, Austria, Hungary and the boy himself had told
Italy what was going on and why he had been wounded so badly and been
unconscious. 
It all had to do with France, Bavaria and Russia.

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