Coffeehouse Drabbles

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia…but probably for the better.

Warnings: Drabbles (so very, very short! …Most of the time), Shounen Ai/male x male pairings, bad language courtesy of Lovi, and some OOCness (I'll do my best to avoid that though).

So glad you liked the fic so far! Your comments made my day and motivated me to get this chapter out sooner than planned. For those who didn't quite understand the ending of the last chapter (minor Hunger Games SPOILERS) Primrose Everdeen was the younger sister of the heroine, Katniss. When Primrose's name was selected for the Hunger Games, Katniss volunteered to take her place instead. (END SPOILERS) I think America was just looking for an excuse to say that quote….

This chapter was unfortunately based off an actual event that happened to me in real life, but without the room full of nothing but attractive men. Curse, you reality, curse you!


In the end, all Nations must fall. Even the cleverest, most powerful, influential, and large countries are doomed to become nothing but pages in the history books one day. No one knew this better than Romano, who could to this day vividly recall losing his Nonno, the Roman Empire, at a very young age. He knew this day would eventually come for him as well, he had just hoped it wasn't so soon….

Cold chills swept through his body and shivers shook his frame. He coughed weakly, half-expecting to see blood on his hand. His stomach turned violently at the thought. A fever raced through his body, flushing his face and clouding his mind. Even in that state, all he could think about was him.

It wasn't fair, not in any sense of the word. He had finally built up the courage to confess his feelings to America after centuries of keeping it buried in his heart. The Italian was expecting the American to be offended, confused, or angry even….but instead he found himself in the taller man's arms, telling him the words he'd only dreamed of – America loved him too.

Romano glanced across the table in efforts to see America's face one last time, but his unfocused eyes were only able to see two other blondes. He grimaced. Apparently, the frog bastard and that Canadia guy had met a similar fate as him. Both were lying face down on the oak table, weakly breathing and barely clinging to life. The brunette managed to wipe his eyes on his sleeve when he recalled they were about to legally become a family in just a few short weeks…

Another round of scrubbing his eyes with his sleeves as Romano recalled the night 7 months ago when America proposed to him. Sure, he had almost fallen off the damned boat in shock, but the deep look of love, longing, determination, and a host of other emotions Romano couldn't name in America's bright blue eyes had been worth it. It was at that moment, that Romano's life had felt complete. After centuries of loneliness, he was able to find the person he was destined for and promise to spend the rest of his life with him. That all seemed cruelly ironic now.

Just as ironic as the place the green-eyed boy found himself in now. Romano had always assumed he'd die in a war protecting his little brother, or an alley after a botched mafia dealing, a hospital room at his lover's side, or even the goddamned moon before he expected to be breathing his last in a cozy little cottage near the ocean. The scenery mocked him – a set of fine china, candles burning with the scent of roses and vanilla, shelves lined with books of every size and shape…He hadn't gotten a chance to look them over, but now suspected each book contained chapters about poisons, torture, curses, and other fun Sunday reads. Nothing in the books could save him…where was America….?

Romano blinked with heavy eyelids and managed to focus on America, who appeared next to him. Unlike the other three in the room, America seemed fine. Better than fine; he was almost acting as if nothing was wrong. Like the world wasn't ending and his fiancé wasn't dying right in front of his beautiful blue eyes. Like—

"'Mano? Are you okay?" he asked, worry etched in his face.

The brunette tried to tell him to run and escape, but the words came out as a jumble of mismatched sounds.

Seeing his fiancé in such a state, America became more concerned and slowly lifted him into his arms. He whispered soothing words into the Italian's ear and promised him everything would be alright, he would find a way to fix this and make him feel better.

Romano felt himself being carried to a different room in America's strong arms. He tried to tell the taller Nation to leave him and save himself, but it was too late and Romano slipped into a cloud of darkness.

It only could have lasted a minute or two at most, because when he came to, he saw America speaking with England in an urgent tone. The bushy-eyebrowed man set down a dinner pot of something atrocious and glanced at Romano.

"What the bloody hell happened?!"

"I-I don't know! We were eating the soup you brought out and suddenly Lovi, Mattie, and Francis just collapsed on the table!"

"D-Did the frog spike the stew?! Dammit, this was my grandmum's famous recipe!"

"I don't think so…I've been trying to ask Lovi, but he can barely talk in this state!"

As the two Nations tried to piece together what heartless monster could have infiltrated the house and ruined dinner, Romano's stomach gave another violent turn.

"This is the last time I try to impress my fucking in-laws…" he moaned.


A/N: Inspired by a previous event in my life. Had the physical manifestation of Romerica been present, I could have at least died on the spot in peace, but noooooo…I had finals the following week. Plus, I was in Canada's position…I should have known better than to trust the cook, but didn't want to break her self-esteem and deal with a drunk/crying/tantruming adult-child later. Maple, do I ever feel bad for that guy…

Sorry it was so short! The next chapter should be a little longer ~

List-o-Words

Nonno (It.) - Grandpa