"U-Um...Ms. (Y/N)?"

(Y/N) paused in her cooking and looked towards the kitchen door, feeling irritation bubble in her chest until she saw who was standing at the door.

It was Italy, and he was fidgeting with his shirt sleeve and biting his lip. Confused, (Y/N) tilted her head, wondering why he was making those motions.

Was he nervous? Or...was he scared...?

God damn her brain!

She signed, Yes? but then remembered that Italy didn't know American Sign Language. Cursing her brain again, she washed her hands again, grabbed a pen, and wrote what she signed.

"Um...is it alright if Fratello, Spain, Germany, Japan, and I come over to your work for lunch later?" he asked timidly. "I heard the food there is really good and you even serve pasta in your restaurant. Ve, if you don't want us to go, we won't complain, I promise."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened. She hadn't been expecting that question at all. From what she heard from Alfred, Italy was childish, was always eating pasta, and was never able to be serious, but Alfred never bought it, for the shorter nation was older than he was and faced much more conflict than he wished to. Still, her husband never spoke fondly of the former Axis nation, and actually sounded annoyed with Italy.

Something that (Y/N) shared full-heartedly.

But still...

She shrugged and signed, but at Italy's confused silence, she mentally slapped herself for getting and wrote down her response.

That's fine, she replied. But I would ask you to not expect the pasta to be to how you make it, for as you know, I'm not familiar with how you cook in Italy, though I may be wrong.

Italy smiled. "Thanks Bella!" Then he walked away, leaving a confused (Y/N) in the kitchen.

She shrugged it off and went back to cooking. Alfred was already setting up the table and placing his own breakfast dishes there, and (Y/N) was finishing things up. After that, she was going to head to work, and this time she would spend all day working in the bath, beauty, and candle section of the shop, so she wouldn't be the ones greeting Italy and his companions when they arrive.

Fuck.

"Darling?" Alfred's voice cut through the silence, startling (Y/N). She was quick to look at her husband, about to scold him for scaring her like that, but with how silent he was and how his voice sounded, he must've been concerned.

"Are you okay?"

(Y/N) nodded. Yes, she responded. Italy was just wondering if he could bring his friends to my restaurant for lunch later.

"Hm," Alfred mused thoughtfully. "I wonder what they're planning. Well, might as well let them enjoy your store, it's the best in town after all."

(Y/N) blushed. It's not the best, she protested.

"Well, it is to me." Alfred then walked over to his wife and placed a quick kiss on her forehead, turning her an even deeper shade of red. When he pulled away, he smiled at her.

"Let's eat before you get to work, shall we?" All (Y/N) could do to respond was nod.

Inside, she was cursing at her husband for making her feel flattered so easily. And for loving it deeply.