I'm too hipster *cough* too busy with homework *cough* to have written a Valentine's Day story, so this is a fem!RomanoxSpain day AFTER Valentine's Day story. It's extremely cheesy, which I how I know people will like it. Enjoy!

Lovina rolled her dark brown eyes as her younger brother gave his girlfriend yet another kiss goodbye. She lived one goddamn mile away, did he need to make such a big deal about her leaving? In the driveway, Leisl's older brother Gilbert honked his horn impatiently, and at this point even the girl herself looked slightly irritated by Feliciano's antics.

"Hurry up Leisl!" Gilbert yelled, his voice sounding groggy. Lovina almost laughed at this; Gilbert was one of her step-brother Francis' best friends and she knew that those two along with their other best friend, her boss Antonio, had gone out drinking the night before to prey on desperate girls who wanted nothing more than for someone to call them pretty on Valentine's day. Gilbert had to have the worst hangover right then. However, Lovina didn't laugh, because Gilbert- as a German- was a damn potato bastard and nothing about him could amuse her. Her non-amusement had nothing to do with her being single on Valentine's Day.

Nothing.

"Arrivederci!" Feliciano called, jumping up and down as he waved to make sure she could see him as she climbed into her brother's car. Leisl rolled her eyes, but waved back all the same. "Te amo Leisl!"

That was the last straw. When she saw her brother running to give his girlfriend just one more kiss, Lovina knew she couldn't pretend to put up with it anymore. Feliciano could have any girl in the world, and sometimes it seemed like he'd already had most of them. After all, with his sweet, innocent disposition and loving attitude towards just about everyone he met, no girl could resist him. Even Lovina couldn't look him in the eyes and deny her fratellino a thing. Which, by the way, was how he was able to convince her to let Leisl stay the night on Valentine's Day. Great. One more reason to hate this fucking 'holiday.'

If it wasn't already clear, Lovina was none to fond of the hyped up excuse for women to be desperate and men to get laid. Year after year it was the same: Feliciano would come with some girl (or sometimes guy) he claimed to be in love with on his arm, their step-brother Francis would try to get in her pants (the pervert had been giving it 'the old college try' since his mom married her dad when she was seventeen), and the next day she would have to deal with Feli cooing over his date and Francis and company (appropriately nicknamed by all those in town as 'The Bad Touch Trio) hungover and whining to her to nurse them. It also didn't help that she was single every damn year, but every guy around her had some little slut turning tricks for them.

Not that Leisl's a slut, Lovina mentally scolded herself. She hated her brother's girlfriend, but even she had to admire the fact that Leisl was the only girl (again, or guy) ever to say no to Feli. Even if she was a slut, she wasn't a little one. That bitch was buff.

Shaking the unwanted thoughts of her brother's love life, Lovina started up the stairs of their Italian villa-style home to deal with her next task of the day: her other brother's love life. Two flights of stairs and three reluctant strides later, Lovina reached the dreaded door that led to a room she never dared enter alone. Francis' bedroom. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she shoved open the door without bothering to knock and prepared herself for the sight of infinite horrors. Before her, hundreds of nude girls draped themselves over the handsome (also naked) Frenchman that she had to call big brother. They were strewn across the room, all looking way too happy with themselves, filthy, ungodly diseases visibly spreading from the legs that they wouldn't keep fucking closed.

Okay, so maybe that's an exhaggeration.

There were three girls draped across her step-brother, but the tangled sheets were wrapped around their naked bodies protectively, and from what she could judge on first sight Lovina didn't think they carried too many STD's. However, this didn't change the fact that she knew three strange, naked, and in one girl's case, tattooed girls would give her baby brother nightmares for weeks. Sure, he'd probably seen plenty...but Feliciano's complicated, okay?! Noticing that the four continued to sleep peacefully despite her presence, Lovina kicked a foot that hung off the edge of the bed and prayed to fucking God it was Francis's so she wouldn't look like some creeper. His eyes drifted open and she sighed in relief. He smirked seductively at her.

"What do you need mon cher? Vous voulez rejoindre ton grand frère?" he asked, laughing that creepy laugh of his at the end. Lovina simply rolled her eyes. Over the last three years, she had become accustomed to the older boy's advances.

"Not even in my nightmares, bastard," she replied. "I have to go to work, get the damn sluts out of here quickly will you? You know they freak Feli out, and I don't fucking trust you to comfort him after last time." The blonde nodded sleepily.

"Oui," he sighed, laying his head back down and closing his eyes. "I'll have zem out in half an hour." Slightly appeased with this answer, Lovina left him and headed to work, trying to ignore Feli singing about true love and pasta in the kitchen.

Ten minutes later found Lovina unlocking the front door of the cafe that she and Francis' friend Antonio Carriedo worked at together. It was some quaint little Spanish place with a Spanish name she never bothered to remember that Antonio's family owned. There were rarely customers, no workers besides herself and Antonio, and almost every day there she was forced to spend with at least two members of the Bad Touch Trio, but oddly enough, working there was one of the few things she never complained about. Well, that is, unless Antonio was around. She couldn't let him think she actually liked it there.

As she walked in, she dropped the keys onto one of the tables and began taking her coat off, preparing to begin her usual morning routine, when something caught her eye that was definitely not part of her routine.

At the back of the cafe, laying on his back on the sticky counter that stank of stale coffee, was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo- messy, stinky, and in a very, very deep sleep. His soft, tousled locks were stuck to his forehead by dried sweat, one of his shoes was mysteriously missing, his vest lay completely unbuttoned and the first six buttons of the shirt he wore underneath had been undone as well. But there was a smile on his face as he slept and Lovina couldn't help but notice how cu- STUPID he looked. It was obvious he had come and crashed on the counter last night instead of going home with some girl like he usually did. The sad thing was, instead of wondering what had brought him to sleep in a dingy cafe as opposed to the fucking mansion he and his parents lived in, she was questioning how a guy like him struck out on Valentine's Day.

For the second time that day, Lovina shook her head to push away her thoughts, then rushed over to the counter to check on him. First she was relieved to see that he was breathing, and if his slight snore was anything to judge by, he wasn't unconscious, just sleeping. However, he must've been in a pretty bad state to stumble back to this dump. He's going to have one hell of a hangover when he wakes up, the poor bastard, Lovina mused to herself. Then, being the good friend she was, she proceeded to try to wake him up.

"Wake the fuck up tomato bastard!" she yelled, clapping in front of his face. He didn't stir. "Hellooo, Earth to Antonio, you are sleeping on a fucking counter we haven't cleaned since- since- since God knows when! Wake up!" He still didn't move and she sighed. "I didn't want to do this." Secretly though, what she was about to do, she really wanted to do. Going into the back room of the cafe, she grabbed the bucket they filled with water on those rare occasions when they mopped and filled it with the coldest water their faucet could spare her, then returned to her dozing friend. "One, two-" she dumped the water on him. "Three!" Antonio rocketed into a sitting position, looking around him with alarm.

"What the-" he caught sight of her and his look of worry transformed into a dopy smile. "Oh, hola tomate!"

"Morning bastardo," she muttered, irked by his use of the nickname she only let him get away with calling her. He grabbed his forehead and groaned.

"Dios mio, it's bright in here, no?" he asked. "I think I may still be a little drunk." He chose that moment to stand and test his sea legs. They quickly failed him, causing to sway this way, then that, and eventually fall into Lovina's arms. She barely was able to keep him standing.

"More than a little idiota!" she exclaimed in irritation. "C'mon, we have to get you to the back room. There's a couch back there, you can sleep it off."

"No!" he whined like a little kid, shaking his head. "We might have cuuustomers I have to take caaaare of them!" Lovina rolled her eyes.

"We don't get customers, everyone knows we only have instant coffee," she replied. Antonio had no response to this, other than a thoughtful 'Oh yeah.'

With some struggle, Lovina managed to muster her strength and drag her coworker to the back room and drop him halfway onto the couch. His legs still lay sprawled over the floor and she lifted them up and turned him so he was laying on the couch. She was about to walk out to the front when he sat up, grabbed her, and pulled her onto his lap.

"Don't leeeeave me Lovi!" he pleaded.

"G-get your hands off me bastard!" she shouted, shocked at him.

"Just a little while?" he tried again, his brilliant green eyes widening in the way Feliciano had taught him to beg. Lovina sighed.

"I guess." The Spaniard grinned and cheered slightly. She quickly changed the subject. "Why are you even here, stupid? Why didn't you go to your own house." He tightened his grip around her stomach, trying to hug her but just making her more uncomfortable.

"I had to teeeeell you something Lovi! So I thought I'd come back and find you before your shift ended. But I didn't get here til one in the morning, so I thought I'd just sleep here and tell you in the morning, because it counts if I do it then too," he said, nodding as if to substantiate his reasoning. Lovina rolled her eyes and tried again to get off his lap. She failed.

"What did you have to tell me?" she asked. Antonio thought for a moment, then pouted.

"I don't remember Lovi!" he cried, sounding as if someone had killed his puppy. Or worse, stolen his tomatoes. "It was really important too!" She sighed.

"Great fucking job, idiota," she sneered. Antonio's eyes began to blur and she regretted her insult. She knew he became as sensitive as her fratellino when he was drunk. "Look, stupid, how about you take a nap? When you wake up you'll probably remember what you wanted to tell me." He grinned widely and hugged her tighter.

"You're right Lovi! I should ask you stuff more often, you know, because you're probably pretty smart." She used her best restraint not to chew him out for that 'probably.' He finally allowed her to climb out of his lap and as he lay down she draped her coat over him. He was asleep before he was even completely down. She couldn't help but grin at how peaceful he looked. Realizing how fucking girly that was, Lovina mentally slapped herself and was about to leave when she noticed something crumpled up in the hand he'd had clenched since she found him. Careful not to wake him, she reached down and extracted the whatever-it-was. The whatever-it-was turned out to be a crushed purple flower taped to a wrinkled napkin, which had writing scratched over one side and the telltale ring that showed a beer had once sat on it. Ignoring the beer ring and flower, Lovina began to read.

Mi tomate,

I found this flower while I was walking to the bar with Gilbert and Francis and I picked it up and it reminded me of you because it was pretty. I put it in my pocket to give to you later and now I am at the bar. The girls here aren't very pretty like the flower and they smell kind of like beer. You never smell like beer tomate, but that's probably because you can't drink yet. So I drank a little bit so that I could smell bad like beer too, but it made me think that I should give you the flower right now and I want to write this letter to explain the flower in case I pass out because I do that sometimes when I'm drunk. I'm drunk right now. You probably know that, because you're probably pretty smart. I am running out of room on the napkin now, so my letter is done except for this: Te amo Lovee- no Lovie- Lovina.

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo

There was more scrawled underneath in Spanish, which showed just how drunk he was. After about thirty beers or ten glasses of 'the stronger stuff' Antonio forgot how to speak English. However, Lovina chose to ignore this and barely smothered a smile as she put the note back in his hand.

She couldn't wait until he remembered.

What'd I say? Corny right? But hey, corny is who I am and what I write, get used to it. Please review and share your thoughts with me, it means so much when you do!