Oh dear, I messed up. I think my writing high is wearing off. Somebody, write a Spain x Romano that I can read rather than write! My spark is dwindling! XxX

In case you haven't noticed, I've been switching points of view (POV) each chapter. Still 3rd person, however, focusing more on one character's train of thought each time. The problem is, I started off this chapter with the intention of making it Antonio-centric, however when I wrote in a small comment regarding Lovino's thoughts on a matter, I suddenly switched and didn't realize it until I finished the chapter. I feel like a moron. I'm so sorry, everybody; I'll do an Antonio-centric chapter next time.

Also, you may notice a smaller amount than usual of Italian and Spanish. See, 'Sweet-With-Talent' lives in a Spanish-speaking country and has agreed to be my beta, however she has not yet returned my personal messages or established a DocX

connection with me; and I feel that my chapter-a-day timeframe must be honored, so instead I simply minimized the amount of Romantic language I used to what I knew was correct.

I'm sorry if this inconveniences you or makes your reading experience any less enjoyable.

--

Lovino sat down next to Antonio with an exasperated sigh. "What's wrong with Signor Sole?" he asked with disinterest, shoving an ungodly amount of spaghetti into his mouth.

Feliciano smiled brighter than the sun. "Oh, he's just a little angry because you called when we were in the middle of having sex."

Antonio could hear Lovino choking next to him. This was not going to go very well.

--

-----

Dear Diary, FML

-----

After trying to calm Lovino down for almost twenty minutes, Antonio plopped down in his seat, exhausted. The Italian continued glaring at the German, positively seething. Feliciano was wondering aloud what "that was all about", and Ludwig's face must have been glued to the table, because he wasn't lifting it.

"So, uh..." Antonio struggled to ask for help in such a tense atmosphere. "Romano and I..."

"Made up, yes we did," Lovino finished, irritated beyond belief. "We didn't bring you here so that we could relive your sexual escapades with my younger brother, so let's move on to business, shall we?"

Ludwig sat up, apparently forcing himself to erase all signs of embarrassment off of his face. "Yes, let's get on to business."

--

After a devastatingly slow hour (to Lovino, at least), the terms were set. Spain would court him for two months. During that time, neither he nor Spain was allowed to flirt with or 'admire' ("Check-out", Feliciano had elaborated) another woman or man.

Spain had agreed enthusiastically, babbling some nonsense about not having looked at anybody like that since he'd "fallen in love with Lovino" anyway. Romano wasn't so sure about the terms.

After all, he was a lady killer.

"Romano, you will accept these terms." It wasn't a question, and violent or not, Lovino was still a coward.

The Italian sank into his seat, arms crossed. "Fine..."

"Alright! This will start at midnight tonight," Feliciano chimed in, "and Lovino can't curse like a madman without a good reason! Even if he has a good reason, if he curses... Antonio gets to kiss him!"

Romano stared as his brother incredulously, then turned his attention back to Germany as he laid down the final rule.

"Lastly, he may not refuse any of Spain's advances unless they are violating something sacred, such as... virginity, etcetera..."

Lovino shot his brother a horrified look. "YOU TOLD HIM?!"

Feliciano smiled awkwardly and hid behind Ludwig. "So, those are the terms! Ve, Ludwig, I think it's time to go!"

He practically dragged the other nation with him.

--

When Romano went to sleep that night, he was grumbling about potato bastards and respect of privacy, a tomato-colored blush still adorning his cheeks. He rolled over and glared purposefully at the wall as Antonio settled himself across the room.

"So, Lovino, tomorrow is going to be a great day!"

Lovino snorted quietly, ignoring him. Tomorrow was not going to be a great day. No longer could he flirt shamelessly with neighborhood girls, and with Spain able to get away with more... flirting than usual, he'd be forced to start wearing pajamas to bed.

Definitely a bad day in the making.

--

Lovino covered his face with his hands, desperately trying to block out the rest of the sunlight which had invaded his eyes. He sat up and stretched with a yawn, rubbing the back of his head sleepily.

Hm... my alarm clock must have broken, I'd normally be awake by now...

"Buenos días, Lovi!"

He blinked and turned to his side to see Spain with one of those stupid trays that timid housewives tended to have in sexist '70s television programs, loaded with some sort of... balanced breakfast. Oh, and he had an almost inhumanly happy face on.

Oh my god, he's serious. Scopa.

Spain handed over the tray to a slightly disoriented Romano. "It's a tomato and cheese omelet, some toast..." There was more, but Lovino was too busy making sure that was on the tray was edible to pay attention. There was a reason why Lovi did all the cooking in the house. While Spain babbled on like a giddy schoolgirl, he cut a small piece of omelet with his fork and ate it.

It could be worse...

He swallowed and looked up at an expectant Spain. "Well..." Lovino started, "...they say that 'He who would eat in Spain must bring his kitchen along', but it's not half bad."

Spain smiled at the compliment, but then quirked his head. "Who says that about my country?" he queried, definitely curious. Lovino smirked.

"It's a German saying. I always knew they were stupid."

Lovi stuck his tongue out. They laughed. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad day after all.

--

After his morning fog, Lovino regained his angst for reasons unknown.

Well, in truth, they were very obvious as they walked down the street together.

It was those stupid neighborhood girls.

Batting their eyelashes, laughing in little clusters, whispering and giggling, making passes... wearing extremely short skirts, blowing kisses...

That was when their walk began to crumble to bits. Those stupid girls wouldn't stop making passes at Lovino, and he was going to go crazy because he couldn't respond.

Lovino pulled on his hair and said a strangled, "Merda". His eyes widened in realization of what he had just done. Antonio sighed and pulled Lovino flush against him, tilting his chin upward with a firm hand.

Oh, god. What did I just do?!

Antonio kissed him.

-----

//End Chapter 4

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"Ve" – Unknown in origin, a sound often made by Northern Italy.

"Buenos días" – Spanish, "Good morning".

"Scopa" – Italian, "Fuck".

"He who would eat in Spain must bring his kitchen along" – A German insult of Spain, directly translated from German to be as insulting as possible.

"Merda" – Italian, "Shit". Romano's got quite a mouth on him.

-------Q. Why did Antonio kiss Romano? That was UNEXPECTED WTF. 0.o'

-------A. Feliciano's rule: If Romano curses, Spain must kiss him. Positive punishment, perhaps?

Alright, hope that wasn't TOO bad, considering how I gave you all of the chapter's faults at the beginning of the chapter rather than the end like I should have. -.-'


I'm dying, and reviews are the things that keep me alive... I will reply to every review I get, and I watch
Fullmetal Alchemist, so I believe in equivalent exchange. The effort and quality put into the next chapter will amount to exactly the amount of effort and quality put into my reviews.

Until next time, ciao!

6.) "ciao" – Italian, "Goodbye".