You couldn't stop yourself from snickering at Germany's attempt at pouting as his bottom lip was jutted out pitifully.
The guilt-trips this man tried to pull on you was too hilarious for words, but in the end, you always forgave or apologized anyways.
"Well, to be completely honest Luddy, you were the one following me around in the middle of the night like some demented stalker-- so, I see no reason as to why that whole situation was to be blamed on me." A smirk played onto your features you felt over-come with success in winning the argu--
"My fault? Now, I know it may seem as if I was the one guilty of, er. . . weird-ness but I assure you, it wasn't my fault in the end. I was merely trying to assure that you made it home safely."
You deadpanned at his come-back as you were left with nothing to say. Him the innocent one? That son of a-- but, well you wouldn't go down like this.
"Ha! And they say Germans have horrible senses of humor! Well, my dear Ludwig, I think you've gone and proved them dead wrong with that statement."
Both of you were merely toying with one another, but somehow in between it all, it slowly morphed into a small, verbal warfare of which one of you had the best excuse.
Germany merely chuckled lightly as he stood from his chair at the end of the kitchen table. He looked down at you with one of his infamous piercing gazes as an equally deadly smirk found his lips.
"Fine, if you want to win this one that badly, be my guest. But, there is one more thing I should inform you about before you declare yourself victorious."
Silence over took the atmosphere as Germany waited for your cocky reply that didn't come. He was up to something and you knew it deep in your gut, but, just what he was up to exactly you didn't know. . .
When he discovered that you wouldn't be talking any time soon, the size of his smirk only increased. " I let you win."
And with that sentence as his finishing blow, he left you alone in the kitchen to dwell on his words in defeat.
A scoff emitted from you as you clenched your fists tightly.
If he thought that he won this so easily, he's horribly mistaken. . .
- - -
There were certain things and precautions you could take to ensure your
You had everything planned out from beginning to end, and you were positive that nothing would fail as long as you stuck to your game plan.
Staring at the list of plans and strategies in front of you, nothing was going to get in your way. Just to be even more sure that nothing-- and I repeat, NOTHING would go wrong, you were sure to put your plan to work on one of the rare days that Germany didn't have the Axis training like clock-work.
"Alright, let plan A commence!"
- - -
With on rough, final tug on the rope it finally sprung free of it's tight knot and loosened around the pole.
"Finally!" You cried out, panting slightly from the tug-of-war that involved you, yourself, and the rope. "Thank God, I thought I would never get that undone."
You wiped at the dripping sweat from your brow as you took a step back to observe your work. Looking down at Germany's backyard there were many different ropes and tattered paper trimmings everywhere. Among the many remains of trimmings and such laid a small, blue gift bow topped off with a shining white bow.
To say that this was the best idea you've ever had would be an understatement as a relieved sigh escaped you.
Germany isn't going to know what hit him after tonight. . .
- - -
"_______! I'm home!" Germany yelled, stepping through the doorway and sliding off his black boots underneath the coat rack. As he closed the front door, he began to grow slightly suspicious as only silence reached his ears. Usually you'd be bounding up to greet him by now, so why weren't you?
One blonde eyebrow raised as his ice-blue eyes scanned his surroundings for anything out of place. Something was very wrong and he just knew it, but he couldn't quiet figure out what it was. . .
One of Germany's famous tired sighs emitted from him as he noticed the back door was open.
She must be outside. . . she probably didn't greet me because she couldn't hear me.
Germany slowly trudged his way through his living room and slowly drew closer towards the back door, hoping he wouldn't come face to face with a horrific scene of some sort. To say he was a bit wary wasn't the case at the moment.
"________, are you-- oh. . . what the?" Germany looked over the backyard with a confused expression as his eyes were met with the sight of his backyard a complete mess!
He walked in between all of the scraps and ropes as he crouched down to pick up the small present. Before he opened it, he shook it gently and groaned as his confusion only grew.
"Why would she go to such lengths of wrapping a box and everything if she wasn't going to put anything inside of it?"
As he sighed again, he decided to take a peek inside of the box anyway. It wouldn't hurt, right?
When he removed the lid from the top of the box he found a small hand-written note inside.
Meet me in the kitchen, sucker.
- - -
"Hey! What's the idea of all this? I mean, sure, I can understand why you would want to distract me for a bit, but did you really have to trash my backyard in the process?"
Germany looked down at you with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. You could only look up at him with a coy smirk as you dabbed your finger on your cheek, scooping up the last trace of caramel pecan icing off. Before he said anything else, you raised your finger to his bottom lip, teasingly smearing the sweet icing across it.
"Shh, just close your eyes and I promise I'll make it all up based on what I have for you."
Trying his best to hide the smirk forming, he nodded as his tongue darted out to lick the icing clean off. Never in your life did you think anything could make food sexy, but that damn, uber-attractive German man before you sure as hell manage to pull it off with ease.
As a deep blush flushed over you from head to toe, you had to quickly shake your head in order to try and set aside those certain thoughts from distracting you. You quickly turned on your heel towards the fridge and opened it, taking the cool German chocolate cake you had finally perfected baking just under an hour ago.
Turning your body and the cake towards him, you smiled down at your work. "Alright, you can look now."
You looked up at him as his eyelids lifted, allowing him to see the cake in your hands.
"______, why did you make me this? It's not a special occasion or anything. . . and wait. . . mein Gott! You're breaking up with me, aren't you?"
A small chuckle rumbled in your throat at his last statement, but you tried to keep a serious face.
"I'm not breaking up with you, I just wanted to make you something to say, thank you."
"Thank you for what?" Germany asked, as he loosened his shoulders.
"Tell you what, after we finish this deliciously awesome cake, I'll tell you, deal?"
As Germany stared down at the cake in your hands, he couldn't help but to agree.
- - -
Both Germany and you finished your last slices of the cake with ease, each of you sighing in tasteful bliss.
"Alright, now that we're finished eating about half of the cake-- which I'll have to run off tomorrow -- tell me what you wanted to say thank you for."
You slowly stood up from the kitchen table and stretched your arms with a tired smile.
"Oh, I almost forgot about that. Thanks for reminding me, but what I really wanted to thank you for was for letting me win."
"Win what?" Germany questioned, quickly following up with a tired yawn.
Another smirk wove into your smile for the ump-tenth time today as you quickly turned your back towards him.
"For letting me win the argument."
Tonight, you truly did find out that the old saying was really truthful in every way.
The quickest way to a man's heart is his stomach.