Chapter 4:

I can see you guys. I can SEE the hits. WHY AREN'T YOU REVIEWING? (angstily falls into a heap of tears) But…but…I WILL persevere! I WILL write this fic even if nobody reviews! (is shamelessly abusing the guilt-trip technique)

Warning: This chapter contains potty mouth on Romano's part, words that I would rather not say (read: words that my mom would never let me say, lest my hide be tanned).

Nonnie sighed out of her nose, gathering up all her books and supplies, ready to go home for the day. It had been tiring, to say the least, and the shocked stares from practically everyone the rest of the day didn't help. At all.

She was making her way out of the door, when a hand grabbed hers, successfully pulling her back and hindering her from leaving. Nonnie was gently turned around, and the first thing she saw was brown. Dark, pretty brown.

Nonnie furrowed her eyebrows as the brown moved back to reveal whites, and eventually a face. The face of a boy. Nonnie gasped, her lips parting a little; she felt her face flush even brighter than her red hair. "U-um…" she stammered, "Did you need something?" She inwardly winced. She needed to start getting better around other people.

The boy grinned smoothly, and instantly, Nonnie recognized him. This was Evan Runners. The best on the football team and the apple of almost every girl's eye. To be truthful, Nonnie had never really noticed him before, but now that she saw him up close, she realized he was good-looking. Like, really, really good-looking.

"Actually," he said, "I'd kind of like to know who that guy was earlier."

Nonnie was practically melting at the sound of his voice. "Th-that guy…?" Oh! He must mean Italy. "Um...he was Ita—Feliciano. My…big….brother. Yeah."

Evan's smile grew. "Well, I was wondering. Would your brother like me hanging around you? You know, with you?"

"I—I don't know. Why?"

Suddenly, Nonnie stiffened as he leaned in closer, and put his mouth to her ear. "Nonnia. I'd like to go out with you."

Nonnie swung open the door. "Italy, I'm back!" She heard a slight scuffling, and quick Italian. That was weird. It sounded like two people talking. She then heard a loud laugh, a loud, obnoxious laugh.

Nonnie dropped her bag and hurried to the kitchen to investigate.

Nonnie decided to take this situation as calmly as possible.

Okay.

There were two Italies. TWO ITALIES. WHY?

Oh, but that wasn't all. With them, there was a blond, burger-eating, glasses wearing man.

"Italy…?" Nonnie's voice quivered, like she was about to cry or have a mental breakdown (or both). "Why are Romano and America here?" everything just seemed to stop when she said this, and the three nations turned simultaneously to look at her.

Italy was the first to break the silence. "See, Romano? That's Sorella! Say hi, sorella!"

Before Nonnie could say anything (and it most certainly wasn't going to be "Hi"), America burst into laughter, saying, "Hello, my citizen! The hero America has graced you with his amazing presence!" He then began to rattle off a list of his favorite foods, favorite heroes, et cetera.

"Chigi!" Romano muttered angrily. "You think you're so great, don't you, bastard?"

America simply laughed again. "I don't think I'm great!" he assured. "I know I'm great!" Romano's face heated up angrily and he made to lunge for him, but Nonnie jumped in the way, short arms spread out.

"Please, no violence in the apartment..." What she had hoped would be an authoritative command had turned out as a small meek-sounding request. But, at the moment, Nonnie would like nothing more than to bash herself over the head with a large, preferably blunt object.

She looked pleadingly to Italy for support, but the nation was already in the kitchen, singing a happy tune about pasta.

"Yeah!" Suddenly, America grabbed her by the torso, and lifted her up onto his shoulders. "Listen to my citizen!"

"Ha!" Romano growled. "Italy was here first! That means that this house has been conquered by Italians! And that means she's my citizen!" He roughly grabbed Nonnie's arm and yanked her off America's shoulders. Before Nonnie could even shriek, she was in Romano's arms, being "hugged" protectively.

America then proceeded to go into a lengthy tale about how heroic he was, and how he had full ownership over Nonnie. Nonnie, of course, was too busy having her lungs crushed flat to care. She wriggled out of Romano's grasp, and finally was able to breathlessly say, "How about you guys share the house?"

They were to be her most regretted words of her life.

Tape. Tape everywhere. Both America and Romano had torn up the house, declaring what was theirs and what only they could use. America had scribbled his name all over his "land", and Romano had placed smears of tomato sauce on his. "Don't cross this tape!" they both commanded each other, and Nonnie was beginning to wonder if suicide really was the answer.

"Haha!" America laughed loudly, and plopped down on the couch, picking up the remote.

"Hey!" Romano nearly screeched. "Bastard, that's my territory!"

America gave a cheeky grin. "Couch is uncharted territory~!" he sang, leaving Romano to sputter angrily about how unfair America was being, and how he was going to sue his ass if he didn't stop being a (all together now) bastard.

Nonnie felt faint. Really, really faint. As in, I'm-gonna-pass-out faint. She felt a little bit shaky, too, but she figured it was just part of the stress. Understandably.

She leaned against the wall, as if unable to balance on her own two feet any longer, and slowly slid to the floor, sitting down roughly. She thought of earlier today, the crushing words flitting clearly through her mind: Nonnia. I'd like to go out with you. She unconsciously sighed, running a hand through her hair, which was now beginning to frizz back to normal. Why would he choose her? Out of all people, out of all the pretty girls in the world, why her?

It seemed as if her life had simply become one big fat soap opera. She smiled grimly.

"Nonnie! Hey, hey, kid! Are you listening?"

Nonnie jerked her head up. "Huh? I-I'm sorry, what was that?"

Romano straightened up in front of her, arms crossed. "I was asking if you were okay. You looked like you just saw America eat burgers for the first time."

"Hey!"

America trudged over, looking ready to bash Romano over the head with a chair. His face changed when he saw Nonnie, though, his eyebrows furrowing together to look incredibly concerned. He knelt down in front of her. "Nonnie. Are…are you shaking?"

Italy poked his head out of the kitchen. Bad timing on his part, but he asked anyway, "Why did everything go all quiet? Is everything alright?" His hazel eyes were open, and Nonnie couldn't help but foggily think about how nice they looked. The blue and the brown were nice, too, but they seemed to be all mixing into one another.

"Nonnie? Nonnie?" America grew increasingly agitated as Nonnie's eyes began to close. "Nonnie!"

"Don't just sit there! Call an ambulance!" Nonnie heard garbled words, tripping and mixing into each other until they were barely recognizable. Why are they so worried? She wondered. I'm just feeling a little bit weak. I'll be better soon…

She heard the words grow louder in volume as her eyes slipped closed. All I need is a little nap…

Haha! Revenge for not reviewing! What, you think I was gonna let that go? Pshaw.

Anyways, I've noticed about myself that I tend to make the faces that the characters in my stories are making when I'm writing them. So half the time I'm wearing a confused look and then at the end of this chapter I looked ready to fall asleep. El-oh-el.