Karissa crawled across the play-mat, reaching her chubby fingers out to grab at the hand of her cousin. She giggled in that adorable way babies do; waving her hand about with Alfonzo's now her prisoner. When Lovino walked back in from the bathroom, Leonardo protectively cradled in his arms, the older brother looked to his mother with a bright smile that almost perfectly mirrored his father's.
"Mamma, look! The baby likes me!"
Smiling softly at the scene, Lovino knelt to place the youngest of his children down on the mat. He reached over to place a few gentle fingers on the copper curls of his niece's head, and her blue eyes turned on him wide and expecting. In the flash of a second, her attention immediately shifted from Alfonzo to Lovino, hands out and grabbing for the Vargas twin with attention-wanting whines. Alfonzo frowned.
"Don't worry, bambino," Lovino practically cooed to his son as he picked up the little girl. She cuddled into him practically the moment his hands wrapped under her arms. "I just look a lot like her Mamma, she still loves you." He smiled, watching the little before him perk up instantly with a soft "good".
Their moment was shattered by the door of the hotel room swinging open. "Lovi? The meeting is going to start soon." Antonio popped his head into the room, smiling at the small family before him. "We should get going soon, tomatino."
That broke the motherly streak in the Italian's face, and he whipped his head around to direct a harsh glare at the other. "Lo non sono un pomodoro cazzo!" he shot back in rapid-fire Italian, all the while placing Karissa back down to the quilted mat. Standing, scowl still in place, his hands found their way to his hips and he stared Spain down with a harsh sigh. "When's that bastardo getting here to watch them? If they have to sit through a meeting, we'll never get anything done." He rolled his eyes, striding over to the dresser to pull out his tie. "Everyone'll be cooing over them and making a big fuss over nothing."
"Loviiii, our bambinos aren't nothinnnng!" Spain chirped in response, walking over to him with a momentary pause to pat Alfonzo's head fondly. Coming up behind Romano, he reached over the other's shoulders to help adjust the tie with a warm smile. "Emil said he'd be by in a minute… He had to make sure Norway had all his paper work straight if he was going to be designated babysitter by the Nordics." Kissing his cheek, Spain stepped back with a playful pat to the other's ass that sent Romano into a flushed string of curse words.
A knock saved the Spaniard from the impending mauling, and he quickly went to answer it. A bright, contagious smile spread across his face at the sight of a bored-looking Iceland standing on the other side; the teenage nation staring back at him with a raised eyebrow and baby carriers by his feet. Beside him, Peter grinned in the excited way all children do, Maja curled up to her big-brother's chest as he held her.
"Sorry we're late," he said as he stepped into the hotel room with a carrier in hand. "Norway was determined to get me to call him….well," Iceland rolled his eyes. "You know." He placed the plastic baskets down onto the bed, taking a moment to peek under the blankets to see if the babies were still sleeping soundly. Content with his results, he turned to look back up at Spain.
Romano strode over to Spain, fiddling with the tie he found to be too tight again. "Call if anything goes amiss," Spain chirped over his husband's head as the shorter was dragging him off. "I'll make sure Denmark doesn't distract Lukas too much from taking notes for you!"
"…" sighing softly, Emil looked down at the mat to find the children staring up at him expectantly. "Uh," intelligent Ice, "Who…wants to watch a movie?"
"I'm picking it out!" Peter shouted, putting Maja down to rush and rummage through his bag. "I know I got something awesome in here!"
Iceland took it all in stride, folding legs up beneath him as he pulled out his phone and quietly padded across the key board to formulate a text to one of the (in his opinion) few sane nations left.
Author's Note: Cuz who DOESN'T love Uncle Iceland!