Germany X Female Reader (Chapter 1)

           As the light of dawn drew your eyes open, you look at the ceiling. Let’s face it, it was too early to be awake, time changes had always difficult for you, and this was no exception. Pondering of yesterday made you weary. Your first new job had brought you to none other than North Italy! As you roll over you remember the sights and smells of the streets.

                                      ~~~~~~~~~~

     After you had made it to your flight, (and almost missed it) you sat down in the gargantuan airplane.

    “The seats are always the same on these airplanes.” you mutter while putting your rather heavy luggage on the racks above.

    The seats were like always, blue and purple plaid and made a funny noise when you sunk deep into them to relax. The scratchy fabric was never comfortable. Sitting down you scanned the plane, rather uninterested.

    “A large variety of people are on the flight” you thought.

    You watched many people board the airplane. Some wore hats or were bald. Blondes, brunettes, and pretty much every hair color seemed to make their entrance. Babies with their mothers cried or giggled, and men sat and read newspapers. The guy ahead of you definitely smoked, and your nose twisted in response to the rather acidic smell. Luggage’s filled the racks hanging above, and the “smile you to death” flight attends talked cheerfully to anyone who was curious about where they were off to. You played with the bottom of the fold out tables attached to the chair ahead and observed the rules and regulations airplanes always had. The child behind you started to kick your chair. You knew this was going to be a LONG flight.

    The flight had stated to close its massive doors when a young, medium height man stumbled into the plane. It was a miracle he had made the flight. While he tried to calm the angry flight attendants down you took time to observe this strange man. It was obvious that he was speaking Italian, based on his unfamiliar words and overused hand gestures.

    “I guess he’s returning home. I wonder where from…” you questioned.

     Studying the man, you found so many oddities about him. It made you curious and you wanted to know more. Starting from his shoes, which you noticed were brown, nicely polished business shoes.

    “I don’t think those shoes match his personality much” you noticed as he was smiling and talking to the now delighted flight attendants.

    Continuing to cure your curiosity, the man’s pants were also brown but lighter, and stopped just at the right length. He also wore a belt, but it didn’t look like it was doing anything to help his pants and shirt stay in place. His stark white shirt was on a tad crooked preferring his left shoulder. It was supposed to be tucked in ,but it was obvious he missed a few spots or it had come out from over stretching it. You noticed his broad shoulders and how skinny and lightly buff he was.He probably worked out, but maybe he didn’t do it enough, or his diet came into play. Then you noticed the man’s hair. It was almond/chestnut brown, with a red tint. It shimmered and shined when it moved, meaning it was very well groomed. It wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short either, and looked rather dashing on him. He had stray bands covering some of the man’s forehead. But the most peculiar aspect of this man’s hair, or him in general, was the long, thin curl coming from halfway down his hairline, and curled up.

   “I wonder what happens if anyone touches it.” You think to yourself, giggling.

   The man’s eyes matched his hair and were a combination of brown, gold, and hazel, and sparkled lightly with wonder.

   The man quickly stopped talking, for some reason. He turned and looked straight at you! You blushed lightly and look away, knowing he had felt you stare. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see him smile and look around for the now gone flight attendants. They had left to do their work and left the strange Italian standing there. He giggled and found his seat which was a few rows down to the left of your seat. Your seat was situated at a window on the far right side of the plane, toward the back of 2nd class. Your excitement for this ride was over, it seemed.

    A few minutes later, the plane was ready to take off and you sped down the wide runway. By this time it was nearly nightfall, but you knew time would change when you got to your destination. The plane took off with tons of force, and you felt a strong banking to the left as the airplane climbed. Most people settled in for the “night” and laid back. You, however, needed to get adjusted to the time zone of Italy so you stayed awake. With a quick glance you also noted that the Italian had the same plan as you.

   The flight was around six hours, excluding time changes, so you had a lot of time to do...well nothing. You started out strong by reading and listening to music, but soon you felt your eyelids slowly closing. You fought to stay awake, but sleep overtook you.

   A creepy flight attendant was the one to wake you, along with all of the other passengers. That even included the strange Italian.

   “Looks like we were both unsuccessful, my friend” You thought groggily.

   You sat up, rubbing your now aching neck. Not surprising based on the position you had slept in. Yawning you took off your blanket…wait when did you get a blanket?! You grabbed the nearest flight attendant, who also looked quite sleepy.

   “Excuse me, ma’am? When did I acquire this blanket?” you say politely.

   She responded quickly, “Oh well that fellow getting his luggage off of the rack did, he said you could have it, in fact.”

   You looked to where she was pointing, and sure enough, it solved your suspicion, it was none other than the Italian.

   “Thank you” you replied not even paying attention to the women anymore.

   You grabbed your luggage, rushing to catch up to the now leaving Italian. Hopefully you could speak enough Italian to say thank you and give his soft blanket back.

   Turning quickly you swam through the crowd, slowly catching up to the man. You kept him in your sites by using the protruding curl. Finally you caught up to him.

   “Mi scusi signore, grazie per la coperta” you managed to remember. “Good.” You thought.

   You motioned to the blanket and handed it to him.

   The man, who seemed to notice you sucked at Italian, replied in English, “Oh, you don't have to return it, think of it as a souvenir!”

   “This man is so cheery, how can I not smile?” you thought, also surprised by how well he was bilingual.

   Taken aback by this courteous gesture you respond with “thank you, that's very sweet....So what's your name?”

   The two of you now heading toward the big luggage pickup, maneuvered swiftly through the crowd.

   The man suddenly stopped, put his bag down, and saluted saying “Feliciano Vargas at your service!” while smiling with an earnest smile. “I’m also known as Italia Veneziano, or just Italy! “ he said with his adorable Italian accent.

   Now you stopped. There was no way on your first visit to Italy, you met THE Italy. You knew quite a bit from stories of the personifications of countries, but you never thought you would meet one! Rumors say they live until their country dies along with them, make crucial decisions for the country and much more, but almost no one gets to meet them.

   He saw your distress and said, “Are you alright?”

   You snapped back to reality quickly and looked at Feliciano and nodded. “I-I never thought I wou-would meet a-a country!” you managed to sputter.

   He just laughed and put an arm around your shoulder. “Germany always says I need to stop talking to women I just meet and get back to training, but you're so funny!” he said between laughs. “I’m just like a normal person silly, don't think of me as anything more.”

   He started looking for his bag and you for yours. Once both of you pulled them off the line, you looked at each other again.

   “Well, better get going,” he said, “Germany is wa-“ he got cut off.

   “ITALY WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING COME HERE!” shouted a voice with a thick German accent.

   You looked at Feliciano who was now terrified, he gave you a quick look and said, “Sorry I really have to go, goodbye Manoscritto,” as he turned and ran off.

   You saw him join parties with someone. The man was tall, had his hair slicked back, and wore army green clothing with a black tank top underneath. Army boots went up to his mid calf, and that was all you could see from the distance you were standing. Sadly. You could tell he was very handsome, and you already felt attracted toward this man you would never see again. You also would never forget Feliciano for his kindness.

   Lugging your bag to a taxi, you paid the driver to take you to the apartment that would accommodate you. Here it seemed to be a little past mid-day, so your eyes had to adjust to the different pitches. Slowly, your vision unfolded to the wonders of Italy.

   Your eyes widened at the sight, it was too much to take in at once. The first thing you noticed was the brittle, salty tang of freshly baked Italian bread. Or was that pasta? You shrugged and continued. Turning in a circle, even the airport was beautiful. The fully glass paned building glimmered into the fading afternoon light. Cars picking up their loved ones lined the drive, as well as taxis ready to make a quick buck off of people with no ride. Foreigners also past the airport to and fro in sparkling colors, making others jealous of their get-up. The people ranged in looks and shapes and mostly talked in fluent and fast Italian, that frankly, you could not keep up with. The buildings around the airport were painted a variety of bright, beautiful pastel colors. Far away you could see the ocean, but its warm breeze can travel far and splashed into your wonderstruck face. A fountain somewhere near made a trickling noise, but you were too busy looking elsewhere acknowledge the soft falling. You also heard a train in the distance, remembering that European countries have plenty of public transportation. You made a mental note to ride one of those fast trains while you were staying. To your left, the sun slowly moved across the sky, making everything in its rays dance in its divine light. You also could hear...what was that? You popped out of your “dream”  and realized it was your angry taxi driver getting impatient, honking his horn at you. Swiftly you apologized, getting into the plain white automobile and took off. You looked behind you just in time to see the airport become a speck in the distance.

   You couldn't look at your window well enough to see all of the sites around the small town. One museum, two grocery stores, and more than ten bike riders later, you gave up trying to look. Your hands tangled in your lap as you thought.

   “Was that guy yelling at Feliciano another country? He was saying before that a Germany character didn't like him talking to strangers, Let alone he cut off saying that Germany was waiting. Plus the guy yelling across the room had a German accent.” You pondered as you felt the soft grey seats of the cab.

   You finally came to a decision, you had just seen another country, Germany.

   Again, as you were deep in thought, the taxi driver became angry due to the fact that you had arrived at least ten minutes ago to your apartment complex. Apologizing for the second time you got out and the man took off muttering Italian under his breath.

   You looked at your new apartment.  Of course, this being your first job, you hadn't had much money to buy a luxury apartment. No, instead you acquired a small  apartment surrounded by others. It also wasn't in the fanciest part of town either. It looked like all of the buildings here, was painted a bright pastel. Yours happened to be orange, and was two floors, but cramped looking. You went closer for inspection. You first noticed the  trim around the windows and base of the apartment. You were guessing it was supposed to white, but it discolored with age  and was peeling off. As you looked at the place,  pieces of the orange paint were also peeling.

   “I’ll have to fix that sometime” you think.

   The windows were dirty and full of cobwebs, indicating that you had a LOT of cleaning to do. No one was out of their homes, but their bright lights reflected down to where you were standing. The grass outside was tall and overgrown, and needed some serious attention. A dog barked somewhere in the distance.

   You decided to go inside, it was starting to get dark, and you hadn't eaten all day.  you brought some canned food with you on the trip, knowing you would need to shop.  Your furniture would be arriving in about a week, due to it being shipped over sea. Approaching the rusty hinged, blue door, (that did NOT match the apartment) you set your luggage down and searched through your bag for the key. You found it and examined it. Your apartment address, 362, was engraved on the front. It was gold key with and odd tooth line. Turning it into in the lock, you heard a quick “click” showing that the key had done its job. You slowly opened the door.

   The first thing you saw was....darkness. Finding the light, you switched it on. Even though this apartment was inexpensive, the room was  magnificent.  Three small rooms made the first floor, and two rooms and a bathroom made up the second. The living room was slightly left  from where you stood. The carpeting was cream colored , But was probably white to begin with.  The room was small, but big enough to fit  a couch , a table, and a television.  Its walls were painted an interesting shade of green, that you were immediately fond of.  There was a stain on it though, shaped like a picture that once hung there proudly.  A glistening window let the sun's last rays into the room.  Turning to the right, you saw the dark wood spiraling staircase that went to the next floor.  There was also the doorway that led to the dining room.  The floor was covered in the same wood as the staircase , and it made an echo every time you took a step further.  The walls were a different color, a pale yellow that went with the wood beautifully .Slowly turning there was a giant window that looked towards the street , which was vacant.  This room was smaller than the living room, and connected to the kitchen.  Taking one last look, you moved into the kitchen. You moved over to inspect its cabinets. They ran overhead of the sink and lined the room, along with the lower cabinets below. They also matched the wood flooring in the dining room and now the kitchen. The handles where sliver and  you made a funny face into one.  Moving on, you looked  at the surprisingly granite countertops.  It went with the white trim and floor amazingly.  Colors from all of the rooms, including the light pink of the kitchen, reflected in its stare.  The kitchen came with its appliances, including the brushed nickel dishwasher, microwave, and refrigerator. A window hung above the sink looking into the shared backyard with the neighbors.

   “At least that grass is well attend for” you muttered, noticing.

   Finally, you came back around to the living room, which connected to the kitchen  on the far side of the room. Basically, you had just gone in a circle.  You approached the stairs and cautiously went up.

                                      ~MEANWHILE~

   “Awww Germany, stop it, she couldn't have done any harm!” Italy whined, “She was actually very nice, and you would have liked her if you met her!”

   Italy continued talking, but Germany wasn’t listening, he had too much to do to worry about some frivolous girl Italy had met. Besides, Italy always talked like this about a girl he just met, why should she be any different?

   Germany hoisted Italy’s bags into his BMW as Italy had gotten his license taken away due to his erratic driving ,  so he needed to be picked up from the airport. Italy also said he could stay a few days to relax, which sounded like a nice change to him.

   They both entered the car and drove away from the airport.

   Italy, who hated silence started talking of all the fanciful things he saw on his trip.  Germany just concentrated on the road ahead of him while half listening/ watching Italy talk.

   The ride was about a half-an-hour to Italy's house. Once they arrived, they both picked up their bags and made their way to the always open Italian house.  Germany set his bags down in the guest room he stayed in when he visited, while Italy put his in his room upstairs. The house was bigger than most and was far away from the road.  Ivy crawled up the white manors sides. The red roof situated on top sparkled in the dipping sun. Windows shone and were washed to perfection.  He also had his own wine cellar behind the house, that was a smaller version of the mansion.  Trees lined the entrance and colorful flowers hung on the porch.

   The guest room was quite big, at the left sat a king sized bed  and nightstand. A dresser was in the corner.  All of the furniture was cherry wood, and had hand carved designs on each one.  The floor was a darker shade of cherry wood, and the walls were a  medium shade of red.  A private bathroom was to the right through a doorway. The floor and shower were fancily tiled and the countertops were made of an expensive granite. All of the knobs in the room were made of sterling silver, and the sink was no exception.

   Germany washed his face with cool water. He was tired from having his own flight to Italy. He dressed for bed, grabbed his book, and settled down for the evening. The soft sheets to the bed where enticing, and the fancy comforter poofed out when he sat down. He could hear Italy making dinner in the kitchen, but he wouldn't be eating it. He had dinner already, and wasn't hungry. As the sun set below the horizon, he turned his lamp on. After a few minutes though, the darkness got to him, and he started to close his eyes.

                                      ~BACK TO YOU~

   As you got to the top of the stairs,  you enter the door on the right .You assumed this was the guest bedroom It was small and had a closet to the left. You pulled the  closet open, not expecting to see anything unusual. You were correct; it was empty.  The carpet was the same as the living rooms and  you found yourself digging your toes into the plush fabric. The walls were painted and orange that went with the house, and the trim was white. You exit the room and notice to your left of the hallway was a bathroom that the two bedrooms shared and, in fact, the only one in the house. You just peeked in and saw it looked much like the kitchen only it had blue walls. The  walk in shower was at the far end. It was tiled light brown stone. The toilet was next to it and then the sink. The countertop was granite as well, and the cabinets where the same dark wood as the rest of the house and floor. The handles of everything were nickel to match the rest of the appliances. A small closet door was to the left to keep towels and other products in.

   You left the room and continued to the end of the hallway. The master bedrooms door came into view and you opened it slowly.  This room was easily the most beautiful out of all the rooms you had visited. The walls were painted a light cream, and the carpet was a dark blue. Shades covered the windows and you opened them. The windows looked down over the street, as if to keep guard. The white trim made everything fall into place in the medium sized room.  The fan on the ceiling was, again, the dark brown wood. The light was transfixed to it and gave off a pretty glint.  

   You spun in a circle and landed on the plush blue carpet. You couldn't believe this was actually yours! You sat there deep in thought playing with the carpet. It was now dark outside and you knew it was late. Going downstairs to retrieve your bag,  you took one last look at the place.

   You opened your bag, and grabbed a can of pears.

   “What a gourmet dinner.” you thought sarcastically.

   The pears were actually quite good, and you finished them off fast while admiring your surroundings. You set the can and plastic fork a few feet away and made a makeshift bed. Pulling out your blankets, you laid them on the ground, and bunched one up for  pillow. Grabbing another, you looked at it. It was Feliciano's. You decided to look at it closer. It was a chocolate colored microfiber blanket that people use in the dead of winter to warm up after playing in the crisp snow.  It oddly smelled of pasta, herbs and tomatoes, but you dismissed the thought. This is Italy after all. You set the blanket aside , grabbed a towel and went to the bathroom. After playing with the water for a few minutes, you achieved the perfect temperature of a hot shower.

   You stepped out after your long shower and grabbed your towel. The towel dried  you quickly, then you dressed for bed in a oversized t-shirt and pants. Your mint toothpaste tasted sweet and soon enough, you exited the room.

   You laid down in you “bed” and took one last look before attempting sleep. After all, you did take a six hour nap one the way here.  Finding a comfy spot curled underneath Feliciano's blanket, you found rest.

                                         ~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Italian

Mi scusi signore, grazie per la coperta= Excuse me sir, thank you for the blanket

Manoscritto = Ms.