The Beautiful Italian

Spain sat at the table firmly located in the middle of his dining room. He had woken up quite early on that specific morning, and we are talking three a.m. early. This incident was, of course, linked with an event that took place not long before. Yes, just a few months ago, the Spaniard received a young Italy's elder brother, Romano, from a man that followed the name of Austria. Spain, as the not-so-bright, oblivious person he was, went along with the deal. It turned out that the Italian was a bossy snob.

It was difficult to live with the brat at first, but after time, the brunette warmed up to Romano. In particular, it was this very morning that Spain began to realize how much he liked the kid.

The older country gazed at the buffet from his position at the dining table. He then diverted his attention towards the wood that lined the ceiling. Romano was so adorable this morning, Spain thought as he recollected his thoughts of the early hours.

He remembered how he woke up to the shuffling of tiny feet against the wooden floors. Spain had glanced at the clock to his right, just barely making out the 3:11 through the darkness of the hour. The country thought it was a rat at first, but he slowly began to realize that it was the very Italian that he shared his house with. The brunette silently wondered why the child was up at such a deathly hour, so he decided to go check up on him.

Spain dropped his feet to the floor, and trudged on towards the commotion. He entered the hallway where Romano's room could be found; He had knocked on the rather large door four or five times but was met with no answer. Out of curiosity and concern, the Spaniard cracked the door just enough to allow light to soak the young Italian's bed. He peered through the slight entry to find Romano tugging at the covers.

"What are you doing at this ungodly hour, Romano?" Spain had asked.

"Get out, idiota!" the child screamed back.

It hit the older nation like an American that slugs a Canadian with a baseball. He smelt the guilt and embarrassment.

Spain ignored the younger's threat and blankly walked on by him. This, however, did not please the child.

Romano threw his body at the brunette in an almost winning attempt at keeping Spain out of the room.

The taller country took serious blow to the stomach, but he managed to keep moving towards the bed at the right side of the room.

Romano screeched at the older, "Spain, you bastard!"

The other glanced down at the yelping kid, "It is okay, Romanito, it happens to everybody. I used to wet the bed when I was younger. Es la verdad."

"Damn straight."

The moonlight seeping through the window gave away the deep shade of red on the younger's face.

Aww, the little guy just acts tough; he is so cute, the Spanish male couldn't help but think.

So, in the end, Spain helped the Italian strip the bed of the spoiled sheets, and washed them. Unfortunately, Romano left the older to see through to the work while he kicked back to enjoy the rest of the night. The Spaniard, after cleaning the sheets, could not fall asleep after staying up so long, and he ended up reading magazines about Spain's bad economy at the kitchen table.

However, every article he read reminded him of Romano. How the young Italian would torment him like these magazines, but Spain would later find himself flipping the final page to find a beautiful illustration on the back cover. No matter how bossy the Italian acted, he was still beautiful and loving deep down on the inside.