Hey guys! I know, I know, I'm back from the dead. It has been what? Six months since I last posted but I've been really busy with school in my last semester. I plan on writing a lot more this summer but I am taking a summer class this break (that's right boys, I'm taking willingly taking a class over the summer.. I'm that lame) so I probably won't write as much as I did last summer. But I will let you know that I am almost done with the next chapter and will post within the next week so yay! Well, enough of my gib-gab. Time to get on to the actaul story.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia...
"Mein gott, can't people watch where they running nowadays?" Gilbert complained, picking up a copy of Being a Coffee Barista for Dummies. "Don't know why he's that excited to go out with him anyway... he's annoying as hell," he finished, opening up the book again as he continued walking to the cafe. Okay, he thought. Just gotta memorize the difference between a red eye, black eye, lazy eye, and uh, really? There's a drink called a "dead eye"? Now they're just making crap up. Whatever happened to a simple black coffee and from time to time, a little cream? This i- "Ommph!" The albino had been so entangled with the book that he had forgotten where he had been going and walked into the lamp post right in front of the cafe. "What the fuck is that pole doing there?!" he complained. He glared angrily while putting a hand on his now bruised forehead. "I have half the mind to-"
"Hello?" a soft, but familiar voice said, interrupting him. "Can I help you, sir? Are you okay?"
"Hmm?" Gilbert looked past the pole and saw a startled, and a slightly afraid, Matthew standing in the cafe doorway. "Oh umm, yeah. I was just giving this pole a piece of my mind. Thinking it could hit me and get away with it-" the silverette paused when he saw the blond staring at him wide-eyed and realized how crazy he sounded. "Wait, no. That's not what I meant!" he tried.
"Umm, sir? Are you sure you're okay?" the Canadian asked, stepping a little bit more inside the cafe. "Like physically and..um mentally?"
"What? No! I guarantee you I am okay," Gilbert assured, patting the post. "Old lampey and I just had a minor disagreement but it's a-okay now, trust m-oh god," he finished, cringing as he turned around. Just stop talking, just stop talking Gilbert. You're just making it worse. He probably doesn't even like you anymore. He paused. What are you talking about? You're awesome. Of course he likes you... But then again, awesomeness only goes so far, right? Right? I m- His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hand that touched his shoulder.
"Hello? Are you okay? I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, Gilly," Matthew apologized. "I didn't mean to." Nevermind, I still got it. Never doubt your awesomeness man.
"Gilly, you say?" the albino smirked.
"Hello? Are you okay? I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, Gilly?" Gilly? Nevermind, I still got it. Never doubt your awesomeness man.
"Gilly?" the albino questioned smugly, looking down at the blond as he turned around. "What? Is that your nickname for me? Revenge for Birdie?"
"What? Oh no," the Canadian blushed, adjusting his glasses. "It's just that it's easier to say than Gilbret. You know, your real name."
"I don't think that can be considering my real name is Gilbert but you know what? I'm glad you made a name for me. It can be your pet name for me. I mean, all couples have one," the silverette finished, smirking. Matthew paused for a second, not really sure what to say before breaking out in giggles.
"Oh, I get it," he said between chuckles. "You're making a joke, right? Cause we're not dating so obviously you're making one. Dear maple, I was so confused for a second." Okay then, Gilbert thought, watching Matthew as he finished laughing, maybe I don't got it.
"Oh..."the bespeckled teen sighed, letting out his laugh giggle. "You're funny, you know that? Now come on, Lovino just left so we have to get back to work," he suggested, turning around and heading towards the cafe.
"Yep," the albino gritted through his teeth, throwing his book into a nearby trashcan before following his crush into the coffee shop. "I'm just sooo funny."
This seems to be the same kind of fish that I got the other day with that annoying blond, Arthur thought, inspecting a package of fish in the frozen freezer isle at his local market. That fish and chips he taught me how to make was actually pretty good...probably the best I've ever tasted in fact... though I'd never admit that to him, of course. Okay, yep. This is most definitely the fish I got at the other market that day. Seeming satisfied, he threw the fish into the cart he had gotten before. Okay, now let's see what I have in my cart now..., he thought, looking at the array of items he had collected so far. I've got pepper and salt... apparently you need those to make a good dish but whatever...and my fish and some sweet potatoes. Okay, looks good.
He pushed his cart to the cash registers and entered the lane that seemed the shortest. He was situated behind one blond and then it was his turn. When he saw who the cashier was he wanted to get into another lane but all of the the others had at least an established line of 6 or more people waiting in them. Oh, bloody hell.
"Whoa dude, this is some high quality steak you got here," Peter noticed, scanning the meat and putting it into a grocery bag. "What? Big date tonight? Going for all the works? Mmmmm? Mmmmm?" he finished, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh hon hon, no Romeo," the customer chuckled. "Just wanted to treat myself tonight. I landed this big modeling gig today for Friday night that could really be a big boost in my career." Oh crap, I recognize that voice...That's Francis. isn't it?
"Wait, hold up bro. You're celebrating getting the biggest modeling job of your life-that may I remind you, is in two days-with a fat-filled steak?" the Sealander questioned incredulously. "Are you sure?"
"Well-"
"If I was you I would cut back on the fats and sweets, if you know what I mean?"
"Wait, quoi?" Francis asked, taken aback. "Are you insinuating that I am...fat?"
"Well, you didn't exactly hit the gym this morning did you?"
"Well, I was busy so I did-"
"A bup bup bup," Peter interrupted, raising a finger. "So that's a no. I don't need your excuses. I think I've made my point. I'll keep this fatty steak and advise you to get a sensible tuna steak instead or maybe, just a simple chicken breast," he said, taking the steak out of the grocery bag and putting it to the side.
"You bloody wanker, are you blind?" Arthur interrupted, catching both of the blonds' attention. "He's breathtakingly sexy as hell! He could eat ten of the fattiest steaks in the world and he would still only downgrade to unbelievably hot."
"Oh mon lapin, I didn't see you there," the frenchman said, grinning. "I didn't know you found me so attractive, but then, who could blame you?"
"Oh shut your stupid mouth. God, the ego on some people," the Brit groaned, rolling his eyes. "I don't find you attractive, okay? It's just a fact of life that everyone just has to deal with. You know, it's just something that is known. Like the sky is blue, bananas are yellow, Francis... I don't know your last name, the Frenchman maybe? I don't know. Francis the Frenchman is practically the sexiest man alive. See? It's not just me. How do you feel now?" he asked smugly, crossing his arms.
"Umm...pretty good actually," the Frenchman smirked. "The man I'm dating thinks I'm the sexiest man alive."
"No! I don't think that think that! It's a fact that you ar- oh." The Englishman paused. "Now I can see how that can get to your head."
"Just made sense to ya, didn't it?" Peter questioned.
"Yeah, before somehow it felt like an insult but now I see how it really wasn't," Arthur admitted.
"Same thing happens to me all the time. Trust me, it's a natural thing. Sometimes the ol' noggin ain't what it used to be, know what I mean?"
"Yes. Why just the other day I was goi- wait, wait, what the fuck?!" the Brit cried, realizing what was going on. "I'm not having small talk with you! Can't you guys just hurry up already? Now I can see why there was no one else in this line."
"Okay yeesh, wow someone's cran to the ky man. Calm down," the Sealander said, scanning the last of Francis's items. "I'm getting to it. Come's out to be $89 but I suggest you go get that chicken breast before you go."
"No, I think I will get that steak Romeo. Apparently, Arthur thinks that I'm sexy enough to have as many steaks as I want," the Frenchman smirked.
"No, I know you are," Arthur corrected. "Wait- oh bloody hell," he muttered, mentally kicking himself. Stop talking.
"Oh, you're right. Arthur knows I'm sexy no matter what and he's the only opinion I care about." The Brit raised an eyebrow.
"Really? I'm the only opinion you care about?"
"Of course. Personally, I don't think you care enough to spare my feelings and that if you thought I was hideous then you'd just flat out say it." Francis hesitated for a second. "I find that oddly endearing about you."
"Well I'm glad you find me odd then," the Englishman sneered, crossing his arms.
"So the steak, a yes or no?" Peter asked.
"Yes Romeo, it's a yes."
"Why do you keep calling him Romeo?" Arthur asked. "Even I know his name is Patrick."
"It's Peter actually," the cashier corrected, finally ringing up the steak. "Though funny story, my dad has a cousin who had a neighbor who had bumped into a guy on the street who had a french labor doodle whose previous owner was actually called Patricia, which is close to Patrick, so I understand the confusion."
"Wait, then why does your name tag say Romeo?" Francis inquired, motioning to the bronze pin on the younger blond's shirt.
"Oh, I'm just filling in for a friend of mine," the Sealander explained. "Which reminds me." He checked his wristwatch. "Yep, that's what I thought. It's 6:05 which meant his shift finished five minutes ago. I'm off the clock then." He put the grocery bag down on the counter and turned around and started to walk off.
"What the- Peter! Where are you going?!" Arthur asked, shocked. "Are you not going to finish ringing me and this frog up?"
"Nope, dude," the Sealander said, not stopping. "I have other places to be. Like my own job. Good luck." Then he left the building.
"Umm what do we do now, mon lapin?" Francis questioned, glancing at Arthur.
"Don't bloody look at me," the Brit demanded. "And stop calling that ghastly name!"
"Let me look where we're fucking going already!" Lovino yelled, tripping over yet another rock on the sidewalk. "I can't believe I let you blindfold me, I'll never make that mistake again!"
"Sorry, my pet," Antonio apologized, grabbing both of his date's shoulders and leading him forward on the path again. "I wish you'd stop fighting me though. It would make it easier for me to lead you and you'd probably stop tripping so much."
"Excuse me!" The Italian stopped abruptly, making the Spaniard bump into him. He wiped the man's hand off of him, turned around, and took off his blindfold to glare at the man. "Did you just fucking tell me to calm down, you tomato bastard?! One thing you should know about me if we're gonna do this whole "you buying me free food thing" is that you can never tell me to calm down, got it?"
"Mmhhmm," Antonio agreed, grinning profusely. "Of course Lovi! Besides, I like my date's feisty anyway," he finished smirking.
"Oh umm..." The brunette didn't really know what to say and just ended up staring down at his feet to hide his slightly pink face. He quickly realized what he was doing and took a breath to regain his composure. Lovino stared back at Antonio with his best "pissed off" face. "Well that's a bit fucked up, isn't it? And I've told you so many times, stop calling me Lovi! My name has three syllables. If you don't like it, them that's your business! You don't see me calling you freaking Anto, do you?!"
"Ummm no-"
"Exactly be-"
"But you could," the Spaniard offered with a smile, rubbing his date's arm reassuringly. "I don't mind really. In fact, I want you too. I think it's the best name ever just because you came up with it."
"Wait." The Italian's face fell. "What?"
"Yeah really. You're so amazing that you could never come up with anything bad."
"No.. no you can't be serious! Ugh," Lovino groaned, pushing Antonio's hand away from his arm. He paused to rub his temples. "I can't fucking argue with someone as cheery and positive as you! Just stop calling me that stupid-ass name!"
"Okay, okay, fine.." the happy-go-lucky brunette agreed."Lovi," he whispered.
"Wait, what was that?!"
"What was what?" Antonio asked, feigning innocence as he looked at the floor. "Lovi," he mumbled.
"That! You're like whispering that nickname at the end of your sentence!" the Italian accused, grabbing Antonio's face to make him look up at him."Stop that!"
"What? I'm not doing that.." the Spaniard argued, looking away. "Lovi," he muttered.
"What are you doing?!" the Italian brought Antonio's face closer to his so that they were two inches apart. They could literally feel each other's breath. "You are not whispering that softly, okay?! I can hear you. Are you like mental or something? Stop calling me that name?!" Antonio simply smirked a bit, staring straight into Lovino's eyes as he bit his lower lip.
"I guess I'm just a slower learner...Lovi," he teased cooly. Fuck, how'd he end up making that god-forsaken name sound sexy? He took a moment to notice how intently the brunette was staring at him. Is he undressing me with eyes or something? Just the thought was enough his whole face match the color of a tomato's which, he saw, just make Antonio's smirk bigger. How'd he turn from this unbelievably annoying and stupidly optimistic guy to an annoyingly handsome and sexy man?
Lovino felt his heart skip a beat as he noticed the Spaniard slowly move in, the man's gaze alternating between the Italian's eyes and his lips. Damn. Come on, Lovino think straight. Move away! But at that moment Antonio had decided to caress the younger brunette hair and he felt his whole body go limp. Their faces were less than an inch apart now. Stop it now, move away. He's a tomato bastard... a breathtakingly hot tomato bastard.. How'd we even end up this close anyway? We were walking and then he decided to calling me that stupid-ass nickname and I... I.. wait a second!
"Whoa, whoa, wait a second! You planned this whole thing out, didn't you?!" The Italian accused, pushing the Spaniard back with all his strength which caused him to go back a few feet. "You calling me that stupid name and me getting annoyed and me pulling you close!" Antonio regained his balance before answering.
"Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying, right?" he shrugged, grinning.
"Yes, yes I can very much! I am doing so right now for that ini fact!" Lovino cried, turning around and marching forward. "That's it! I'm not talking to you till we get to wherever it is you said you were gonna take me, and even then I still might!"
"But Lo-"
"And if you think I'm gonna let you blindfold me then not only are the most annoying person I know but you're also the goddamn stupidest!"
"Lovino," the Spaniard tried. "We're alr-"
"Where the hell of you taking me anyway?!" the Italian asked, stopping at the sidewalk ended in front of a big brick building titled, "Lorenzo's kitchen". "There's no more sidewalk and all there's is here is this building."
"That's what I was trying to tell you, Lovi," Antonio explained, running up to the brunette. "We're here," he finished, making a grand gesture at the building.
"What do you mean?" The hot-headed man looked around. "We're having dinner on a sidewalk? That's your idea of a date?"
"What? N-"
"And if we are, where is the food because I didn't see you have any?"
"Lovi, if you-"
"I mean, unless you're hiding like half a piece of bread in your shoe but do you really think I'll eat that?! I work a long ass two hour day in total and all you expect me to eat is half a piece of toe bread?!"
"Lovi, if you just let m- wait." The Spaniard paused for a second, his usual happy-go-grin changing to a face of confusion. "What? Are you.. what?"
"You're asking me what?!" the Italian questioned, astonished. "You're the one trying to feed me rotten, toe-fungus ridden bread!"
"But wait... I'm not." Antonio hesitated for a moment, thinking about his next words wisely so he wouldn't set the shorter man off again. "We're going inside Lorenzo's kitchen."
"Oh... well, I guess that works too," Lovino shrugged, walking up the steps in front of the building and he was about to enter when he noticed Antonio wasn't behind him. He turned and saw him just standing, looking a bit bewildered. "Come on!" he ordered, motioning the older man to follow him. "I'm starving and you're paying."
So what you guys think? Please leave your comment in a form of a review! Ta ta for now guys!
