Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters.

Chapter 3: Mind Your Own Business!

"You…you…You're WHAT?"

Feliciano grinned like a fool and held out his left hand. There, on his ring finger, was a sparkling red tomato ring.

"Ludwig asked me to marry him! I'm so happy, ve~"

Romano stared disbelievingly at the younger Italian, who was practically jumping in his seat and waving his hand around excitedly. The two brothers had went out to an Italian restaurant to get some late brunch that Saturday. Green vines entwined with little white lights wrapped around the archway at the entrance and made its way across a metal pergola that covered the whole room. The tables were covered with red and white picnic cloths, and a beautiful mural of a country home with a field of flowers was painted on the wall at the back of the room. The combination of every specific detail created a peaceful and authentic atmosphere that had you feeling like you were actually in Italy.

Therefore, the older Italian was hoping to relax and enjoy some pasta, but then Feli had bombarded him with his shocking news.

Feliciano Vargas was going to marry Ludwig Beilschmidt.

His fucking brother was going to marry that potato bastard.

And he wanted Romano to be his best man.

Well wasn't this shitty?

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." The boy finally spit out, distaste dripping from his words.

"Please, Romano," his brother pleaded with wide eyes and a convincing pout, "You're my beloved fratello. It has to be you."

The older Italian ignored him as he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. Leaning across the table, Feliciano grabbed his brother's hand and detangled his arms.

"I know you and Ludwig don't get along very well, but he's a really sweet guy that makes me happy, and…" Feli looked up at him with love-filled eyes, "I want to spend the rest of my life with him."

Groaning, Romano ran his free hand through his hair. Oh, he was good. His younger brother was just too skilled at guilt tripping him. Even as a child, Feli could get almost anything out of anyone as long as he played his cards right. Romano was very often a victim. But this time, his brother probably really meant what he was saying. And he was so god damn sappy about it—it was annoying. Sighing, the older Italian pulled out of his brother's grip and took a sip of his coffee. He gave Feli a pointed look.

"Fine. I'll do it. But just for you, not for that potato bastard!"

A wonderful smile grew across Feliciano's face. The wooden chair squeaked across the stone floor as the boy jumped up and into his brother's lap.

"I love you, Roma~! Thank you sooo much! It's going to be such a fun wedding! Ve~" Romano struggled to peel off the leachy limbs of his brother.

"Yeah, yeah. Get off me now, idiota."

His brother giggled and complied, returning to his seat. A flash of mischief sparked in the younger Italian's eyes as he watched his brother from across the table.

"So…have you met anyone new, fratello?" Romano's eyes instantly snapped to Feli's in a moment of silent surprise. Oh god. What did his brother know?

"W-what…what makes you say that?" he said calmly.

Feliciano drummed his fingertips on the wooden table surface and grinned almost innocently. Almost.

"You're happier. Calmer. Coming home late. Lost in your own thoughts more. Spending lots of time in your room—" Romano blushed and waved his hands in front of himself.

"Ok! I get it! That's enough."

The younger brother waited patiently as Romano struggled with his words.

"Err…there might be… some…one…" He mumbled so quietly you could barely hear him, but Feliciano had sharp ears.

"Oh! I knew it! What kind of person are they?" He asked happily.

Romano twiddled his thumbs and thought about it.

"Umm… he's annoying and stupid," he began slowly, thinking of what to say, "He can barely take care of himself. He's always smiling and laughing, like he has no damn care in world—its irritating! But…he's kind and sweet and…" I think I like him a lot.

Romano left it at that and scowled at the forced affection he had to show for the bastard. He raised his eyes to meet his brother's, who was smiling like a fool and giggling.

"He sounds perfect for you! When do I get to meet him?"

"Yeah, Romano? When do we get to meet him?"

The deep, manly voice that rang out was not of either sibling, but of someone else's. Romano flew up in his seat and Feli squealed in delight as they looked up to see their muscular and handsome grandfather, who was staring down at them with a huge smile. The man looked like a combination of the two siblings with two stray curls on their respective sides. Even at an old age, he had a youthful face that always expressed his casual manner and jovialness. Feliciano jumped up and hugged his grandfather lovingly.

"Nonno!" The buff man just laughed and returned the hug two-fold.

"Ve-e~, Y-you're crushing me, g-grandpa." Feli breathed out shallowly.

"Oh! Sorry, sorry!" Nonno loosened his grip and set the boy back on the ground, "Now, how are my two favorite grandsons doing?"

They both gave positive responses as Nonno pulled a chair from another table up to theirs. The man held up his hands and gestured to their surroundings.

"You two always come here to eat. Why did you move out anyway? Come back and live with your lonely, old grandpa. The restaurant could use a few helping hands as it is." He pouted. Romano scoffed and crossed his arms.

"Not a chance, you carefree, old man. We had to practically feed ourselves through high school." The oldest man chuckled.

"Feliciano made such a brilliant cook though," he turned to the younger brother, "Come cook for me?"

The youngest Italian smiled politely, but shook his head.

"I'm still in school and not nearly as good as you! Besides, I told you—Ludwig and I are getting married. We'll need to get our own house soon~"

Nonno waved his hand. "Ah, well, we all knew that was going to happen sooner or later. Congratulation, by the way." He ruffled the younger Italian's hair and sent him a grin.

Their grandfather turned to the silent Romano, who was now realizing the potential of him actually being married. Feli would have to move out? What was the older Italian going to do then? Didn't his brother need him?

Nonno turned his head and smirked at his older grandson.

"Now, I'm curious about this young fellow pursuing Romano."

This snapped Romano out of his thoughts. The boy groaned and aimlessly twisted his fork in his hand. Couldn't they just leave him alone?

"Huh? That bastard? No, we aren't together." His grandfather raised an eyebrow.

"You two must be something if he's worth mentioning." Damn these people and their analyzing. But it was the truth! Romano really didn't know where they were, or whether Antonio really liked him.

"M-mind… mind your own business." He mumbled weakly. Nonno nodded silently and sat there for a moment before pursing out his bottom lip.

"Does he have a job?"

Romano glared at his grandfather, but eventually gave a conceding sigh.

"Yes. He works at a coffee near the college we go to."

"What does he study?" Nonno inquired further.

"Photography."

"What's his name?"

Romano stood up and scowled menacingly at the man.

"Nonno! You're not going to do a background search like you did with the potato bastard, are you?" Their grandfather grinned and rubbed the back of his head guiltily.

"Ah, maybe…"

Romano reached over to punch him as Nonno shielded himself and laughed nervously.

"Ok! No, I won't! I promise!"

The angry Italian settled down and leaned back in the wooden chair.

"It's Antonio."

Both Feliciano and Nonno cocked their heads. Smirking, the oldest man leaned back in his chair and arched an eyebrow.

"Oh, Spanish?"

"The country of passion, ve?" Feli added dreamily. Their grandfather snickered and nudged the younger brother.

"Guess it would take extreme romance to sweep him off his feet!"

Romano growled and clenched his fists as the two burst out laughing. This was why he didn't tell people anything!

"If you bastards are going to make fun of me, I'm leaving."

Both his brother and grandpa wiped away tears and shook their heads.

"Sorry fratello! It's very sweet, in my opinion. Ludwig isn't very good at the romantic stuff, but he tries! You're lucky!" Feli exclaimed happily. Romano scowled and turned away from his family skeptically, while Nonno leaned forward.

"So, when do we meet him?" The older Italian clicked his tongue.

"Never, if you two are going to act like this!"

The two across from him pouted while he sent them a wavering glare. Stupid brother. Stupid grandfather. Making him feel guilty for yelling at them. Giving in, Romano scratched his cheek and avoided their eyes.

"Maybe soon… I don't know. We'll see…"

The two men perked up and smiled. Nonno turned to Feliciano and held a hand over his mouth, as if he was telling the boy a secret.

"You're right. He's so much calmer now."

Romano stormed out of the restaurant, leaving his idiot grandfather and brother to nurse their head wounds.

~x~

"Antonio! Watch the cup!"

"Oh—shit!"

Antonio cringed and cursed as the freshly brewed hot coffee spilled over onto his hand. While he popped his index finger into his mouth, Elizaveta stared at him and shook her head.

"Really? Be careful! That was the third time today." She exasperated and flicked off the milk frother machine.

"Sow-wy," he mumbled with his finger in between his lips. Washing his hands and wiping the cup clean with a towel, he handed it off to the irritated customer with a quick apology.

The man leaned tiredly on the counter and sighed heavily. They were at the peak of business at the coffee shop, and it was just now finally starting to settle down. Antonio had been off his game—burning himself several times and mixing up a few orders. He probably would have been in trouble if it weren't for the fact that his boss liked him too much to let him go.

It wasn't his fault he was so distracted. All he could think about was his cute Italian—cheeks puffed and red—sporting his signature scowl and spewing insults. If he let his mind explore further, it'd take him back to the moment when Romano had unexpectedly graced him with a kiss upon his cheek. It was short and simple, but Antonio could swear he could still feel his touch lingering there, forever imprinted. Did that mean the boy liked him? He hoped so. The brunette was slowly beginning to understand his quirks, and the truth behind the insults and sensitive attitude. And they had almost kissed in the kitchen—he was sure of it—before Francis had ruined the moment. Even though they were both adults, the Frenchman still treated him like a child and had teased him the whole time after the Italian had left. If he could, he would have just preferred to keep his Romano all to himself, away from his rambunctious friends. At least it hadn't been Gilbert that had walked in. The self-proclaimed Prussian never would have let him live it down.

Hanging his head in his hands, Antonio stared out the window. It had been two days since he had seen Romano, and he had no way of contacting him. He would have to ask for his phone number when he saw him the next time. Or even better, ask him on a date! They could go somewhere romantic like the park or a restaurant! Maybe he could even save up some of his work money and take him somewhere really nice? Yes, perfect.

"Are you just going to sit there like an idiot, or are you going to take my order?"

Antonio awoke from his daydream to see his familiar Italian standing in front of him, scowling. Romano was wearing a dark blue V-neck tee that cut off right above his faded black jeans. Although it was a simple outfit, the Italian certainly knew how to make it look good. Forcing himself to peel his eyes off the boy's body, the Spaniard looked up at his face and gave him his best smile.

"Roma~! How are you?"

The boy's cheeks were slightly pink as he scoffed.

"I've been better."

This threw off the brunette. Sure, he had expected fine, bastard or mind your own business, but not an actual, honest answer.

"What's bothering you, mi tomate?"

Romano shot him a glare at the nickname and stuffed the points of his fingers in his pockets.

"Don't call me that, bastard! And…well…it's nothing, but my family's stupid and my brother's getting married." The Italian said the last word as if it was poison. Ignoring it, Antonio grinned.

"That's exciting news! He must be so happy!" However, Romano showed no sign that he agreed. The boy frowned and dropped his gaze to stare emptily at the tea assortments on the top of the high counter top.

"Yeah, he is. He's really happy."

The Spaniard noticed the boy's distress and, after a moment, turned his head towards his boss, who had been watching them the whole time with a smirk on her face. She nodded and gave him a shooing motion. Antonio turned back to the Italian, who was lost in his thoughts, and regained his attention when he spoke up.

"I'm about to go on break. Want to talk about it?"

The boy looked reluctant as he stared at Antonio warily. Stepping back and crossing his arms, Romano hesitantly nodded.

"Only because I have nothing better to do. At least get me my coffee first, bastard!"

Antonio laughed and stood up, rubbing his elbows that ached from leaning on the counter.

"Of course, of course. Lo siento. Espresso right?"

Feeling in the mood for some more meat, Romano also asked for the apple smoked ham sandwich. He pulled out the right amount of money, but Antonio beat him to the punch and bought the two items for him against the Italian's protests not to. The Spaniard chuckled as Romano sent him a silent glare and furrowed his brow indignantly.

"I wanted to. Don't worry about it." Antonio said as they walked towards the seating area. The metal buttons of their jeans scratched across the brown leather as they slid into one of the round couches. Romano adjusted himself and groaned.

"Whatever, bastard. You win this time."

Eager to get some food into his system since he missed breakfast, Romano took a bite out of his sandwich and was instantly struck with the distinct taste of the smoked meat. Ah, that hit the spot. Antonio grinned even larger than usual and watched the Italian eat, who noticed and stopped chewing.

"Stop watching… it's creepy." The Italian mumbled, avoiding his gaze. Antonio rubbed the back of his head shyly.

"I helped make the sandwiches today, so I was wondering how I did."

Romano swallowed down a piece and looked at the sandwich. He had made this? If that was the case, he wasn't a bad cook at all. In fact, this was something his brother would make, and he was a cook!

"They're… not totally horrible." He mumbled as a huge smile grew on the Spaniard's face.

"Really? I'm so happy!" Romano's heart flipped at the sight of his beautiful expression. Red spread over the Italian's face.

"D-don't get so cocky, jerk! I could make this better than you any day!" Antonio chuckled and twirled his finger at the sandwich.

"I though your brother was the one that cooked."

Romano rested his head in his hand and leaned on the table.

"I'm Italian. Of course I can cook. My brother is just to one that wants to do it for a living." The brunette raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Oh? You should come over and we can have a food contest! It'd be fun! You could invite your brother too!" Antonio suggested excitedly.

The boy puffed out his cheeks and huffed. "Who said I wanted to cook with you anyway? And I'm not letting you anywhere near my brother."

Antonio sat his head on his knuckles and leaned forward on the heels of his elbows.

"Huh, why not?"

"B-because…" I'm afraid you'll like my brother more than me, just like everyone else. "I can't deal with two idiots in the same room. You two would probably set the kitchen on fire!" He decided to say, but didn't meet the Spaniard's eyes. The man pouted in response.

"Aw, Roma. I promise we'll be careful."

"Not a chance." The boy growled out and clenched his fists tightly. Humming, Antonio looked up at the ceiling before grinning and looking to the Italian.

"Then…let's do something else." A questioning look fell upon Romano's face as he locked eyes with the Spaniard.

"Huh?"

Slender fingers intertwined with the Italian's own, causing him to jump slightly at the sudden contact. Antonio grinned and leaned closer to the nervous boy in front of him.

"Let's go on a date."

Romano turned red—Antonio noted, like a tomato—and started to stammer.

"W-wha…what? I don't—I barely—why would I…ack, you jerk!"

The blushing boy tried to pull his hand away, but Antonio had their laced fingers in a tight grip. He lifted his other hand and began counting off options.

"We could go to a movie! Or a restaurant. Or a picnic. Anywhere you want."

The man turned back to Romano, whose mouth was gaping open and closed like a fish. He blushed even redder when Antonio leaned closer to him with half lidded his eyes and a sweet smile he bet no one could resist.

"Please say yes."

Romano blinked several times and swallowed harshly.

"Umm…I…uh, ok…bastard." He muttered quietly and dropped his head to hide his bright cheeks. That damn Spaniard…and his persuasiveness!

A high-pitched squeal from the other side of the café attracted their attention. The two boys looked up to see the Hungarian woman staring at them, blood dripping from her nose and eyes filled with sparkles. Romano glanced at Antonio and tried to look unsuspicious.

"Who's that crazy lady ogling us?" He said nonchalantly as Antonio chuckled and laid his arm across the back of their seat behind Romano.

"Elizaveta. She's my boss. And apparently a huge boy's love fan." Antonio said with a hint of disturbance. It was a strange obsession for a grown woman to pursue.

Elizaveta, disappointed that they were no longer focused on each other, frowned and grabbed two pink cake pops covered in white sprinkles from the fridge. She then placed the two pops next to each other and tapped them together.

"K-I-S-S." She mouthed to the two confused boys, and demonstrated with the pops again.

Understanding her request, the Spaniard and the Italian blushed and quickly moved away from each other in embarrassment. Looks like he hadn't been kidding. Romano concluded that she probably wasn't going to be a problem for him.

"Uh… she seems nice." The auburn-haired boy said as more of a question than a statement. Elizaveta pouted and pointed up at the white clock on the wall, which read past one o'clock.

"Oh! I overstayed my break," The Spaniard stood up and looked down at the Italian with surprise, "Oh! We didn't get to talk about why you weren't having a good day. I'm sorry."

Romano waved him away.

"It's nothing, bastard. I can handle my own problems. Besides, I feel a little better now." He admitted timidly. Antonio leaned down and pecked Romano's cheek, causing the boy to turn red once again. His eyes locked onto his own.

"I know. But I want to help you. Here."

The sound of something scratching across the table echoed in the boy's ears. Half-entranced, Romano looked down at the piece of paper the man had given him to find numbers on it. Antonio retied his green apron and started to walk back to the counter.

"My number. Call me so we can set up the date. Oh! And if you're ever late for the train."

He winked at Romano, causing the boy to regain control over his senses and scowl. The Italian stood up as well and walked to the glass doors. Before he walked through them, he looked back at the Spaniard.

"W-whatever, bastard! I'll do whatever the hell I want."

And with that, he was gone. Antonio just grinned and went back to work, immersed in a world of happiness.

However, he still managed to burn himself four more times.

Pure happiness couldn't cure stupidity.

~x~

"Today, I want all of you to think about what makes you happy! What drives you. What makes you want to smile and laugh in your everyday lives."

Romano groaned, but reluctantly listened to his peppy professor. He was a short blonde man with a strong Finnish accent and a permanent cheerful smile. The man looked rather young and could easily be mistaken as a student himself. He never stayed in one place and bounced around the lecture area, encouraging students to share their artwork and to paint a story with their utensils. The Italian didn't mind the man, but he didn't care for him either. After all, he could only deal with so many lively people in his life.

Professor Väinämöinen (who requested his students call him by his first name, Tino, due to his ridiculously hard to pronounce last name) moved around the room, describing their next project.

"Now, channel that happiness and energy into a physical form of art, any type that you wish. I want to see what you kids can do!" Turning on his heels, the Finnish man pointed at his audience, "You might just discover something new about yourself, or a side of yourself you never realized. This will be due in a month, so get to it and start planning! Class dismissed!"

This man was so god damn sprightly, it gave Romano a headache. Massaging his forehead, the boy thought about what he was going to do. What made him happy? That was a tough one. There were a lot of things that made him unhappy, but not so much for the other case.

Sighing, Romano put his sketchbook back into his bag and slid out of the cramped desk to walk down the stairs. His mind vaguely registered the strange exchange between his friendly professor and the woodcarving instructor, who wore a daunting look on his expressionless face that sent kids the opposite way. However, the small Finnish man seemed unaffected by his demeanor and hugged the tall Swedish man enthusiastically.

So that was happiness, huh?

Exiting the building, the Italian walked over to an empty wooden bench and sat down, spreading his legs out and looking up at the sky. It was blue and beautiful, wide and free—he admired it. He wished everything was simple. Pulling out his cell phone, the boy stared at the screen and scrolled down to the name he had input yesterday but never called.

Antonio—the idiotic, attractive Spanish man that invaded his thoughts too often and made it difficult for him to focus. He was thoughtful and kind and good and just perfect. But it was for those reasons that he hadn't called him yet.

Romano hated to admit it, but he was scared.

What if he was just messing with him? What if this was all a joke? Antonio had so much going for him—looks, the personality, the charisma, the talent. What did Romano have? A messed-up personality, lack of friends, an inferiority complex to his brother, the list went on.

Please say yes.

I want to help you.

Antonio's heavenly voice echoed in his head. He leaned over and pressed his lips into a thin line.

Maybe…

Romano looked at his phone and hovered his thumb over Antonio in his contacts.

Just maybe…

Exhaling shakily, he pressed the man's name and held the phone up to his ear.

He could trust him.

After the first two rings, the Spaniard picked up.

"Hola! Antonio speaking~"

Romano's heart skipped a beat as felt his palms grow sweaty.

"W-why are you so chipper, bastard?" Antonio's voice peeked with excitement.

"Romano? Is that you?"

The Italian rolled his eyes, even though he knew he couldn't see him.

"No, it's the fucking delivery guy." The man was silent for a moment.

"Larry?"

Romano groaned. "No, bastard. It's me."

"Uh…Charlie? If it's about the last package, I asked Gilbert—" Antonio's voice was filled with confusion before Romano cut him off.

"God, you're hopeless," the boy sighed, "Yes, it's Romano."

"Ah, Romano! I'm so glad you called! I almost thought you weren't going to, since you didn't show up at the shop today." There was hint of hurt in the boy's voice, one that Romano found he didn't like at all. The Italian sighed and shifted the phone to the other ear.

"I had a project due that afternoon, and I had to put some last minute touches on it." He said truthfully. It had taken him an all-nighter and extra hours in the studio to get it done.

"Oh, really? That's a relief! At least you got it done!"

"Yeah, I've got some free time now before my next project." Romano bit his lip, hoping the bastard would take the hint.

Antonio was silent for a moment. "Romano…do you…do you want to do something tonight?"

Romano's breath hitched in his throat as he tried to suppress a smile. As happy as he was, he still had to play it cool. Romano logic.

"W-well, I have nothing better to do. What did you have in mind?"

The Italian could practically feel the radiating smile of the bastard.

"I was thinking we could go for some pizza and ice cream."

Romano hummed in agreement. "Better be a good pizza joint. There's a lot of crappy ones around here."

"How about Alessio's?"

Tired of leaning over, Romano sat up and mulled over his suggestion. Alessio's was a fairly decent restaurant that a lot of local college students visited for cheap pizza and the latest football game to watch with their friends. The boy clicked his tongue thoughtfully.

"It isn't too bad. I guess that works."

"Great! I get off at six, want to meet me in front of the shop?"

"Ok. I'll be there, tomato bastard." Antonio laughed pleasantly.

"Can't wait. See you soon."

Romano hung up the call and stared at it blankly, his mind still with Antonio. A little content smile may have even slipped onto his face as he stood up and headed to his last class.

A/N: Yay! Next chapter, the date :)