Story: Don't Help Me; I Can't Be Fixed, Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
"Come on, Romano~! If we don't hurry, we're gonna be late...!"
"Don't rush me; I'll take as long as I feel like. I don't even understand why I have to go to this... Can't my brother just do all this shit, instead...?"
South Italy was already feeling himself getting irritated at the thought of his brother and this meeting all the same.
It was like they wanted him to act like a nation and do all the responsibilities of one, but none of them ever wanted to treat him as an equal being to that of his brother, so why should he...? It wasn't his fault the mafia had an influence on his mindset, nor was it his fault that couldn't be liked and accepted by even himself. Why even bother trying to act happy when he clearly wasn't, and never would be?
They would look down on him no matter how much he tried to make them like him, because it never worked. So once again, there wasn't even a point in trying to do so, anymore. Not that he could stop from always feeling bitter, downdeep, in the first place...
He may be a supposed nation, but he did have human feelings too, damn it...!
...
"EVERYONE BE QUIET!" Germany had shouted, slamming his hands on the large desk, almost immediately gaining the attention of every nation in the room.
"I have to admit that this actually used to be sort of amusing to me, but it always ends up so damn predictable. Every nation in here... Why can't they ever take serious shit to be serious for a change...? I don't like getting yelled at, but when they do this, that macho potato bastard has to go and yell at everyone. What the hell? Did he just fucking look at me...? I hate him. I hate this... I feel like everyone is looking at me. Damn it..."
He looked somewhat down, not daring to show the people he was sure was watching him and judging him as they always had, that he even cared. If they had noticed the look of stress and agitation on his face as he began scratching at his hand to ever slightly distract himself, they obviously didn't care to say anything, and North Italy, Spain and some of the others were too busy chatting with some of the others to even have noticed if anything was remotely 'wrong' with him, which it most assuredly was not. This was his way to deal with anxiety, and they had no right to intrude into his life and take that away from him, as long as he wasn't hurting anyone else, or staining the carpet or furniture with blood. Not that he cared what they had to say about that, anyway...
The room wasfinally silent, thankfully, but Romano was almost sure, just by glancing at him, that the light blonde haired German had to have struck a cord when he had yelled just then.
"Verdammnt...! Take your seats, all of you! We don't have time to be wasting on this squabble, so hurry it up!"
He jumped. He was at it again! Why hadn't everyone just listened the first time?!
He glared over at Russia who was currently picking on... what the hell was that guy's name again...? Screw it! He didn't care! Russia was seriously an asshole at times, and he was honestly just about to curse the hell out of him if he didn't stop.
Why the hell was he so annoyed today?
He suddenly couldn't help but wonder. Honestly, he was feeling horrible, even for himself...
"Why am feeling this annoyed, today...? Could it possibly be that... so called dream that's causing me to feel this way-?"
Before he could think any further, the doors were suddenly thrown open to which America immediately ran in panting, "Sorry I'm so late, dudes, but you don't need to worry anymore, 'cause the hero is finally here!" he announced, momentarily receiving more stares than he could count. Germany pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was having a splitting migraine.
"There's no such thing as some fucking hero... Whatever..." Romano growled, hoping badly to be able to just get all of this over with extremely shortly."
"I'm not even going to bother asking where the bloody hell you've been all this time, America." England, who'd been quiet, for one, throught out the majority of the enitire meeting dispassionately looked up to America actually rather 'calmly', despite the fact that his patience was certainly running extremely thin at this point.
Germany nodded, sighing "Agreed... We can't waste any more time than we already have, so just take a seat already, America..."
"Great!"
"Thank you! Now can we fucking begin already?!" Romano then mentally demanded, before letting out a teethy sigh.
~ End of Chapter
A/N: I know it's not much, but I hope you got something out of it.