Italy and Romano sat in the living room of their shared house in Rome. Their plan was to spend the week before their birthday together so maybe Romano wouldn't be ready to beat Veneziano with a ten-foot stick by the time the party rolled around. The duo usually planned their own birthday party and only invited who they wanted to come. In the end, it never turned out to be very many people but it never really mattered.
"Fratello!" Italy whined slightly, "I'm starting to get hungry!"
"Then get off your ass and start supper you lazy bastard!" Romano hissed.
"Okay!" Italy sprang to his feet, his former attitude gone, as if it had never existed.
Romano grumbled and returned his attention to the television set, they had been watching a soccer game and Romano had really been getting into it. Italy sighed upon reaching the kitchen, knowing his brother wouldn't be able to hear him. He had often been yelled at like that by his own brother. He always thought that's just how Romano was, after all, most people treated him like a useless country, so why should his brother be any different? Veneziano shook these thoughts from his head as he walked over to the stove and quickly busied himself with making dinner for the both of them.
As soon as Italy had finished preparing the meal and setting the table by himself, he called Romano in for dinner, who quickly arrived at the table and waited for Feliciano to sit down so they could say grace. Once that task was out of the way, they both began eating their meal. Feliciano ate rather calmly, in fact, he seemed to play with his food more than actually eat any of it. Romano noticed this and lifted his head slightly, watching Italy for several minutes before deciding to comment.
"Are you actually going to eat any of this or are you just going to sit there and stare at it all night?" Romano asked, curiosity in his voice.
Italy simply shrugged his shoulders and continued to twirl the pasta noodles around his fork, staring at his meal intently as if when he looked away it would vanish right from under his nose. Romano let this go on a while longer before finally standing up and shoving his chair out of the way, walking right up to Feliciano.
"Veneziano you're my own brother you think I can't tell when something is bothering you, damn it?!" Romano practically screamed in Italy's face. But the younger of the duo simply sat there, throwing Lovino off guard. Feliciano usually cowered when anyone yelled at him, especially Romano, so why wasn't he doing so now?
"Answer me, Fratello!" Romano screamed again, taking a small hold of Italy's shirt.
Italy looked up at him, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. "You've never cared about whenever I was upset before, what makes this time different?"
Romano was taken aback by his comment, and the look on his face proved it. "You really think I don't care whenever you get upset? You moron! I'm your brother!"
Italy almost laughed. "You may be my brother, but tell me, why do you insult me the most? Only coming in second after Germany. He's the only person you seem to insult more than me. Do you hate me? Was it something I did? Are you mad that Germany is my best friend and that we always spend time together? Tell me what I'm doing wrong!" Italy was on his feet now, shooting a piercing glare right at Romano.
Lovino stood there in complete shock, letting his hand fall back to his side. It was only moments however before his blood boiled and his anger returned.
"Why do I insult you the most? I don't know what made Grandpa like you more? What is it that makes everyone like you more? Oh! I know! You're better at me than at everything you do! You might as well be considered better at me than breathing at this point! All my life I've heard 'Oh Veneziano is so cute!' or 'Veneziano is so talented! Why can't you draw like him?'" Romano panted, raising a menacing finger to point at his brother, "All my life I've been known as the screw-up and compared to you with everything!"
Veneziano was close to tears at this point. "Fine then! If I'm such a burden to you and your life! I'll just go then!" He sobbed, dashing for the door as fast as he could.
Romano stood there a minute, glaring holes through the door. He stayed there for what felt like hours before looking at the table and flipping it on its side, watching as all the food toppled over and the dishes shattered against the ground. He stood there breathing heavily for a moment before collapsing to the ground sobbing. Letting all his emotions out as he did. Once he had finally composed himself, he walked over to the phone hanging on a nearby wall and picked it up, calling the only person he thought he could.
"Hey, you jerk bastard. I'm staying over at your house for a while. No questions asked." With that, he hung up the phone and went upstairs to get his things.
Feliciano ran as fast as his legs would carry him to the only person he knew would help him, sobbing as he went. He wiped his eyes, walking up to Germany's front door. The Italian swallowed hard before knocking on the door. Barely a minute had passed before Germany opened his door and invited him in, seeing his tear-stained face.
After helping the small Italian calm down, Germany finally decided to ask what he was doing here.
Italy sniffed. "Romano and I got in a fight. A big fight. And I ran away."
Germany sighed. "You may stay here as long as necessary for you two to resolve the issue."
Italy smiled wide at his friend and hugged him.
That night the Italian brother lay asleep, miles away from each other and thinking about the things they had said.
