I do not own Hetalia.
Senior year had begun, and she felt no different. Everything was the same; the same desks, blackboards, horrible lunches, annoying people. Everything. She wasn't sure what the point was anymore, but, of course, she just trudged on anyways. After all, it was only one more year; one more year and she would be free. No more high school, no more frustration, no more irritating teenagers who cared of nothing-
"Dude, don't stare at her."
Speaking of irritating.
The idiots would not shut up.
"Do you think I should go for it with her? She looks easy enough to ask out."
The dark haired girl's eye twitched.
She was going to fucking maim someone soon. If it wasn't for the stupid biology class going on at the moment, she wouldn't still be in her seat listening to them.
"Probably not, dude. I mean, seriously, do you want to be skinned alive? She's got the bod, but doesn't Michelle have a boyfriend already?"
Lovina Vargas stared out at the cloudless sky from the window next to her class desk, teeth gritting in irritation as the group of rowdy boys behind her carried on with their obnoxiously loud conversation. Couldn't they see that other people were trying to focus? Honestly, she was sure no one gave jack shit about their love lives. She knew she didn't.
"I swear, I would ask her out right away if she wore a mini-skirt to school. Have you seen her legs?"
Lovina slammed her hands on the table with a loud 'bang', whipping around and giving the group behind her a scalding glare of pure fury. The boys sat frozen in place, eyes wide in surprise and fear as the other students in class halted in their work.
"Shut. Up." The italian girl growled out, eyes narrowing with every word. She felt a trickle of smug satisfaction when one of the bastardos squirmed under her gaze and gulped audibly.
"Lovina," Roderich Edelstein, the school's music teacher filling in for the day, sighed and shook his head slowly, "Sit down, please."
Lovina rolled her eyes and obeyed, but not before flipping the bird at the three boys and huffing a bit.
She placed her head on her desk and went back to gazing at the clear blue sky, sigh quietly to herself as Edelstein went back to the lesson.
The end of the day couldn't come soon enough.
"The fuck do you mean this is it," Francois snarled into his phone, staring out his car windshield at the big, yellow painted house with large picture frame windows in front of them, "Merde, how the fuck is this your house, Odure?"
"Language!"
"Va chier, Oliver."
Luciano smirked and chucked at his friend's words, turning to look down the street from his passenger window. Nothing special. Just an empty col-de-sac with boring houses and a boring atmosphere.
Oliver, the overly excited man-child, was bouncing in his seat with excitement behind him. Allen, who had the unfortunate fate of being seated next to him was aggressively scowling, his earbuds stuffed into his ears. Kuro just flipped through a graphic novel (and considering Kuro's taste in literature, Luciano assumed it was very graphic, indeed) his face set in a bored expression.
It had been a long drive here to this house - the house of Francois' cousin, who had offered up his place to the three men as a temporary place of rest until they all found their own apartments. They were all understandably bored (Oliver had begged five times already to play car games using british tv trivia) and Luciano itched to get out of this damn car and find somewhere else to spend his time.
The Italian man grinned to himself, raking a hand through his dark brown hair, his magenta eyes flicking around the street. Maybe he could ditch and find someone fun to spend his precious time with tonight. It was a new town. So many bellas who he had yet to meet.
"How is it you work as a fucking guidance counselor and your house is ten times bigger than my previous one?" Francois grumbled into his phone, pausing and listening to the reply before rolling his eyes. "Oui. Oui! We'll be careful with your damn throw-pillows, Francis; just tell me where the goddamn spare key is."
"Can we get out?" Oliver bounced in his seat even more than before, eyes alit with excitement as Francois just glared at him.
"Oh, just let the fucking idiot out already, Frenchie!" Allen growled, "He's irritating enough without all the bouncing."
"I swear, I'm getting a butterschotching swear jar once we get settled!" Oliver glared, which, on Oliver, looked more like a rabbit attempting to look angry rather than something actually threatening.
After a moment the grouchy Frenchman muttered a quick 'cul' into the phone, before hanging up and scowling. He nodded to Oliver, despite the fact that the Englishman was already opening the car door to race towards the house.
"Goddammit, Oliver!" Francois yelled after him.
Luciano full out laughed, and Kuro just chuckled a bit before the four of them got out of the vehicle.
"Aw, I think it's rather cute, Amico," the Italian man clapped his blond friend on the shoulder, "Oliver seems happy, doesn't he?"
He snickered a bit when Francois scowled at him and Allen smirked as he stuffed his hands into his bomber jacket.
"Oh, fuck off." The blond scoffed and promptly set off towards the house, crossing his arms in annoyance.
Allen shrugged, grinning at the other two men as he followed after.
"He seems a bit on edge," Kuro commented, swiftly closing his manga with a 'snap'.
"I'm sure he'll lighten up when he sees his cousin," Luciano replied.
Kuro's crimson eyes shone with amusement and the two stood there for a moment, before bursting out in laughter.
They ignored Francois' loud declaration of French insults in the distance.
Lovina shrugged off her old, frankly too goddamn heavy backpack and dropped it onto her bedroom floor. She closed her eyes warily as she walked towards her closet, shedding her sweater and jeans in order to change into her restaurant uniform: a simple black button up shirt and skirt.
The restaurant had been doing well in the past few months, just like it had been in the years since it's opening. The Piccoli Angeli Del Cielo was a friendly, warm environment for adults and children alike, with real authentic Italian cuisine that was enough to keep you coming back again and again. Her nonno made sure of that, since he cooked and ran everything himself with the help of his employees.
Lovina didn't mind working there most of the time, especially if she was able to help in the kitchen. As long as the people who came in kept their complaints to themselves and bought a whole shit-ton of food, she was okay. Hopefully that would be the case tonight.
The dark haired girl snapped out of her thoughts as her phone rang shrilly through the silence in her room. She needed to fix the ring tone so it was less loud and utterly obnoxious. Heaving a sigh, Lovina grabbed it off of the nightstand and placed it to her ear.
"Hello?" She asked, holding the cell in place with her shoulder as she buttoned her shirt.
"Are you working tonight, and can we come hide out there until curfew?" A soft voice came from the speaker, and Lovina snorted a bit.
"Hide out?"
There was something that sounded like shuffling that came from the other end, before a crisp English accent poured from the phone.
"What Madeline means, is that we mean to just hang about whilst you work. Like a pair of bloody slackers. Is it okay?" Alice replied, "I'll even take out my snake bites, so as not to 'scare customers'."
Lovina snickered at the light sarcasm laced in the last statement. She could faintly hear the light laughter of Madeline Williams in the background.
"Sure," the Italian girl responded, rolling her eyes in amusement, "Nonno will be fine with it. But, you better not start a fucking food fight again. Do you know how long it took me to clean that booth?"
The sight of a food splattered table flashed in her mind's eye and Lovina shook her head with a grin. It took a goddamn good two days to get the pasta out of her hair.
Alice snorted back a laugh. "Sorry, Love. How do you think I felt? I had pasta sauce stained on my favorite jumper! But, yeah, cross our hearts and all, we won't 'cause trouble'." Maddie muttered a 'it wasn't my fault!' in the background.
A knock at her door made Lovina turn around, uniform on and assembled. She covered her cellphone with her hand before yelling, "Come in!"
The door opened a bit, before a head full of dark chestnut curls popped into sight. Her grandfather grinned at the sight of her and Lovina removed her hand from her phone with a snort.
"Speaking of which, say hello," Lovina spoke into the cell. She mouthed to her grandfather 'Alice and Maddie', and he responded with a knowing nod.
"Hi Mr. Vargas!" Maddie called.
"Don't worry, we're not converting your granddaughter to the dark side with our punk, trouble-maker personas, we promise." Alice's smirk could be heard through the speaker.
"Hello Signorinas," He responded, a big, warm, booming laugh erupting from his mouth as he smiled, "And how are you today?"
"Oh, we're top," Alice said, "We'll be in for some tea at 7:00. That alright?"
Only Alice would ask for tea in an Italian restaurant.
"And lasagna!" Maddie added in.
Roma Vargas laughed again, "Of course! You're welcome anytime, you know that!"
"Just don't spray the floor with food!" Lovina said pointedly.
"That wasn't my fault!" Maddie cried.
"Alright, alright, I'll talk to you guys later," Lovina looked to Roma and he winked at her before motioning to the door and heading out to the restaurant downstairs, "Work calls."
"Good luck, Love. Don't beat the shit out of anyone until we get there to watch."
Lovina scoffed a laugh, "Shut up. I'll see you at seven."
There was a bout of giggles on the other end before the line went dead and the Italian girl tied her apron to her waist as she made her way downstairs to her workplace below.
Luciano gazed unimpressed at the large, brightly lit restaurant sign in front of him.
He had seen so many fake, utterly disappointing 'Italian' restaurants since moving to america that it became, unfortunately, the norm. Unless he himself was cooking, there was seldom few times in which he had real food from his country - everything tasted like a fake, unimpressive wannabe of the food he had grown up with, and while he'd learned to live with it, he wasn't exactly fond of going to these kinds of places.
He looked bitterly at the establishment's windows, sighing heavily before walking towards the door.
Well, it was either this place or that greasy burger joint down the street, and since he'd ditched his fellow friends back at the house to go find something interesting, he might as well try out what this little town had to offer. And there was no way he was going to torture his stomach by the eating deep fried crap at the fast food place. That was Allen's thing.
Inside, surprisingly enough, wasn't as tacky as he'd predicted it to be. The place was filled with tables and booths of a dark burgundy wood, wine-red table cloths draped over the centers, each with a quaint little vase of daisies settled on top. Music flowed softly from a small speaker by the front, and even though the place wasn't that full (Luciano assumed because it was only half-past six), the people and atmosphere was lively and warm.
He chose a booth near the back, sliding in his seat gracefully as he looked around the room.
"Welcome. I am your server for the night, Hercules." Someone next to him stated, his voice low, deadpanned and drawly. "Would you like anything to start off with?"
Luciano turned his head to look at the most stoic face he'd ever seen on a teenager. The boy had shaggy brown hair that hung down to his chin, two curls that seem the be connected together emerging from the back of his head; His green eyes were dull in feeling, but the color was vivid enough for them to look cat-like in appearance. On his hips he wore a red apron and in his hand he held a laminated menu.
"Caio, Hercules," he winked, taking the offered menu. "Do you have any antipasto to start, Amico?"
Hercules opened his mouth and muttered a quick selection of appetizers, blinking lazily at the Italian man. Luciano almost laughed, but quickly ordered and sent the boy on his way with a pat on the back. The boy was alright, but god, he needed to lighten up a bit. The only thing about the boy that seemed in the least bit cheery was the odd, kitty shaped shirt patch he had ironed on his button up.
The dark haired male looked around the restaurant once more, taking in the eating people and the surprisingly pleasant smell wafting from the kitchen. A black blur caught the corner of his eye, and he turned without so much as a thought. He was greeted with the sight of the back of a young woman who stood cleaning up tables ten feet away.
The man's eyes glinted with mischief and he smirked silently to himself.
Well, this could be fun.