Feliciano Vargas wasn't the brightest one. Never was and probably never would be. Lovino knew this, but when his little brother came into Spain's hotel room to tell him some bit of nation gossip, he couldn't believe the level of idiocy his brother was at.

"Native America was at the meeting today!" Feliciano announced upon entering the room.

Lovino had been munching on a ripe and raw tomato. When his brother entered with this bit of information, he choked on his tomato and coughed repeatedly to be able to breathe again. Tears were clouding his vision by the time he had been able to inhale clearly and so his brother looked like a blue and tan blur with red. "Are you serious, Feliciano?!"

Italy furrowed his brow, concerned for his brother who just had a choking spasm right in front of him. "Ve~. Of course." He perked up quite a bit with what he said next. "It was so cool! She came in and forced America to sit down and let France talk and she and England were married and-"

Lovino grabbed his brother's shoulders roughly and shook him. "You idiot! Spain was at that meeting!"

Feliciano tilted his head, obviously clueless. "So? He's always at the meetings..."

Lovino released his brother, cursing loudly as he retrieved his jacket and slipped his shoes on. "I'm leaving for a bit. Tell that jerk I'll be back. I'm just going for a walk. Don't do anything stupid, idiot, you hear me?" With that, the southern Italian left, slamming the door behind him.

Native America was reading in the hotel cafe, enjoying the quiet and sipping from a cup of coffee. She had finally had time to relax. Before, she was scolding Alfred about needing to be quieter and more humble and to let others speak before him. The whole time she was lecturing him, Alfred had been looking down and turning red, feeling rather ashamed.

The native shook her head and sighed. She thought that Arthur had raised him better. But that was the thing. Arthur had raised him. She had forgiven him a long time ago for leaving her but she imagined that raising the rowdy child on his own would have been difficult. He would have had to divide his attention between both boys and his work. That would have not been easy...

"Georgianna, you idiot!"

A familiar voice snapped Native America out of her thoughts. She looked up and saw Romano, or Lovino Vargas, marching toward her. He looked red as the tomatoes he love to eat so much and she could practically see the steam pouring from his ears. She had no idea what he was so upset about but she chuckled. South Italy always made her laugh. "Lovino! I am glad to see you. It has been a long time!"

"You dumba**!" He said, slamming his hands on the table. "What were you thinking, going to the meeting?! Are you trying to die?"

The smaller nation was taken aback by his harsh language and actions and stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. "What are you talking about? Trying to get killed?"

Lovino rolled his eyes and sat across from her, fingers drumming on the table impatiently. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Spain. I know your relationship. I was there when your history played out. I know what happened. He could kill you."

Native America just chuckled, pleased by her friend's concern. "Lovino, you truly are caring, despite how rude you act." Clearing her throat he shook her head. "No, I was well aware of Antonio's presence at the meeting. I wasn't worried about him hurting me. I'm a nation. Kind of. He can't kill me. Yet... Stop worrying about it Lovino. Please, don't trouble yourself with me."

A waiter came over and placed a coffee in front of Lovino who looked at him curiously before sipping from it. He grunted at the ancient nation. "Whatever, jerk." He ignored Native America's chuckle and looked in his coffee, uninterested in it though. "So where have you been?" He spoke softer this time. His attitude had changed from its typical harsh, rude manor to being softer and quieter. "I missed talking to you. You were the only one who would listen to me complain about jerk face Spain."

Native America smiled softly at her younger friend. It wasn't often that she got to see Lovino calm down, it was much more rare for others to see him this calm. "I was at home. If you missed me, you should have visited."

Lovino looked up at her from his coffee with a look that said it all. "You know I couldn't. I'm risking it coming to see you now."

She sighed, knowing he was right. "Yes, I know. Goodness, why does he have to be pig headed and-"

"A jerk?"

She chuckled again this time not as happily. "Yes, why does he have to be a jerk?"

Suddenly a voice broke their conversation. "Romano?!"

Romano winced and shrunk back in his seat a little. "Speaking of the devil..."

Spain came over to them, seeming angrier than when he lost North America to England. "What are you doing here?! Why are you with the savage?!"

"Because I can be, you jerk." Romano retorted, glaring at his boss. "I'm busy talking to a friend, not a savage."

Antonio looked at Native America with distain and sniffed. "Well I'm sorry to break up this little friend reunion but I need you to come with me, Lovino. Let's go."

"I'd rather stay here." Lovino argued.

Antonio gave Lovino a look that actually frightened the nation but he would never tell anyone. Antonio then left, spinning on his heel.

"He's such an idiot..." Lovino muttered. He looked at his friend and shook his head.

"ROMANO!"

Lovino winced again and put some money on the table to pay for the coffee. "I'll talk to you again." With that he left.

A/N okay, so Spain is a jerk... I know that he is a really happy guy in Hetalia. Don't worry. We'll get to happier Spain. But for right now, he HATES Native America. There is a reason to their hate though. That will hopefully be explained later. By the way! Thanks so much for following my story guys! You are all way too nice! More to come!