The Way We Were
Summary: Spain is having difficulties raising Romano on his own. He seeks advice from Austria, and even accepts advice on child rearing from Prussia and France!
Pairings: NONE
Warnings: Swearing, compliments of Romano.
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Prologue
"You're just... giving him to me?" Spain asked suspiciously.
"Ja. I've absolutely no desire to raise two more nations." Austria explained, as if the very thought of it exhausted him.
"Really?" Spain exclaimed, eyes shining with excitement.
"Ja, really." Austria replied wearily.
Sunlight filtered through a break in the curtains. Spain blinked and rolled over, putting his back to the offending light, and tried to settle back into sleep. Unfortunately, there was to be no such luck for the sleepy Spaniard. Spain pretended to be asleep as his door was unceremoniously slammed open, probably leaving a huge hole in his wall. He tried not to think too hard about that, but it was annoyingly impossible to ignore the blaring light that came in as his curtains were ripped open.
"Spain! You Bastard! I want breakfast!" Romano yelled.
Spain pulled his covers up over his head, thinking that it should be illegal to be so loud this early in the morning.
"S'to early to be so noisy, Romanito." Spain complained, "Can't you make your own breakfast?"
Spain groaned in protest as he felt his covers ripped from the bed, but he really wasn't all that surprised, "Romano, lemme sleep!" Spain sighed in exasperation, still refusing to open his eyes.
"No way, Tomato bastard!" Romano yelled at him, "It's your turn to make breakfast! You promised me churros, dammit!"
Spain let out a half sigh, half groan. It was blatantly obvious that Romano was not going back down until he got his own way. And Spain knew that the fiery half-nation would resort to violence if he didn't comply soon.
"Alright, alright!" he caved, sitting up before Romano decided to hit him.
"Finally!" Romano exclaimed; the scowl was obvious in his voice, though Spain's eyes hadn't adjusted to the point where he could see it yet, "Hurry up and get dressed, you jerk! I'll be waiting in the kitchen!"
Spain rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and slid off of the bed. He yawned as he made his way across the room to dig through his dresser drawers for some clothes to put on. He grabbed clothing at random, being too tired to care what he put on and made his way into the hall.
"Oh Romano, where did I go wrong with you?" he sighed.