Chapter 4: Insults
Prussia hesitated outside the door. The plane ride back was the longest he'd ever experienced; not to mention, he was going to have some serious jetlag after those trips to Germany and back. But he didn't have time to think about that right now. He'd noticed Romano's tomato red Ferrari in the driveway, and the Italian would definitely be wondering exactly why he had come home to an empty house.
Prussia raised his hand to knock, before realizing how stupid that would be. Instead, he flung the door open like he owned the place.
"Oi, Lovino~!" he called with false cheer.
Prussia shut the door behind him and walked a bit further into the house before the tomato-faced Romano stomped into the hall. Great. He was already angry.
"Where have you been, Potato Bastard!" Romano shouted at him.
"I...I vent back to Germany after you left." Prussia admitted.
"What!" Romano fumed, "I'm not spending my week off in Germany!"
"Wan?" Prussia asked, before he remembered that he told Romano he was spending the day preparing what they would do on his week off. He held his hands up to ward off the angry Italian.
"No, that's not what I... Ve can spend the veek doing vhatever you'd like." Prussia said, trying to appease the fiery Italian. He was certainly making a mess of things.
Romano did seem satisfied with the answer, as he let the subject drop. However, his scowl was as prominent as ever.
"What about Fratello, did he go with you?" Romano asked.
Nein. Prussia thought. Italy had arrived before him, and definitely on a different flight.
"Ja." He answered, "Feli stayed behind, though."
Romano's face turned red, and then he was blinking angry tears out of his eyes; he was really really upset.
"Don't cry Lovi," Prussia soothed, taking the shaking Italian into a crushing hug, "Feli just vanted us to be able to spend the veek together. And he knows you don't vant to go to Germany with me."
"I'm'a so hungry!" Romano sobbed.
Prussia sighed and tried very hard not to roll his eyes, "Vell, let's make dinner, then. I'll make you pasta!" he said with a smile.
"No." Romano said, looking up at Prussia with a frown, "You always overcook it! Soggy spaghetti is disgusting! Pasta is supposed to be al dente! Al dente!"
Prussia sighed, "Practice makes perfect?"
"I'll make the pasta." Romano grumbled before stalking off to the kitchen.
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Dinner was a quiet affair. Prussia still couldn't decide exactly how to tell Romano what he needed to tell him. He tried to enjoy his pasta as much as the Italian was, but that was hard to do on a normal day. To tell the truth, Prussia much preferred wurst and potatoes, but he would never say so around Romano. He heard Romano sigh and put down his fork, something the Italian never did halfway through a plate of spaghetti.
"Gilbert, why are you so quiet?" Romano asked, folding his arms across his chest.
"Ah, I... I just." Gilbert struggled to form an articulate sentence, "Can't this vait 'till after dinner?"
"No," Romano said sternly, scowling. Something was going on, and he was determined to figure out what.
"I have something to tell you..." Prussia started, begging the words to form correctly in his brain before coming out of his mouth, "Last night... Feliciano and I..."
Romano's eyes narrowed; he did not like where this was going at all.
"Vell actually, I was bored and couldn't sleep... so I vent into the kitchen for a snack." Prussia tried again.
"But Feli was in there... and he was crying." Prussia continued.
Romano waited, somewhat impatiently. Italy crying in the kitchen was not an unusual event.
"So I invited him to vatch a movie with me, but he'd been drinking, and.." Prussia's throat constricted as he watched a vein threatening to burst on Romano's forehead.
"And Feli started... and I got up to go to the bathroom, but he stopped me-"
"You're not making any sense, you bastard, spit it out!" Romano snapped, interrupting Prussia's senseless rant.
"And then Feliciano... he touched me there." Gilbert spluttered, forgetting he was talking out loud, "And... we made out on the couch."
Gilbert had looked down at his hands twitching nervously on the table as he finished his confession. He was too afraid to look up at Romano now; afraid of the fiery Italian's wrath. Gilbert was fully prepared for the slew of screaming, swearing, and violent blows he was sure to receive. He was not prepared for this.
Gilbert sat very still; eyes shut tight, waiting for the inevitable. However, the sound that reached his ears was not yelling or screaming, or even swearing. Prussia opened his eyes to see that a very distraught look had come over Romano. The little Italian was crying pitifully, tears streaming down his face; biting his lip to keep himself from sobbing out loud.
"L... Lovino," Prussia said softly, Romano's pain mirrored in his voice.
"Shut up you stupid Potato Bastard!" Romano cried, "Alloco! Fessacchione! Faccia brutta!"
Prussia didn't need to know much Italian to know that Romano was insulting him. He just sat there silently and took it. He would have liked to walk around the table and comfort Romano like he usually did when the Italian got this upset, but he was the cause of this... and Romano would probably hit him if he tried. So, Prussia just sat silently while Romano cursed and insulted him in Italian, Spanish, English, French, German, and even some languages that Prussia didn't know.
When he was done shouting, Romano's face was tomato red and he was breathing like he had just run a marathon; tears were still streaming from his face. Likewise, Prussia was paler than ever, and his breathing had all but stopped. They both sat quietly for a long time after that.
After about ten minutes of silence, when Romano's breathing had returned to normal, the Italian looked up at Prussia. Prussia could see the pain etched into his tearstained face.
"Come here." Romano said evenly.
The Italian seemed calm enough now, but his expression was off somehow. Prussia stood slowly from his seat and walked over to Romano. He tensed as the Italian stood up and snaked his arms around the Prussian's neck. Prussia hesitated, but then wrapped his arms around Romano as well. He waited silently for the Italian to say something, as he was too keyed up to break the silence.
"Ti amo, you jerk!" Romano said with great certainly.
"Ich liebe dich." Prussia responded automatically, "I love you, too."
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Sorry that it took so long... and that it's so short and angsty! Dx
I really got very bad writers block while composing this chapter. I meant it to have more in it, but I was just having too many difficulties. This could be the last chapter as it pretty much concludes the story, but I think I'll write a little something something as an epilogue; since, I'm pretty sure you guys want to know how they spend Romano's week off.