Finally, the loud, obnoxious alarm went off. No, not the normal alarm clock. Romano, screaming at the tops of his lungs.
"Bastard! Make me lunch!" He ordered in his adorable, yet strict Italian accent. The Spaniard rose up, rubbing the back of his neck and letting
out a good, long yawn, right before getting hit in the face with a pillow.
"Mph!" Feathers dotted the chocolate locks on the older man's head, and he groaned, ruffling his hair to rid of the down. Once
de-feathered, he threw his legs over the edge of the old, worn out mattress. Antonio opened his deep, olive green eyes and stared around
his normal room. His eyes finally focused on the angry Italian standing in front of him. Romano huffed, his face bright red.
"You idiot! You should've woken up a while ago and made me my food! Dammnit! I had to wait almost forever!" Romano growled, taking
the pillow he was holding, and flogging Antonio with it once again. He fell back onto the mattress with a mouthful of feathers, letting out a sigh
of annoyance.
"Okay, okay, Romano. I will go make you your lunch. Just let me take a quick shower, okay? Por favor?" He peeked up at the younger
man with pleading eyes. The other puffed his cheeks, crossing his arms and nodding. Antonio smiled widely and clapped his hands together
once, "Wonderful! Gracias, Roma!"
Romano rolled his eyes and tossed the small pillow over and onto the bed, purposely on Antonio, "Okay, but don't take forever, bastard."
And with that, Romano left. Antonio brought his knees up to his chest and sprung them forward, flinging himself off the bed. He smirked and
stretched out his muscles, turning and heading to the bathroom. He stripped out of his tomato print boxers and white undershirt, reaching
into the shower and turning on the cool water.
Sighing in content, Antonio smiled a bit as the warm water dripped down across his tanned skin, causing a glistening affect. He shivered a
bit as the water went a little cold, and he fixed it to warm again. Grabbing the body wash, he began to spread the lather across his chest,
singing out in his happy and smooth Spanish, "Olé, Olé! Soy el Jefe al fin y al cabo! Protegeré todo lo que me importa. ¿Me dejas que te
anime? ¿Me dejas? ¿Eh, me dejas? Fusosososo, fusososososo, fusosososo!"
He was interrupted by Romano screaming, "Stop singing, dannazione!" Antonio burst into laughter, washing off the soap from his torso
and legs, turning off the water after. He reached out of the shower curtain, snatching the purple towel with the turtles quickly and pulling it
into the small space with him. Draping it over his head, the Spaniard began to rub the cloth on his soaked hair, taking the other matching
towel and wrapping it around his hips.
Antonio walked back into his room and removed the towels, laying them out on the bed and retrieving a loose, short sleeved white shirt,
some obviously old, worn out yet comfortable jeans, not to mention the tomato print boxers! He sighed and pulled on all the clothing, walking
out to the kitchen. Romano was standing there, looking somewhat perfect. He had on a brown, short sleeved shirt with black shorts, his
chestnut hair combed over with that addicting little curl sticking out still. Antonio pursed his lips and gulped, rubbing his arm gently.
"Oi, Romano. I'm going to go out and pick some tomatoes~! You can come join me after!" The easy-going Spaniard purred and waved to
the Italian, who flicked him off, "Like hell I would." He sneered. Antonio forced a sad smile before gating out the backdoor into the tomato
garden.