A/n I do not own Hetalia.
On with the fic!
Italy woke up to a loud ring. He checked the caller id, it was France.
Oh, France! Maybe he'll cheer me up a little.
"Ciao", "Bon jour, Italy! I want to invite you to my Christmas party. Every nation will be there! Are you coming, too?"
"Sure, France. Where is it, though?" "My place at 7, tomorrow. Get really dressed up. I don't want to see anybody in those dreadful uniforms."
"Okay, Ciao." "See you there, bye!"
"I better look for something to wear", he muttered to himself.
France hanged up the phone. A mysterious figure came behind, "Is Italy coming?" Yes", France replied. "Oh, and HRE I'm sorry about the war", he said looking down at the ground guilty. "It's not your fault, we're nations. We have that burden on our shoulders." "Okay."
"I can't wait to see Italy!"
"Not like that, you need a new wardrobe." "What's wrong with this one?" HRE huffed. "Because it's too 900's."
France dragged HRE to the dressing room. (So France could make HRE try everything on, like a doll)