"Allo, my name is Marian! What's yours?"
At the sound of the unfamiliar female voice, the personification of Southern Italy ceased his brooding to find the source of the lovely voice. Across the grand room, much to his surprise, was a young, tanned skin, brunette girl.
"Una bella ragazza!" he mumbled to himself in surprise. "I didn't think there would be any my age here at this stupid party..." The brunet paused in his thoughts to stare grimly at the man next to him yapping about God knows what, oblivious to the boy's ignorance. "Spain is too uncool."
"Hmm? What's that, Romano?" the Spaniard questioned, looking at his oddly quite companion before following where the boy's gaze led. "Oh, it's Francis's daughter. ¡hol-!"
"Shut up! What do you think you're doing!?" Romano screeched in a low voice, continuing to shove a napkin into the carefree man's mouth.
Managing to remove the boy's hand from his face, the man replied, "Ehh? What are you talking about? I was just saying hola to Seychelles... Ya know, Romano, it's rude to shove napkins into people's faces, especially in public."
Spain continued to grumble to the teen, rubbing his jaw as he sunk into their booth, but said boy paid him no heed, his eyes glued to the petite form of the girl who was unwittingly grabbing his attention.
The island nation stood with perfect posture in her cerulean dress, her back to him, appearing to be chatting with...
"Ugh, Romano? Did you hear anything I said?" the Spaniard scratched his head in confusion at the young Italian who grit his teeth in apparent anger, hands balled up in fists in his lap. Following the frequently stubborn boy's line of sight, the forest green eyed man scrunched his eyes, dumbfounded.
"I don't get it," Antonio thought, resting his chin on his palm in contemplation. "Romano has never showed anger at a lady before. It's quite the opposite actually... But what 's so special about Seychelles?... Wait!" Scooting over in the booth, he smiled triumphantly upon finding the source of Romano's newest sudden annoyance. "It's not the chica; it's-!"
"Damn potato bastard..." Romano unintentionally clarified with a pout.
"¡eh, Seychelles! Ven aquí!"
Appalled, the cranky boy stared at the Spaniard beside him before checking to see if the girl was conscious to the man's shout. Spain, smirking at the sight of his fellow tomato enthusiast's inflamed cheeks, joined his companion in staring at the teen.
Seychelles peered over her shoulder to find a cheerful man waving, beckoning her to walk over. She recognized him as one of France's friends, but was truly perplexed as to why he suddenly wanted to speak to her.
"Come over here!" he proclaimed once more over the delightful music that got lost midst the chatter of the nations attending the small get-together.
The tanned girl smiled in reply, not bothering in raising her voice before turning back around just in time to miss the jolly man get whacked upside the head by the younger man in the booth.
"Excuse me, Ger-err- Ludwig," she apologized with a curtsy to the blond boy nodding his head in understanding as he remarked that he had to "discipline" his "elder brother."
Spinning around, her puffy dress swirling with her, Seychelles paraded towards the booth where the Spaniard sat on the edge of his seat with a frantic looks on his face, rubbing his knee, while the Italian folded his arms, light green eyes boring daggers into the older man.
Holding back her giggles at their antics as she reached the table, she greeted them with an "Allo!"
"Hola, Chica! Why don't you sit down and eat with us?" Antonio offered, struggling to keep his chuckles inside as Romano stared at him in realization.
"That bastard," the Italian thought bitterly as he looked at the empty spot on the edge of the booth beside himself. "He planned this all out."
"Oh, are you sure? I don't want to be a-."
"No-no, it's fine! Besides, Romano and I are always willing to entertain a pretty lady such as yourself."
Said boy rolled his eyes in annoyance as Antonio's gesture caused a blush to erupt on the amber eyed girl's cheeks.
"That reminds me. I don't think you've ever met Romano before, have you?"
"Oh, no, I don't believe I have," Seychelles realized, slight embarrassment evident in her tone, as she slipped into the booth in the most lady-like way she could muster.
"Well, why don't you two get acquainted while I get you some food!"
Before the island nation could even open her mouth to form a response, the Spaniard was gone, off to get her some food, although, her new Italian friend had a hunch that the "bastard" would take longer than what was to be expected.
Turning back to the tanned boy at her table, Seychelles decided it best to start with introductions.
"So you're Romano?" she ensured with a slight tilt of her head that did not go unnoticed by the boy who attempted to fathom how someone's hair could flow so gracefully over one's shoulder. "Je m'appelle S- err, sorry. My name is Seychelles, but you may call me Marian if you prefer."
Romano stared back at her dumbly for a few moments before realizing that she was waiting for him to respond. Widening his eyes, he prayed that his nervousness wouldn't be apparent on his burning cheeks.
"Ah, well, it's a-um pleasure to meet you. I'm Romano, but you can call me Lovino... if you like," he greeted cautiously, hesitant to say anything further lest he make a fool of himself.
Thankfully, she made no indication of finding his behavior odd in any way as she nodded her head in acknowledgment before focusing her attention on the apparently invisible imperfections on her dress since he could find none.
The seconds sauntered by a little too silently for Lovino's taste, as he wrung his fingers under the table in an attempt to calm himself.
"Is something wrong, Lovino?"
Startled by the sudden tare in the fabric of silence that had been sewn around their table, said boy swerved his head up to watch as the girl's eyes glanced worriedly between his own eyes and his tangled fingers shifting awkwardly in his lap.
Certain that his olive complexion could do nothing more to conceal the rush of heat in his face, the Italian cleared his throat.
"Oh, it's nothing! I just have-ah... chorea..." Romano stated, embarrassment evident in his voice as he mumbled the last word in a hushed whisper.
"Oh."
He stared holes into the tablecloth, ashamed to even sneak a quick glance in her direction after her small reply.
"Great," he thought solemnly with a pout. "She must think I'm a total weirdo now, and I made her uncomfortable to boot! Ugh, this is all Spain's fault! Damn that stupid, asshole son of a-!"
"I'm sorry! That was very rude of me!"
Suddenly, his fuming anger stopped short, all previous scenarios of torturing Antonio tossed to the back of his mind carelessly.
"Francis tells me that sometimes I can be too snoopy for my own good..."
His avocado green eyes blinked owlishly as his mind came to a startling conclusion.
"I really don't mean to-ah, forget it! I'm- just-! Forget I said anything! E-excuse me!"
She had no idea how much her words comforted him.
She had no idea how oddly comfortable she now made him feel, inconsistent with the flurry of butterflies that had stormed over him minutes ago.
She had no idea how loved how not lonely he felt.
She had no idea how much he wanted her to stay... by him.
Her sparkling blue dress and effortlessly done-up hair suddenly didn't have the same charm as it did before.
"Wait!"
Shocked by his sudden outburst, she froze before she could even begin to rise from the booth, teary amber eyes trained on her shaking hands.
"Would you like to dance?"
He was just as surprised by his own words as she was.
"What?"
The almost invisible bit of relief in the tanned girl's voice did not go unnoticed to the Italian.
He was sure now...
"Would you like to dance?" he pressed, praying that the attempt of earnestness on his face might coerce her into accepting his invitation.
She was like him.
"Yes."
Without warning, all the other countries around them seemed to disappear, and all that was left was her brightening smile that gleamed more and more as he led her to the middle of the room, his hand calmly enclosing her own.
He wasn't perfect, and neither was she.
Her mind wandered for the few seconds when she was being twirled, recalling how France and England had instructed her to be a proper lady before shifting her attention back to the sweet boy before her who didn't care.
Meanwhile, he ignored the awwing Spain was making near the buffet table, noting to thank him... and punch him in the face later for annoying him in the middle of their happy moment...
Both were afraid to disappoint.
While Seychelles would struggle to regain her composure and run away, Romano would stubbornly blame others and lash out.
They each possessed insecurities, and even though they didn't share the same ones in every aspect, each felt safe and secure with the other nonetheless.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Um, Romano?... What is chorea exactly?"
Too enamored by the innocence in her speech, he simply regarded, "It's why I'm so clumsy."
"Oh... Does Spain have it? I could have sworn I saw him with a black eye a moment ago when you went to the washroom."
"No, dear. He's just an idiot."
A/N:
I'm way too tired to check if the doc manager on this damn site messed this up so sorry if there are any mistakes! I made half of this a year ago and did the interaction between Sey and Romano today even though I still have other work to do...
Anyway, again, I apologize for any mistakes. This also pertains to the bits of languages other than English in this... I know the French is correct because- well, I'm French 2 H. and that phrase was pretty basic. I mostly worried over the title and the "Ven aquí!" part because I know very little Spanish... I also don't know very much Italian, but I'm pretty sure that was alright. All that matter is that you know what I'm trying to say. :)
So to elaborate for anyone still wondering, since most of the time I seem to lose people a little in the meaning behind my writing:
First off, I put a few hints of Seychelles acting very lady-like and not as happy-go-lucky as I think of her as to subtly (perhaps too much) show that she is not being herself because she really wants to please those around her because she is afraid of rejection and being ridiculed as I'm sure everyone is at least one in their life... This reminds me of how in the Gakuen Hetalia game, she was made fun of for her coat of arms.
Second, Romano really does have chorea, which I, unfortunately, don't have time to explain a whole lot... Basically, he is uncomfortable with it since it makes him very clumsy, causing trouble for those around him. Of course, being the stubborn one he is, he blames other- Spain a majority of the time- for his mistakes.
I wish I could go into detail further with the explanation and the story itself, but its 1 AM and I have school tomorrow! So see ya!
Translations:
Un Semplice Stare Insieme: A Simple Get Together (Italian)
Allo: Hello (French)
Una bella ragazza: a beautiful girl (Italian)
hola: hello (Spanish)
Ven aquí: Come here (Spanish)
Je m'appelle: My name is [However, it's literally "I call myself..."] (French)