Newwwww story with the Italian Brothers x3 omg omg omg omg! I hope you like the first chapter, sorry its kinda short, the next chapter wont be though! xD Enjoy.

-Emy

You were best friends with a total ditz. How it worked out for you, you had no idea. Italy was so bubbly and energetic, it drained your battery. You thought day after day why. And then it smacked you in the face like the baseball did to Canada when he played ball with America. He looked so much like his brother, Romano. No, you weren't using Italy to get to his brother; you actually liked Italy to much to do such a thing to him.

Ever since you could remember, you were always paired with one of the Italy's. When you were younger, you were with Romano all the time, and living with Spain. But as you grew, Romano's interest in you seemed to fade, and you became friends with his brother. You watched him grow up, and he seemed to have interest in any female with two legs, other than yourself.

Italy told you almost every day that you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and that his brother was an idiot not to see it. Yes, it made you smile like a weirdo, but it only made you wish Romano would notice you again like when you were kids. Italy's reassurances of your beauty and the constant flirting with you, also made you realize you were falling quickly for him.

You slammed your head against the wood of your table as you took a deep breath in. Goddamn Italians. Making women fall in love to quickly, making them confused, and lost. Just thinking about the brothers gave you a severe headache, but you couldn't push them out of your head. Brown eyes watched as the more bubbly part of the nation poured a large pot of pasta into the sink to drain the water. You smiled softly.

"Italy..." He turned and looked at you, "Thanks for inviting me over."

"You're welcome Ella~. I would have been lonely without you~!" He smiled sweetly.

You returned the sweet smile before sitting up straight and streaching. "It's just me and you? I thought you'd invite Germany over or something."

"No silly It's not just us! But it's not Germany either."

Your ears perked up, "Then who is it?"

"Damnit Feliciano, why did you want me to come over right now?" The much deeper, Italian accented voice yelled as the front door slammed shut.

Oh. Crap. You took one look at the frame of the door and wanted to run all the way to China, even if it meant going over creepy Russia. There stood the darker haired brother, arms crossed on his chest, his usual scowl on his face.

"I wanted you to have dinner with us ve~ were having pasta~!"

You couldn't help but stare at him. You honestly hadn't seen him lately, so you had to stare. He pulled the chair across from you out and sat down in it.

"What the hell are you staring at?" he nearly growled at you.

You were taken back. He seemed so cold towards you. "N-nothing." You said and focused on the cherry-wood of the table.

Just then, Italy sat the bowl of pasta onto the table, as well as a smaller dish full of red tomato sauce. Well crap. You could just tell right then that this dinner was going to be the most tense dinner in all the world.