"Italy?" you called, seeing the bubbly Italian always made you happy, and you could use a little something to brighten up your day. He turned to you, his normally closed eyes open and tearing up. "Italy! What's wrong?" you asked putting a hand on his shoulder, suddenly worried about your friend. Although he looked like he was about to speak, all that he could manage was a slight whimper and the escape of a few tears. Quickly you hugged him, "It's okay, Italy. Want to come to my house and have pasta? Pasta always makes you feel better, right?"

He nodded, a small smile back on his lips, "S-Si."

So you led him to your house, with an arm around his waist to try to comfort him more. Soon he started to brighten up, and Italy put an arm over your shoulders, bringing a light blush to your face. When you got to your home you instructed him to sit while you started. But what you didn't know was that England had been in your house. And what you thought was some old spaghetti sauce from a few nights ago, was actually some peculiar concoction of his. You threw it on the stove top and got out some water to boil.

But there was a loud bubbling noise coming from that pot, so you went to check it out. As soon as you lifted the lid a strange sulfurous smell hit your nose and the substance exploded all over you. You let out a scream as the force of the exploding red liquid forced you backwards. Italy had been coming into the kitchen to see you, and you flew back into him. So now you were lying in Italy's arms, covered in red splatter. "Bella, are you okay?" he asked, using his surprising strength to flip you over on top of him to face him.

"Y-Yeah," you said, a blush creeping up on your face as he hugged you to you, "I don't think that was pasta sauce though. I'm pretty sure England tried to use my kitchen again." You blurted out answers, trying to convince yourself that he didn't know what he was doing, he was as innocent as a child. Right?

Italy nodded, cupping your cheek and wiping the red flecks away with his thumb. "Why don't I help you?" he asked.

"Sure, that sounds great." you said, still trapped in his arms.

He stood you up, giving you another quick squeeze before releasing you. Italy let out a cheery, "Ve!" and you smiled at him.

"There should be everything you need in the fridge or those cabinets. I'm going to go change." you said, off to find something decent and wash your face.

After throwing on a pair of clean skinny jeans and a (f/c) shirt you bounded over to Italy, who was humming happily over a pot of pasta sauce in your kitchen. You went in with a big grin on your face and slung an arm over his shoulders. "That smells great Italy." you said, sticking a finger in the pot to taste it. "I love your pasta."

"Ve, I'm glad, bella." he said. He turned to you, a small blush on his cheeks, confusing you. "You know, you can call me Feliciano or Feli, if you'd like."

You smiled even wider, "Thanks," you tested out the new name dragging a grin to his face as well, "Feli."

When you had added the final in ingredients and strained the spaghetti, the two of you sat down side by side to eat on your couch, as the kitchen was still splattered with whatever England had created. You ate the delicious meal and your (e/c) eyes widened. "Wow, Feli, I think this is the best pasta you've ever made."

"Ve, it's because I had your help." he said with a grin. You set the bowl down on the coffee table, smiling back at him. Then you noticed his beautiful golden eyes were open and staring at you. He cocked his head, "Bella, why're you staring at me?"

You couldn't help yourself. He was so close to you, and his eyes were mesmerizing. "Your eyes are beautiful, Feli." you whispered, entranced.

"Yours are very pretty too." he said.

Biting your lip you asked him something you had always wanted to know. "Feli?"

"Si?"

You couldn't tear yourself away from those golden eyes. "What does your curl do?" you asked innocently.

"Um," he said, a blush painting itself across his cheeks, "I'd rather not say."

You frowned, artfully diving over him and grasping it, "Come on, tell me!"

He gasped, a glazed look coming over his eyes. "Bella," he whispered huskily in your ear, snaking an arm around your waist.

"W-What?" you stammered, stunned by the initiative he was showing.

With his other hand he cupped your face, "You've got some pasta sauce on your face." And with that he hungrily crashed his lips into your own. When you finally got a hold of yourself, you wrapped one arm around his neck, giving the curl a playful tug. He growled and pushed you backwards, down onto the couch. You gasped in the kiss, and he took full advantage darting his tongue out. Quickly you fell into a submissive position, releasing the curl. Eventually the need for air became too much and you two broke apart, him huffing and back to normal on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him lovingly.

"Feli?"

He turned those golden eyes up onto your face and brushed a stray lock of (h/c) out of your face, "Si, bella?"

"Why were you sad earlier?"

Feli laughed, "I was out of pasta!"