*gasp!* Another one-shot from me?!
Oui! These things are fun to write. ^_^
and RomaBel is teh cuteses.
Sei Bellissima
Belgium was baking in the kitchen again. Romano could hear her moving about and gathering up ingredients for whatever she was going to make. He then began to watch her from the other room as he leaned against the back of the couch with his hand supporting his chin. There she was, humming a little tune that was playing on the radio, gliding along to the music as she stirred some sort of batter.
Belgium looked pretty, but of course, she always did. Romano gave a quiet little huff as he settled back on the sofa. Why'd she have to be so pretty? It would make things easier for him, he thought, if she wasn't... No. That wasn't true. She wasn't just pretty. She was clever, sweet, opinionated... and spirited; very much so. And he admittedly loved that about her.
That spirit had showed when she was first brought into Spain's house. He had been a little bambino then, but even then Romano had admired her. She had befriended him quickly, he remembered, and they both spent pleasant afternoons planning silly little pranks on Spain for when he got home. He would always take the blame, of course, even when she scolded him for it. He wouldn't see Belgium get into trouble.
And now here they were, older, and still in the same situation. Romano still had conflicting emotions for the lady, and as far as he knew, Spain still held her affections. It was one of those few instances that he could honestly say he wished he was more like Spain. Perhaps if he had Spain's charming and carefree nature, Belgium would notice him more and not see him as the little boy she used to play with.
"Lovino!"
He jumped almost a foot out of the sofa. The sound of Belgium giggling could be heard behind him and he tried not to show his embarrassment.
"What?" he muttered.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm... ah..." After a quick perusal around the sitting room, his eyes landed on a book on the coffee table.
"I was reading," he answered, picking up the book.
"Oh? You were reading a book on cake design?"
Romano frowned. Sure enough, the book he had picked up was simply a book on different cakes and their intricate designs. It had to have been Belgium's.
"S-Sure..." he mumbled. "It's boring, though."
She did her best to suppress an amused laugh.
"Did you need something?" He asked abruptly. She was beginning to get too close to him and it made him uncomfortable.
"I wanted to ask if you wanted to come sit with me in the kitchen while I wait for the cookies to rise!"
He hesitated.
"Please, Lovi?" she urged, batting those big, green eyes of hers.
Romano felt his face grow hot. He didn't let many people call him by his personal name, and he only let Belgium call him by his personal nickname.
"Fine," he muttered.
The radio in the kitchen had switched to some older tunes by the time the cookies were out of the oven and cooling on a cookie sheet. As Belgium babbled on and on about such and such things, or about so and so, he could detect a bit of the music playing in the background; it seemed to be a French song. Suddenly, Belgium gasped.
"Oh, I love this song!" she exclaimed. She shuffled around the island counter and held her hand out to him.
"Come on!"
He just stared at her.
"What?"
"Dance with me!" she grinned.
Romano's face remained stoic, but inside, his stomach was doing flips.
"Are you crazy?" he scoffed.
"Oh, don't be like that Lovi! Come on, please?"
Slowly exhaling through his nose, he slid off of the barstool and dragged his feet up to her, as if this was the most arduous and annoying request he'd ever been asked. Of course, he was really just a bundle of nerves inside. He'd make sure they didn't get too close. The last thing he wanted was for her to see what kind of affect her presence had on him.
They began dancing, swaying back and forth in time to the music. The sound of Edith Piaf's voice continued to sing in the background and Belgium smiled at him. He tried not to keep eye contact.
Her waist is so tiny! I could wrap my whole arm around her and it wouldn't be too much of a problem! Holy crapola, does she smell nice!
"You're a very good dancer, Sir," she said with a smirk.
He could practically feel his face growing red.
"G-grazie," he muttered, falling back into speaking his native tongue. "You... you're not too bad yourself."
She smiled, and despite his planned attempts to not get too close, she ended up shifting closer to him and soon they were dancing cheek to cheek. He could feel her soft hair against the side of his face and the smell of her perfume was almost overwhelming. The dancing slowed a pace and both remained silent, still dancing even after the song had ended and the radio had switched to the weather forecast.
He was about to speak, trying to find a way to voice what he was feeling at the moment, when suddenly Belgium began to softly sing the words to the song they had just danced to.
Quand il me prend dans ses bras
Il me parle tout bas
Je vois la vie en rose
Il me dit des mots d'amour
Des mots de tous les jours
Et ça me fait quelque chose
Il est entré dans mon coeur
Une part de bonheur
Dont je connais la cause
C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie
Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie
Et dès que je l'aperçois
Alors je sens en moi
Mon coeur qui bat
Romano found himself closing his eyes as he listened. He didn't know much French, but he could catch a couple of the words. He wrapped his arm tighter around her waist and brought their hands that they held together up to rest on his his chest. By this time, the dancing was nothing more than a mere shuffling, and Belgium sighed. She pulled away a little bit so that she could look him in the eye.
He smiled. "Sei bellissima, Emma," he said.
This time, her face began reddening slightly and it looked like she was about to say something. However, she never got the chance to speak, for at that moment, he decided to finally make a move and kiss her.
Her arm tightened around his shoulders and she kissed him right back.
Translation for the song:
When he takes me in his arms,
He whispers softly to me,
I see life in rosy hues.
He gives me words of love,
Everyday words
And it does something to me.
He's come into my heart,
A share of happiness
Which I know the reason for.
He is for me and I am for him for life,
He has told me, has sworn to it for life.
And as soon as I glimpse him,
I can feel
my beating heart.
(La Vie En Rose sung by Edith Piaf)