A/N: I kind of made France's hair blonde here, it seemed to match. I'm thinking of switching between blonde hair and brown hair for my stories about Fem!France, it depends on the story though. My descriptions of what the characters here are wearing are based of a picture I saw on zerochan, a super cute picture, I may add. ;) Prussia's just wearing her normal clothes here, by the way.
Sorry if anyone's OOC. :) Rated T for Romano's cuuuursing!
Disclaimer: I forgot to put a disclaimer in some of my other stories, so here is one: I don't own Hetalia, but I wish I did. :(
~.~.~.~.~
Spain had come running to France for help about something. It was obvious Prussia would be there, she was always at France's, usually stealing her food.
Isabel was now sitting on Francine's sofa, her hair wasn't tied up, instead it lay on her back messily, a red flower resting behind her ear. She was wearing light brown shorts and probably one of Lovino's shirts, cropped hastily, showing off her flat stomach.
"You were harvesting your tomatoes today, oui?" France asked.
"Si, it's a nice sunny day!" she grinned, "Where is Maria?" She glanced around.
"Here!" A muffled voice called out from the kitchen, and Prussia's head popped out from the doorway, she was chewing something, probably one of France's tarts.
"Okay, everyone's here, what's wrong, Espagne?" Francine looked at her friend through the mirror, where she was carefully braiding part of her long blonde hair, tying it with a red-white-and-blue ribbon and letting the rest fall down her back.
"Yeah, you seem worried." Maria took a seat in one of France's armchairs, crossing her legs.
"It's about Romano. It's his birthday today and I still don't know what to get him!"
Francine spun around to face the Spaniard, "Why are you coming to us? You know him more than we do." Her short blue dress was riding up her legs, so she stood up to smoothen it out, tightening the brown belt slightly.
"I know, but you guys are the ones who know how I feel about him!" A light blush rose to her tanned cheeks as she spoke.
"Then why don't you just tell him that? I'm sure that is a good birthday present as any! It's obvious that he likes you too." Maria questioned, running a hand through her wild platinum blonde hair.
"I can't do that! What if you're wrong? I don't think I could handle that, it's already becoming so hard to be around him, it would be even harder if he didn't." She was panicking now.
France had a mischievous smile on her face now. "Prusse and I could find out."
The Prussian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I guess the awesomeness that is me could help you."
"Really? You'd do that for me?" Isabel's face brightened.
"But of course. What are friends for?" Francine grinned.
~.~.~.~.~
They didn't waste any time, France pulled Prussia out of her seat and the two ran to Spain's house, where Lovino was.
Francine had told Isabel to get back into the tomato fields and that they would tell her anything they found out.
When they entered Spain's house, Romano was sitting in the living room, flipping through a newspaper, a scowl entered his face when he looked up and saw them. "What the fuck do you two want?"
"Well, we're here to find out if you like Spain," Prussia, the queen of bluntness.
France nudged her in the ribs with a whispered, "What the hell?"
To which she replied with, "I thought that that was what we were trying to find out!" But Francine only sighed hitting her forehead with her palm.
Romano's eyes widened at this and a blush spread across his face, his grip on the newspaper tightening. But he forced his face back into its original scowl. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Yes, we would. So could you tell us?" France grinned as Prussia snatched the paper out of his hand.
"What makes you think that I'm going to fucking tell you?" He made to grab the paper back, but Maria held it high above her head, and she was much taller than he was so he obviously didn't have a chance.
Francine walked over to stand beside Maria, and then reached over, her fingers lightly touching his hair curl.
His face flushed red and he tried to push her away, but Maria held his hands fast. France then tugged slightly at the curl, making him squeak involuntarily, yelping out a "Ch-chigi!"
"Now, tell us!" Prussia demanded.
"N-no fucking way!" He managed to get out of Maria's hold and pushed them both away, running up the stairs and up to his room before they could do anything, slamming the door behind him. And telling by the sharp click! he had locked the door.
France sighed, turning to speak quietly with Prussia, "I don't think we're going to get anything out of him."
"What are we going to tell Spain?"
"We can't tell her anything."
"I have an idea." Maria suddenly said, leaning over to whisper into Francine's ear.
Her eyebrows rose, "Good idea, let's do it!"
~.~.~.~.~
Isabel already had a basketful of ripe tomatoes beside her; she was breathing heavily, luckily, the afternoon sun was already falling from the sky, welcoming the evening.
She decided to rest for a few moments, picking up one of the tomatoes and biting into it, letting the juice cool her off.
She hoped that her friends would find something out; she'd been in love with the Italian for a long time. Sure, he would curse, yell and push her away, but then there were the little things.
Waking her up in the morning with a red face, mumbling "I made you breakfast, Spagna." Whenever she'd accidentally cut herself in the garden, he'd scold her for not wearing any gloves but then he would pull her inside, placing on a band aid and giving her hand a kiss as she has used to do to him when he was younger, this had caused Isabel to blush multiple times and he himself followed suit, then yelling at her to not be so stupid next time. He had a soft side than he only showed to a handful of people, Spain being lucky enough to have seen it more than once.
There were times when Isabel would finally get frustrated with him when he was younger and she would sigh, going up to her bedroom and sitting down. And then after a few moments, he would come into the room and walk up to her, hugging her legs, whispering "I'm sorry." And she would pick him up, wrapping her arms around him saying "It's okay, mi Romano."
Yes, she loved the Italian, probably more than she should.
Just then, her phone rang, she pulled it out, pressing answer, "Hello?"
"Espagne! It's France." A muffled, "And Prussia!" called out from the background.
"Hola! Did you find out anything?" She held her breath, hoping for a good reply.
"About that-", but Francine didn't get to finish her sentence as Maria most probably snatched the phone away, "Spain! We'll tell you when you get home, but don't hurry! Take your time!" There was a few seconds of hushed arguing then they hung up.
Spain sighed, but she took their heed and picked some more ripe tomatoes for half an hour –in which time the sun was already setting and the sky had darkened- before standing up and walking back to the house.
~.~.~.~.~
There was a crash coming from somewhere downstairs, probably the kitchen. Romano jerked upward, and he found himself by the door of his bedroom. That better not be stupid Spagna, he sighed, opening the door and moving towards the staircase, but just as he reached the banister, he heard the back door open and shut and someone whispering "Let's get the hell out before either of them sees us!" And then after a few minutes, the front door opened.
When Lovino reached the end of the staircase, he saw Isabel looking curiously at a table in the middle of the living room. The table was set elegantly with two plates full of pasta, a bottle of wine and a vase with a single rose. He met her gaze, "Did you do this, idiota?"
Spain opened her mouth to reply, but her phone beeped, signaling a message.
It was from France.
Isabel~
I take it you are now looking at the wonderful masterpiece I have created. ;)
You are very much welcome.
Um, sorry, but we didn't find out anything, but now you can ask him yourself! Hehe.
Well? Go on! Tell him you did this for him!
~France and Prussia
The Spaniard sighed, sliding her phone back into her pocket and setting her basket on the kitchen counter. She turned back to Romano, "Uh, si. It's for you, Happy Birthday, Lovi."
Romano raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say complain, instead just walking up to the table and sitting down. "Well, I'm not going to waste perfectly good pasta, so sit down, Spagna."
Isabel blinked, opening her mouth and then closing it again, making her resemble a fish. But she nodded, sitting down.
The two stared at each other for a moment in uncomfortable silence. Spain watched as an odd emotion flickered through Lovino's eyes, she tilted her head, leaning forward slightly so she could try to determine what it was.
At this, Romano frowned, his cheeks turning a slight pink and a scowl making it's way back onto his face, "What are you doing, bastarda?"
"I'm trying to figure you out."
His eyes widened slightly at this, but he looked away, "Well, stop it." His blush turned even darker
"Aww! Lovi looks just like a tomato!" She grinned, leaning over the table, and giving him a little pinch on the cheek.
This made him flush an even deeper red, if possible. He pushed her away and started eating.
Spain grinned, picking up the bottle of wine. French, of course, she rolled her eyes, but she opened it anyway. But instead of pouring it into her glass, she put the bottle to her lips and took a sip, then offering it to the Italian.
He looked at the bottle in disgust, "Why would I drink something you already touched?"
She looked at the bottle then back at him, "Hmm? I'm not sick or anything, Lovi."
He rolled his eyes, snatching the bottle from her and taking a gulp. The words indirect kiss, indirect kiss, indirect kiss rolling around his brain. He tried to restrain the light blush breaking out on his face again, but to no avail.
He sighed, setting down the bottle and finishing his pasta, Isabel finished first, as usual.
When he finished and he grabbed the wine bottle again, pausing for a brief moment to examine the brand, Spain took the opportunity to observe the nation, resting her chin on her intertwined fingers. His eyebrows rising in acknowledgement, his lips quirking slightly, and Isabel briefly wondered what they would taste like or if they were as soft as she imagined, then a bright red blush spread across her tanned cheeks as she realized what she was thinking about.
Romano seemed to notice this looking up, he bit his lip as if he was going to laugh, "Are you… blushing?"
Spain's hands shot to her cheeks, "I-I…" She wasn't normally so nervous, what's wrong with me? She couldn't form a sentence.
The Italian actually cracked a grin, "Are you okay, idiota?"
She looked away, "Y-yes."
This time, he chuckled. "Thank your friends for the pasta."
Her head snapped towards him, "You knew?"
"Obviously. You never drink French wine." He set the bottle back on the table, then leaning over the table, placing a light kiss on her cheek. "But thank you." Spain felt her blush coming back again.
He moved out of his seat and made towards the stairs, a small smile evident on his face for actually making his former mentor blush. His hand was about to touch the banister when he heard Spain go "W-wait."
He turned around, only to be met by Isabel kissing him on the lips. His eyes widened, but after a few moments, his eyes fluttered closed, slipping his hands around her waist, kissing her back. He felt her hands going up to his cheeks, pulling him closer, if that was possible.
When they broke apart, she could see that Romano's face was flushed and she was sure hers was too.
"Te amo, Lovi y feliz cumpleaños," she whispered.
It was a smile this time, "Anch'io ti amo, idiota."
~.~.~.~.~
Outside, Francine and Maria grinned at the couple from one of the windows; they gave each other a high-five and backed away, leaving the two to their privacy.
~.~.~.~.~
A/N: Finished! Yay! Review! I accept good comments and bad ones (don't be too mean, though) just reviewwww. :)
Translations:
Te amo, Lovi y feliz cumpleaños – I love you, Lovi and Happy Birthday.
Anch'io ti amo, idiota – I love you too, idiota.