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Romano leaned forward until his forehead was resting against the cold car window, staring at the scenery flying by. All they did was move. Move from one side of Italy to the other; from the south to the north. His brother, the stupid twit, was bouncing happily in the backseat chirping enthusiastic sentences to their Grandfather. It was Romano's fault they were moving once again…
In their old neighborhood Romano had gotten in with a bad crowd. He, knowingly, got involved with an Italian mafia. No, he wasn't too young to be involved in that shit! He was sixteen when he joined; eighteen now! He was a man. As it turned out, Romano was good at what he did. The young Italian had gotten a bounty placed on his head all through Italy.
Which was why they were moving. To Spain.
"I wonder if they have pasta here in Spain~! Ve~!" Feliciano said dreamily, twirling into their new house's front door. Grandpa Rome practically skipped in after the bubbly Italian; Romano hung back. His hands were in his black skinny jean's pockets, his shoulders were slouched. He took a deep breath and stared at the building they were to be living in temporarily until things died down in Italy.
It had a circle driveway that led up to a huge front door. Columns lined the small sidewalk up to the door, holding up an elegant-looking roof to shade the pavement . The house was one level and fairly big. It seemed to have windows on every single wall and was painted a warm crème color.
Romano fixed his backpack on his shoulder, making the butt of a gun hit the small of his back. He had, at least, been able to sneak one of his handguns. He suppressed heaving another dreadful sigh and marched into his new hellhole.
They were at their Grandfather's summer house (why he had it in Spain, Romano would never know), so it was all furnished and decorated. When the two brothers had been younger, they had visited their Grandpa Rome here a couple times. Romano went directly back to his old room, ignoring Grandpa Rome's adoring over Feliciano while Feliciano cooked mountains upon mountains of pasta.
He shut the door and tossed his backpack on his twin sized bed. Good thing he remembered to leave the safety lock on his COLT S.A.A 45. That would have ended badly… Romano yanked open his backpack, pulling out a black scarf. It was fucking cold! He wrapped the scarf around his neck contrasting with his white V-neck tee.
A sudden loud banging on his door made Romano jump out of his skin and almost grab his gun. But his better judgment told him that he wasn't in danger. The door flung open and there stood Feliciano, happiness radiating off of him. That was why Feliciano was so fucking annoying…
"Fratello! Fratello! Grandpa Rome wants you to go share paaaastaaa with the neighbors~!" As Feliciano was shouting this, he was twirling in circles like a ballerina. God, Feliciano was an idiot.
"Fine." Romano grumbled and started to walk out the door.
"Ve~!" Feliciano jumped for joy, taking his brother's hand, and taking off down the hallway to the kitchen. Which then resulted in Romano being literally dragged to the kitchen, his feet dragging on the tile.
"Romano!" Grandpa Rome's voice boomed out. "Take this pasta," He whipped out a huge container filled to the brim with pasta. "To our neighbor!" A huge smile was on the old man's face. Sparkles shone all around his face.
Yep. Romano was going to drown in their happiness. Fuck.
Grumbling some more, Romano snatched the container and hurried back to his room. He quickly emptied his backpack, put the container in there, and put his .45 in his back pants pocket. Then he jogged out the door, flicking his wrist at the two insanely happy Italians in the kitchen in a wave.
"Give it to the neighbors, huh?" Romano's light green eyes looked around… Which neighbor? Glaring angrily at each one of the houses, hoping they would catch on fire, he began his journey. No way in hell he was going to go back to the house in such short time. He would take a nice, long stroll.
Each street he went down seemed to be full of aristocratic houses. Romano made it his mission to try to find the rundown neighborhoods. He'd feel more at home… and it would make this little wonderland of the rich seem real.
It took him a good thirty minutes before he even found the downtown area. Here, half of the street was lined with apartment buildings and the other side of the street was full of shops and restaurants. Romano walked along the apartment building side of the road until he saw it.
A section of apartments were colored red. Tomato red.
Romano went in that section and up the stairs. He felt a little weird just creeping about, but he wanted to get rid of this pasta. It was getting heavy…
The inside of the apartment complex was tan. The doors and walls were tan making Romano almost regret coming in the building. He didn't know what he was looking for as he walked down the hallway of doors. Tan… tan… tan… red… tan… Wait a minute… Romano backed up and stared in awe at the red doorway. It stood out like a red tomato in a field of un-ripened green tomatoes. This was where he was going to leave the pasta!
Heaving the container out of the backpack, he set it down in front of the door, knocked on the door, and then ran down the hall. Romano skidded behind the corner at the end of the hall and peaked around it to watch.
The red door opened and a man stood in the doorway. He tilted his head to the side. "Hola?" The man stuck his brunette head out, taking a step forward and then… tripped over the container.
"Ahh!" He, weirdly gracefully, fell face first on the ground. Somehow the man had managed to curl his body in a way so that he didn't crush the container of pasta.
The corners of Romano's mouth curved up. What a clumsy man…
"Pasta?" The Spanish man had sat down next to the container, regaining his composure quickly, and then acting as though nothing happened. He suddenly looked around the hallway. Intense, piercing green eyes almost caught Romano hiding behind the corner.
"Amigo?" The Spaniard sounded confused, but Romano didn't stay any longer. He bolted down the metal stairs and out of the building.
He was panting heavily as he ran down the street. Those eyes… They were so… brilliant.
Romano mentally slapped himself as he made his way home. Stupid! He was never going back to that tomato bastard!
Next time his brother cooked too much pasta (the next Thursday), Romano took the pasta to the tomato bastard's apartment.
Then the Thursday after that… and the Thursday after that…
A month had passed by when, one Thursday that Romano was delivering his pasta, the tomato bastard was sitting on his windowsill, playing his Spanish guitar.
"Rico tomate, rico tomate!
Muy rico, Uh! Tomate!
Sube el rojo, baja el amarillo toma-toma-tomate!~"
A faint blush spread across Romano's face as he walked into the building. He couldn't believe the tomato bastard was singing about tomatoes. That was what Romano did! Not what this jackass does! God!
Although he did have a nice voice… Stop it! Aug!
Romano angrily pounded on the door, leaving the pasta where it normally was. Like usual, he ran down the stairs but instead of running down the street, he was curious to see if the man was still sitting on his windowsill.
"Hey, atiende,por qué
has salido a la calle tú tan fresco."
Something hit the top of Romano's head as he walked out of the building. It bounced and he saw a red flash of color fall past his eyes. Without a thought, he dove to catch whatever it was. Just barely, he caught it before it hit the ground.
It was a tomato.
He snapped his head up to glare at the Spaniard, but all thoughts of malice and hate melted away as his eyes caught sight of those intense green ones. Even from him being on the second level, those eyes seemed to pierce right through Romano's heart.
What the fuck?!
"Tomato bastard!" Romano yelled at him before nibbling on the tomato. It was delicious! A hearty laugh came from the Spaniard before he went back to singing.
"Y eso es lo que quiero, besos!"
A/N: Uhhh… this was supposed to be a oneshot, but now it's going to be MORE THAN THAT. Really… and I have so many other things planned out. But I recently fell in love with Spain and I felt the urgent need to write a SpainxRomano story. This really was supposed to be a oneshot… a LONG oneshot. But I'm too tired to write more and I want to see if I get feedback to continue!
Review!
Songs:
Spain's Tomato Song:
http://www. youtube .com/ watch?v=A2_V7zWdAgw& feature=related
Spain's Besos:
http:// .com/ watch?v=mohCwYerMT4&playnext_from=TL&videos=mkVMMEygdqk