And Three Makes Five

by Sunny Day in February

After being apart from each other for months, Lovino and Antonio are ready to live their lovey-dovey lives with each other again! However, when they wake up one day and discover there are tiny little CHILDREN running around their House, things get a little... different. Rated M, because Spamano.

98. Quote 98

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: I won awards, people! 8DDDDDDDDDDDDDD As a few readers already pointed out to me, my writing work has been rewarded with several prizes already: the award for Best M-rated Story and the award for Best Author (still waiting for who's going to win the Best Fic award at this moment!). I feel so honored and pleased! ^^ My thanks go to everybody that voted for me. Thank you so, so much! I know it's just a fictional prize and that I get nothing special (like cold, hard cash… okay sorry), but it's very great to know that my writing's appreciated like that by so many people all over the world. ^^ It's unbelievable. The best kind of unbelievable.
I kind of want to reward you all for rewarding me by instantly starting a new, fresh Spamano fic after this one (a shorter one though, like two, three chapters and that's IT), but I guess it's better when I take a break after this fic, because, well, I kind of need to recover for a while after I've wrapped up ATMF, if you don't mind!

A/n2: Also, I have over 2,000 reviews now, dear readers! Whoa! WHOA! Just LOOK at that reviewcounter and pinch me! *starts decorating the room for absolutely no reason at all except for that I'm happy* Thank you TONS for giving me so much kindness and attention, people! I really, truly, dearly appreciate it!

A/n3: As I had thought, you guys didn't really like me skipping Luisa's speech like that. I'm so sorry for that – I really did want to write it out, you know – BUT THESE HANDS. *glares at hands* THEY NEVER LISTEN TO ME. NAUGHTY, NAUGHTY HANDS.
So, in a weak attempt to make things up with you, have a Seb-trying-to-be-romantic-but-failing-epically-or-is-he-speech. You know you want it! ^^

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 98:

Find a girl,
Settle down
If you want, you can marry
Look at me,
I am old
But I'm happy.
Cat Stevens
(Father and Son)

'Hello my name is Sebastiaan van der Wiel.

I'm Luisa's boyfriend and I am here in front of you because I have an announcement to make and it's got something to do with Luisa – and that's Luisa, right there, the pretty girl with the teary face and the beautiful yellow dress that Alejo picked out for her, also I'm going to rip it off her body tonight.

…

I'm obviously kidding, Mr. Romano. Yes. Yes.

She can keep it on when we do the do.

…

…

I don't understand why you two are getting so angry all of a sudden however I think I should be happy Mr. Germany and Pa Nederland are so very strong and you two kind of wimpy.

But anyway I'm here because I have to make an announcement and it's going to be great and stuff but.

Well.

I know I have this really monotonous voice that I probably inherited from my equally emotionless biological parents – yo dad, 'sup – so I am fully aware I need to do something in order to keep all of your people's attention without making me look like an uninteresting zombie.

So I made a poem.

Let me take the poem out.

…

I have taken the poem out.

Of my pocket.

This is the poem.

It is a nice poem.

I made it myself.

I already said that.

It's true, though.

…

I am now going to read the poem.

But before that here's America's son with a nice song that he thinks suits my poem as its backgroundmusic.'

\0o0/

I heard what Seb said, and I looked at the Netherlands, who was keeping me from storming onto the podium to kick his blunt son's little blonde ass.

'Backgroundmusic?'

'No, it's Netherlands. Neth-er-lands,' said tall tree corrected me. 'You may call me Daan, though. Then again, Spain may not and I will squeeze his eyeballs to mush if he has the nerve to break this important rule.'

…

I… wisely decided to ignore him and looked to the side, to Antonio, looking just as baffled and just as restrained as me because that other Germanic bastard was blocking his way.

'Backgroundmusic?' I spat.

'Backgroundmusic!' Antonio sputtered back.

Finally, I looked at Luisa, standing on the other side of me.

'Fucking backgroundmusic?'

'D-don't look at me, I didn't do anything!' Luisa instantly protested. 'T-this was all his plan – I have no clue what's going to happen! W-well, I may have had some kind of idea, but…'

'He's going to read a fucking poem,' I slowly said, 'your emotionless, skyscraper-sized boyfriend is going to read a poem out loud, and America's son – motherfucking America's son I'm almost crying – is going to provide it with backgroundmusic?'

'Um, well, it'll probably only serve to improve the atmosphere when… when Seb's going to read out his poem, so…'

'IT'S STILL BAD, DEAR DAUGHTER.'

I turned my attention to the podium, where the ecstatic son of America and England, also known as Johnny the SHIT YOU GOT OLD, was installing all kinds of… DJ… equipments and machineries, together with his American father, and where Seb was silently watching along, nodding or shaking his head whenever Johnny asked or told him something. They made such a strange couple that I could cry – and why the fuck not, I had cried like a gazillion times already today anyway.

'What poem even NEEDS backgroundmusic!' I suddenly heard myself yell at Seb, who instantly looked my way. 'I mean… poems are works of ART! Beautiful, inspirational art! Don't fucking fuck with art by putting fucking music underneath it!'

America, who always had this strange need to reply to everything his damn ears happened to hear, looked up as well. He started to laugh out loud, as always, and jumped forwards to grin at me.

'Hahahaha! Weird Romano! Man, that surprised me! I had thought that a guy like you, who knows more about art and architecture than Japan knows about homoerotic tentacle subtext-sex, would be aware of the fact that reading out poems with some interesting backgroundmusic playing, is, actually, also a form of art!'

'Wha—!'

'Postmodernism!' America gave me a wink for some strange reason. 'Postmodernism is the thing, Romano! Hahahahahahaha!'

I squinted my eyes till they were just two small, olive-colored splits, glaring at the American. 'Bite me.'

America, who by the way wore a BRIGHT-RED, GLITTERY SUIT, WHAT THE CRAPOLA, looked troubled.

'But I don't want to bite you.'

'That's not what I mean and you know it, you moron!'

He gasped. 'Oh! Could it be that… do you want me to let you hear YOUR introducing backgroundmusic again? Yours was the fantastic song "Love (Romano) Today" by the wonderful singer Alfa, remember?'

'NO.'

'You don't remember? Maybe if I start playing some of it… it's got to be in my stereo-surround-system's memory somewhere… Let me check real quick!'

'STOP.'

'Oh shizzlefritz, I seem to have left it at home! Aww.'

'Thank you, sweet baby Jes—'

'WELL, IN THAT CASE, I'LL SING IT!'

'WAIT WHAT NO!'

But America smiled gracefully at me, COMPLETELY IGNORING MY DISTRESSED FACE, while Antonio and Matteo were both very amused by all of this and just giggled like the huge dorks they were, dammit, not helping me at all.

'Now, Romano!' America hollored – I'm not even kidding, he actually hollered. 'As your god, lord and savior, the great and wise Super Mario would say: let's-a-go! Whoo-hoo!'

…the fuck.

'Ahem! Tum, tadadeedadee tum, tadadeedadee tum… the Spanish freak's gonna love Romano today, Romano today, Romano today…'

'My god, he's actually singing it,' Antonio managed to say, while almost choking in his own laughter. 'This is beautiful – is somebody taping this? Please tell me somebody is taping this.'

'YOU ARE LIKING THIS – WHY ARE YOU LIKING THIS,' I shrieked.

'No worries – I got this,' Denmark – Denmark? – said, and came out of the heap of people to stand in front of the podium with an actual camera. 'Heh, I figured that if I'm going to film a singing Norge, I might as well film a wailing America!'

Okay, this was starting to get a little out of hand now.

In fact, my brain would fucking EXPLODE if I let this madness rampage on and so, before America would really get into it and embarrass me even more in front of my offspring, I started to wave my arms at him hysterically, yelling at him to please, oh god, stop.

'America, cut it out! It's not… it's… u-um… Seb! Yeah, that's right, it's SEB'S time to shine, remember, not MINE, so… so do HIM instead!'

'Now that's interesting,' I heard Alejo say, who apparently had returned from the dining chamber in the meantime and was now standing next to me, with Tosca's daughter leaning on him as he smirked at Seb and even waved at him.

'Yo! Seb! Dad said that America should do you!'

'Allie NO,' I hissed at him.

'Allie YES,' Alejo hissed back.

Seb, who had noticed and also heard us, frowned deeply.

'Alejo. I'm sure your dad didn't mean it like YOU meant it.'

'Oh but I mean it, if you know what I'm sayin– ouch!'

Alejo stopped talking and rubbed his cheek, that Venetia had just pinched. She then solemnly stared at me, nodding reassuringly.

'Don't worry, Mr. South Italy. I'll bed Alejo tonight like he's never been bedded before, so that he won't even think about bromancing Seb anymore. Though I can't really blame him. Seb is fairly hot, after all. I'd tap it.'

'I know, right?' Alejo grinned.

Venetia stopped smiling. 'Do it for real and you'll never see the light of day again.'

'Ohh, jealous, aren't you?~' Alejo chuckled and gave her an admittedly cute kiss on her frowny-face-parts. 'Don't worry. I just got you. I'm not planning to let go of you that easily, babe.'

'Babe.' Venetia swallowed, blushing a bit. 'Nice. I like being called babe.'

Alejo grinned proudly. 'It was either babe or mocha-maiden.'

She laughed and pulled him closer. 'Just kiss me already.'

Meanwhile, I witnessed all of this and groaned. 'Please don't talk about bedding my son – please don't talk about tapping Seb's what-fucking-ever – please don't fucking feel each other up right next to me oh GOD – you kids exhaust me!'

I groaned once more, turned away from Alejo and Venetia's make-out session (oh god I really couldn't look at it – too fucking weird), quickly returning to my seat and rubbing my temples as soon as I sat down.

Well, anyway…

No matter what headache was coming up, at least America had lost his interest in singing his Mika-remix (that's what you get for being an easily distracted douchebag) and he had gotten off the podium, while sonny Johnny was now talking to Seb again, the both of them looking pretty serious as they… well, discussed matters and shit.

It was good to notice that at least Johnny had some sense of fashion. He wore a gray suit, that would have made every other person look very old, but actually suited him perfectly.

He was balding, though.

In a handsome way.

…

I didn't even know it was possible to bald handsomely.

I didn't even know 'to bald' was a verb to start with. Was it? Hmm…

'Sweetie?' Antonio suddenly put a hand on my leg and smiled at me. 'Are you okay, my love? Tired already? There's much more going to happen, though. We still have that buffet waiting for us, and a dance contest, and… well, we should make a romantic stroll around the basilica as well later, when the party's ending. It's going to be a clear night, you know.'

'A stroll?' I gave Antonio a blank look. 'Seriously – how old can you be? Taking strolls is for elderly people, dammit, not for immortal losers like the two of us who stay fresh and mid-twenty forever.'

'Say that as much as you want, it doesn't change the fact we have three grown children and a grandkid – and one grandchild in progress!' Antonio chuckled. 'If that doesn't make you feel old, nothing does. Also…'

'Also?'

Antonio's smile got a bit sad. 'Also, there are some things I'd like to discuss with you – just you. Hence the stroll invitation.'

'Really?' I felt worried. 'What kind of things? Not bad things, I hope?'

'Ah, well, it will probably just be the ramblings of a melancholic man…' Antonio's voice got softer. '…but I still want to share them with you. If that's okay with you, of course.'

I snorted and nonchalantly reached out to his face, gently touching it, making him look at me in silent wonder.

'You can share everything with me. You… you know that. So of course it's okay with me, Antonio. Almost everything that's got something to do with you is okay with me.'

'L-Lovi…' Antonio's green eyes got a bit brighter.

I tried not to blush as I watched him. God, he looked fucking flawless. No matter what happened, Antonio always was the same handsome, kind and wonderful man as ever.

Maybe I should say more sappy… s-sappy nice… words to him to make him feel better, and maybe he'd reward me with a kiss.

I-I'd like that…

I—

Suddenly – BANJO MUSIC.

Or guitar music, I'm not sure, but it was a jazzy, folky tune that was booming out of the surround-system on the podium all of a sudden. It sounded light, upbeat and cheerful, and it also sounded… it sounded… fairly familiar…?

'That's RIGHT, chaps!'

Johnny had taken the mike and was now gloating with his big, American-English teeth, as he looked into the crowd – pulling Seb to his side, who was still fumbling with his poem or song or whatever the crap it was. Meanwhile, the introducing part of the…. introducing backgroundsong (I just didn't know anymore), kept looping.

'You know this song! It's the great and smashing poetic song "Luu Luu Luu" by Sebalance City (not to be confused with "Love Love Love" from Avalance City)! My instant best fellow Seb, that I've known for a day or two now, has some lovely lyrics to share with you – but most of all with Luisa, according to Seb the most stunning, beautiful and interesting phenomenon since Fanfiction Flamingo-memes. Or memes in general. And THAT's saying something!'

…

You could hear a needle drop.

Just leave it to America and, apparently, his just as random son, to make rooms so quiet and confused that you could hear needles drop.

'But anyway,' Johnny said, pushing Seb to the front, 'let's all listen to what Seb has to say to his Luisa! Come on, Seb! Look alive! Bring it around town, good man! Bring it arouuuuund town!'

And while Johnny went back to where his awful stereo-installation-thing was, Seb was left behind with the microphone that America had smacked into his hands before dashing off.

Me, Antonio, Luisa and pretty much every living and breathing living being in the chamber looked up at the lone, tall boy on the podium, staring right back at us, completely unfazed, as he brought the mike to his mouth.

Then, he nodded at Johnny – who was doing now wild impressions of typical DJ-behavior and bobbed his head up and down while wearing a headset AREN'T YOU TOO OLD TO BE DOING THAT YOU IDIOT – and right at the moment the original singer of the original song would sing their song, Seb started reciting his… poem, I guess.

STDvdW

Yeah? Can I… okay.

(Hum, hum)

Luu, I say that our baby is on its way,

Well you and me we'll be there to wait here, to see when that adventure starts,

And my love for you will grow even more, just look at all the many hearts,

Well I've been wanting this since I first saw you,

Marry me, just come my way.

I heard my heart sing Luu, Luu, Luu

I heard my heart sing Luu, Luu, Luu,

I heard my heart sing Luu, Luu, Luu,

I heard my heart sing Luu, Luu, Luu.

(Ahum)

Oh, I know: forever seems such a long time to live,

With me, I mean – I'm just a simple man but I love you till the end of time,

Well I can't say our kid will turn out fine with parents like you and I,

We'll do our best, we'll love the little twerp, that's what matters most, ain't that so?

I heard my heart sing Luu, Luu, Luu

I heard my heart sing Luu, Luu, Luu,

I heard my heart sing Luu, Luu, Luu,

I heard my heart sing Luu, Luu, Luu.

(cough, cough)

Please be my wife my Luu, I want you,

To be my pretty princess forever, and always.

I heard my heart sing Luu, Luu, Luu

I heard my heart sing Luu, Luu, Luu,

I heard my heart sing Luu, Luu, Luu,

I heard my heart sing Luu, Luu, Luu.

Wo-oh-ooh, love, love you,

Wo-oh-ooh, love, love you,

Wo-oh-ooh, love, love you…

…

…

That was the end.

STDvdW

I had finished my poem, so I stopped talking and waited.

By the way, I thought it was kind of amazing that this song Johnny had been talking about indeed had the same rhythm as my poem had – just what are the odds? Such a lucky coincidence, almost like somebody from another dimension had carefully tried to fit all of my sentences into an excising song for me.

But that was just silly. Such a silly thought. Haha.

Anyway, after a few seconds – in which I had that silly thought – the room started praising me and my song with another standing ovation.

Well they had to give me a standing ovation, Mr. Romano and The A-Man where the only ones that had chairs to sit on.

But they stood up and applauded for me as well (and I think Mr. Romano was crying again, this was like the fourth time, that man must have stored so much water in his body), so I still kind of got a standing ovation. I seem to get a lot of those today, maybe it was sign I should ditch the bank business and start a career as a singer-songwriter. I could start a band, call ourselves 'Tulip and the Turnip-Pinchers' and dye my hair bright red.

Luisa would fucking kill me.

…

I'll put it on hold for now.

Anyway, talking about Luu – where was she? I was looking for her in the crowd, especially the little squad that was standing around Mr. Romano and his awesome spouse (I could see Alejo – that idiot – and Raquel, Matteo, Mia, Mr. Hernández…), but I couldn't see her. I looked at my best pal The A-Man, hoping he could wordlessly tell me where his daughter was.

He grinned broadly at me and made this swirling movement with his finger.

I thought he was giving me his blessings by sending me tildes, so I tilded back at him.

Like~ this~.

Strangely enough, The A-Man didn't seem to really appreciate my wiggly finger and got a really complex look on his face.

I wanted to ask him in tildes what was the matter and why the people in the room were laughing so hard, but then Mr. Romano got up from his seat and placed his hands next to his mouth.

'She's right behind you, you stupid moron!'

'Oh,' I said, nodding, and turned around.

Mr. Romano hadn't been lying: Luisa was indeed right behind me, apparently having climbed up the podium when I was busy signaling with her Spanish father (the biological one).

'Hi Luu,' I said, feeling my heart twirl a little when I noticed the overjoyed look on her face. 'Did… did you like my poem?'

'It wasn't a-a stupid poem, you dumb fuck – it was a song, you made a song for me!' Luisa then burst into tears – happy tears – and suddenly grabbed my jacket, violently rubbing her face in my blouse.

I blinked and let her rub her face against my chest for a while like that, smiling the entire time, knowing that she probably meant to tell me this way that yes, she liked it very much, and yes, yes, yes, she'd marry me – she'd marry me right away.

But she wasn't going to get away with it that easily.

I wanted her to say it.

So I collected her burning-hot face in my hands after a minute or so, tilting it up until I could look her in the eyes.

'Well?' I softly asked, while she hiccupped and clawed at my wrists. 'What's… what's your answer, Luu?'

Her lower lip trembled. 'Yes, you asshole – Y-yes, I'll marry you, of course I'll marry you – I'll always marry you, you stupid, moronic, d-dumb, amazing man…'

'Yeah?' I felt my smile was growing immensely.

'Yeah.' Luisa took a breath and smiled shyly. 'I-I love you, darling.'

'And I love you, too.'

And while I kissed Luisa, the crowd got wild, yet again.

…

I bet everybody will have heavily bruised hands and lost their voices tomorrow.

/0o0\

After Alejo, Matteo, Luisa and Seb had all said what they had wanted to say, it was time for the next part of the evening, or, in other words – it was dinner time.

As soon as Seb had smooched Luisa so many times that I wanted to wring his little neck more and more with every kiss he stole from her (come on – you don't do that! What idiot actually kisses a daughter right in front of her fathers – making a wedding proposal or not, it's confronting, it's weird, it's… it's downright mean to the fathers!), she finally got a chance to grab the microphone and pant that everybody could now head for the buffet in the other room.

'Just… just look for your country's flag and name, Matteo has put them everywhere on the tables,' Luisa unintentionally breathed way too suggestively, making me want to kick Seb's ass even HARDER, 'and enjoy the food! Th-thank you very much for your attention up till this point! I… I hope you'll have a wonderful evening! Enjoy your meal!'

The announcement was warmly welcomed by the many guests ('FINALLY! WE GET TO EAT SOM GRUB!'), and within no time, everybody was swarming the door that leaded to the sort of makeshift dining room.

I had thought that it probably would take hours for me and Lovi and our kids to get through that door, and that we would probably have nothing to eat left anymore either, because Europe is a PACKED continent and if they could get their hands on something nice – boy, they'd GET it.

But it actually wasn't so bad at all: one moment I was standing in line with Lovino and our three wonderful kids, happily chatting about the evening so far, the next moment, I was hungrily staring at all the crabs, crawfish and other seafood that was being presented on one of the many, many, many white-clad tables stalled out in the impressively big dining room – and the moment after that, Lovi and I were already sitting at the special, huge table Matteo and Raquel had arranged for us, ready to eat our food.

Our table had room for nine more people – all people Lovino and me loved to be with: Ángel and Stefano, Alejo and Venetia, Matteo, Raquel and Mia, and Luisa and Seb. All of them smiling, eating, chatting and having a good time, enjoying the truly delicious food.

While we all ate, laughed and talked loudly – and while the guests surrounding our table also ate, laughed and talked loudly – I took my time to silently, in-between chitchatting, drinking, cutting my food and actually eating it, take a good look around the table and think about what I felt for… the many great humans sitting at my table.

'…and you never know what he came home with after his first day of school: roadkill, Lovino. I kid you not. Roadkill. There were still some guts inside the poor rodent. You should have heard Stefano scream when he put it on the table and told him he wanted to eat it for dinner!'

I looked to the side, to watch Ángel talk with Lovino, who couldn't stop grinning and was very fast to tell my former personal doctor that Alejo also did that once when he still lived with us.

I smiled a bit. Ah, Ángel. My smarter, kinder human counterpart. Guillermo's grandson that looked nothing like the old coot – God bless his kind soul. The one that decided to adopt the kids with his partner and even didn't mind the humongous prize that came with looking after the kids: being crippled with a sickening amount of guilt, knowing that the real dads of the kids would never see them growing up. Ángel was only in his late forties or early fifties, but he looked a lot older, probably because of all those feelings of guilt that he had been building up throughout the years.

He was losing his hair and the hair that was still present had gotten white and thin. He wasn't as goofy and naïve as he was when I first met him and his smile never really reached his ears anymore. Plus, and this thought scared me a little bit, I feared that Ángel wouldn't get very old. Nowadays, humans could become hundred years old and even older, but he wasn't going to live that long. It was just a feeling. Just a hunch. I could be wrong. But then again – I had seen many human friends die. I recognized the signs when people were getting at the last station of their lives.

'B-by the way, Ángel, would you and Stefano like to come barbecue with the kids and us somewhere this Summer?' I then all of a sudden asked Ángel – and god, I heard the way my voice was rasping a bit as I said that, and I felt the way it hurt my throat.

Ángel paused his conversation to look at me. I'll admit it, I'll finally admit it: he did look like me. Apart from the dark, brown eyes and the age, he was just like me.

'That… well, that would be great, wouldn't it, Stefano?' he said, now giving his husband an enthusiastic look. 'I'd love to barbecue with all of the family – that would be… gosh, lets pick a date later! Okay Antonio? Ahahahahahaha!~'

I grinned back and felt the hard rock in my stomach go away a bit. It would return some day, I was certain of it – but not now.

'Hey, Antonio – hand over some more wine, will you?' Stefano's bearded face asked me, playfully jabbing my side (his arm – not his beard). 'Ángel and I won't be driving home tonight anyway, so let's make the best out of that delicious French wine, right!'

I agreed and gave him the requested wine. It made me chuckle a bit: for a long time, I had compared him and Ángel with me and Lovino. I was Spanish, Ángel was Spanish, Lovino was Italian, Stefano was Italian… and don't even get me started on the matching personalities.

But Stefano and Lovino actually weren't all that much alike. Stefano didn't care about his sometimes frightful appearance (and Lovi did), he was as manly, muscled and burly as men could be (and Lovi – sorry sweetie – wasn't, really) and Stefano actually loved France and everything France-related, since he and Ángel always went to France when they had some spare time.

But Stefano, like Lovino, was a good man and a great husband and father. I was thankful he had never left Ángel or the kids – but maybe that was the most insulting compliment I could think of. Stefano would've never left Ángel and the kids. Never. I was sure of that. No matter what would happen, Stefano would be there, the kids' sturdy rock in the unforgiving sea, strong and loyal.

He would get old. Oh yes. A healthy, fit middle-aged man like him could easily get 90. I was certain of it – and I was happy to realize this.

I ate some of my food, and then my eyes were getting drawn to Alejo and Venetia – the both of them paying more attention to each other than to the food that was on their plate. They both had gotten a rice dish with vegetables and chicken, judging from what was in front of them, but they were caught up in a rather funny conversation about pig-slaughter. It seemed that Venetia wasn't grossed out by such a topic, and Alejo was so happy to hear that, he just couldn't stop talking about the secrets of a clean, good piece of meat.

I shook my head a bit, snorting. Alejo looked a lot like me, yes. A whole lot. Like Ángel, his looks were matching mine, with only his eyes, sense of style and weird mood-swings reminding others that he was Lovino's son as well. A passionate, young man that had lived quite a rough life already, had suffered pretty spectacularly over the years, and that now finally seemed ready to take his life seriously and start a relationship with probably the only woman that could handle him without going crazy.

I had been afraid of him when I first met him as a kid. He and Matteo where a spit-up version of me: the goodness enclosed in Matteo's stupid, but kind nature, and the evilness sealed away in the energetic, but creepy Alejo. It was that easy. At least, I THOUGHT it was that that easy. But Matteo clearly told us earlier that he was no angel. He had flaws, too. And Allie, Allie could be one of the sweetest and most caring persons you'd ever see.

Maybe he started out as my 'dark' side – but he had grown into somebody that was so, so much more than that. And I loved him. I loved him dearly – and I had promised myself that I'd never be afraid of him, or myself, again. Ever.

I watched how Alejo fed Venetia some chicken. She laughed and pushed him when he 'accidentally' bumped the piece of meat against her nose. I didn't know Venetia that well, so there wasn't much I could say about her. She looked like her mother, yes, but at the same time, she was a completely different person. She seemed more carefree and very levelheaded. However, I only knew her mother as Lovino's personal doctor. I had no idea what she was like in real life. Who knows, maybe Tosca, too, could play around with her husband like her daughter was now doing with Allie?

I had no idea. But I did know that Alejo's entire being cheered up when he was with Venetia, so I was more than happy to approve their frail relationship and wish the two of them the best of luck. Hopefully, they would become happy together. Only time could tell.

'Aww, you already got sauce all over your face! Come here, let me clean you up a bit…'

That was Raquel's voice. I looked around the table, expecting to see Raquel wiping Mia's mouth, but instead, I saw she was carefully scrubbing a napkin over Teo's face, who apparently couldn't eat two things without getting smeared all over with sauce and other food-like substances.

'I –I can't help it,' Matteo stammered, while Raquel looked ridiculously concentrated on cleaning his face, which was kind of cute, '…I just love – mwrn – I just love salads, I had to take it all in me!~'

'Then why didn't you,' Raquel sarcastically muttered. Matteo just grinned sheepishly at her and it was adorable – I could literally see Raquel's frown being turned upside down, or… downside up, or whatever the exact order was, and she now was even blushing, stuttering that he should tell Mia to eat her veggies already. That was Matteo's secret power, no doubt: his unbearable cuteness. A hardened, lonely girl like Raquel, who had been suffering from darkness and emptiness during almost her entire life, was no match to his kindness. She had to fall for him. There really never was an alternative option.

Matteo had always been a nice kid. Ever since I first found him in the bathroom, there was just something about him that made you want to love him. He was the first of the kids that warmed up to us. He was the first kid that, no matter his brain-capacity, realized Lovi and I were his papa's, and that wanted us to love him. I had always thought that a boy like Matteo would lead a bright and sunny life, with no worries, since he has this positive outlook on life.

But I had been wrong about that. Matteo had arguably leaded the most difficult life of all my children. Not because he was a punk like Alejo (because he wasn't) and not because he was moody like Luisa (because he wasn't), but because he lost the love of his life at an insanely young age to a ruthless, awful illness. My silly, slow-witted, happy-go-lucky son was suddenly a mourning, single father – and that can break people. That can seriously mess a person up. I didn't even want to know what would happen with me if I ever lost Lovino like that, and I also didn't want to know what happened with Matteo when he lost Kay.

He had subtly told us in his speech he had been a worthless father in that period, and I bet that's true, but he got out of that pit of despair. He recovered. He had managed to climb out of it, with the help of his siblings, and he even was able to find love again. Naturally, I was heavily impressed by his surprisingly strong personality. As I was impressed by all of my kids.

And Raquel! Oh, Raquel. Diego's daughter. I bet people could write entire books about Raquel and the terrifying life she had led before I mildly forced her to help Matteo with the preparations for my and Lovi's wedding anniversary. As a neighbor, I watched her grow up. I witnessed how much she lost of her original personality to become a hollow shell of her former self. I even noticed her father driving off one night – and I still remember that because it was almost 2 o'clock when I heard his car start. The poor girl then was left with her mother, one of the world most awful moms, and when she came home one day, she found…

…oh, I don't even want to know how scarred that girl has been, thanks to her own parents. I find it hard to believe there are parents like Raquel's. Thank god she met Matteo. No, seriously – thank god she met my loving and caring son, that would almost instantly fall in love with her and give her all the attention the girl needed so badly.

Raquel was now handing over some salad to Mia, making me smile a bit more. Just look at her now. That sheltered, insecure, lonely girl-next-door now lived her life to the fullest, a life that she had almost thrown away like junk. She loved and cared for Mia and Matteo as if they were her own family, and you know what – they were, and they should be thankful to have such a great girl like Raquel with them. I wished with all of my heart they would all have their happy life – all three of them deserved happy lives so badly, it wasn't even funny.

Mia as well. I grinned and waved my hands at Mia when she felt I was watching her, and she grinned just as broadly, more than happy to wave back. Mia was my and Lovi's first grandchild. The small girl didn't look all that much like Matteo, except for her extremely positive outlook on life and her big, hazel-colored eyes. She probably had inherited her mother's clever genes, because I knew for sure that she'd do better on most tests than her father. And surrogate-mother. Raquel wasn't stupid or slow at all, but the young woman hadn't gotten much education in her younger years and therefore, she probably never was able to show people her true potential. Mia was a sneaky, witty and nice girl, and it was a great honor to be her grandfather.

Now that I was talking about myself as a grandfather… soon, Mia wouldn't be our only grandchild anymore. I looked across the table, to see Luisa and Seb. Luisa was stuffing her face with, like, ten different kinds of food, all being chomped up just as easily as if she was eating ice cream, while Seb silently looked on with that expressionless face of his.

Ah, Luisa.

'I REALLY WILL TELL YOU!'

I sighed, smiling and trying to keep myself from becoming overcome with a weird sensation that felt a lot like sadness. I remembered. Thanks to Luisa's efforts, Lovino and I remembered. We got our memories back. All of them. From the humble beginnings to the horrible last moments of my and Lovi's lives as loving fathers. I was so grateful to… have that lovely princess as my daughter. Really. I loved her so much – her explosive personality, her deep, green eyes and her astonished, blushing face whenever somebody close to her complimented her.

Luisa didn't look all that much like me. She was like Lovi in so many ways that it sometimes both scared and amazed me. And yet, she was her very own person. She didn't like art, she didn't care about the way she looked and in comparison with her Italian father, she was a lot faster to admit to herself that she loved her boyfriend. I mean, it literally cost Lovi years, DECADES to tell me what he felt for me. Seb had to wait for a few years. Yes, that's still a long time, but… look at what person she is now!

A young, smart woman that demands the world to look at her and respect her. She's not a cute kitten you can pick up without getting scratched – but god, please DO pick her up, and experience how sweet, caring, loving and good that girl actually is once you gain her trust.

Lovi and I owe so much to her. Heck, all the personifications in this very room owe so much to her. She was one of the first nation kids to contact Venetia and set the plan Guillermo and Tosca had thought of in motion. Her action inspired many others, and just… just take a good look around us now: every single table was jammed with nations and their children, eating and having a good time.

All thanks to the stubbornness of one girl.

All thanks to my cute, little, beautiful princess.

I loved her so much.

'Yo, The A-Man.'

I rapidly blinked – to hide the fact I was tearing up – when Seb called out to me, his head cocked a bit to the side.

'The A-Man, is everything alright? You're looking pretty gloomy all of a sudden.'

I pursed my lips, as if I just took a bite out of a lemon. '…look, Seb, if you're going to call me "A-Man", please don't add "The" every time you talk to me. It's really annoying and it makes no sense. At all.'

'Okay.' Seb nodded. 'I understand. You're too cool for "The".'

'No, that's not what I'm sayi—'

'I feel you. It's decided. I'll call you Tha A-Man for now on. That's much better.'

I muffled a groan while Lovino next to me snorted. 'Yeah, Seb, you're right: Tha A-Man fits him much better. Way to go, brat!'

'Thank you very much, Mr. Romano.'

You see, that – that was the weirdest thing about that Seb: he talked to me like I was a bro from the block, while he was insanely polite and well-mannered around Lovino. Who, by the way, had now learned to enjoy that luxury and gloated teasingly at me.

My feelings concerning Seb were…

…

…well, they were still a bit conflicted, I have to say. I liked the guy, sure, I did. I saw he truly loved Luisa and I knew for sure that he would never intentionally hurt her. Even the way he suddenly yelled at her a little while back was, in a way, reassuring to me: he wasn't going to let Luisa decide on everything. He wasn't going to be a henpecked husband with no own opinion or dreams. If she went too far to his liking, he'd step in and call her out on her behavior. That was good. Luisa needed a man to clash with every now and then, it kept a relationship healthy and steady.

But he was still the Netherlands' son, and that still bothered me a little bit. Not too much, mind you, but still… well, it was just very weird. I had never expected I'd be the grandfather of a child of which he would be the grandfather as well. If you had told me a few years earlier, I'd have laughed you in the face. But it had happened, Seb had fallen for Luisa and vice versa. And you know what I made myself promise? As long as she was happy – as long as the both of them were happy – I was happy.

There. It's simple like that.

I should never, ever let my own old-fashioned idea's get the best of me like that, again.

But I shouldn't have to worry.

I sneaked a peak at the man next to me, the wonderful love of my life, who was laughing at something Matteo had said, and I breathed out, feeling comforted somewhat.

After all, I always had him around to remind me about the more important things in life.