Monica rubbed her forehead, sighing.

"So you've isolated yourself from everyone else, totally trashed your house, made a fool out of yourself, and now you're calling me a bitch?" She glared at Lovino, trying her best to stop herself from going up to the man and strangle him.

He laughed wearily, popped his knuckles. "Signora Bossy Bitch Potato-Eater, do you even know what's been going on?"

"You've been acting like an ass and have been skipping world meetings."

Lovino sat down in the chair across from her. "Maybe I have."

Could he at least pretend to be sorry? Monica groaned, checking her watch. It was almost 11:30, and she was starting to get tired. "So tell me exactly, why've you been acting stupider than usual as of late?"

He crossed his arms. "Why should I tell you? You'd probably make fun of me like the damn potato-eater you are."

Before Lovino could realize what was going on, Monica was in his face, grapping his shirt collar, pulling it tight. "Stop calling me that! And why should you tell me? Because your brother's been worried sick; crying almost every night because you won't contact him! The entire structure of the world meetings have been disrupted; I get migraines every time you miss one because there's no point in a meeting without an organized structure! Spain's been sulking and sleeping through almost every meeting, and nothing's been accomplished!"

He chuckled nervously, trying to swat her hands away from his neck. "Let go of me and I'll tell you."

She reluctantly eased her grip on his collar.

Taking a breath of relief, Lovino leaned back into the couch. "Antonio broke up with me."

Monica was speechless. "Nein, there's no way that would happen.."

"Well it did! And honestly, I have no idea why!" He rubbed his eyes. Don't cry, Lovino. Not in front of the potato-eater. Not now. Never cry, you idiota.

Monica coughed. "Sorry about that, Lovino."

Now it was his turn to be in her face. "Sorry? Sorry! You have no idea what I've been going through and all you can say is sorry? Idiota, I died that day."

Meanwhile, in Madrid, a very upset Feliciano was eating paella with Antonio. "So, exactly what happened between you two, fratellone?"

Antonio sighed, taking another bite. "I don't know, Feli. It's just that I don't want to deal with Lovino always insulting me. It really hurts the self-esteem, y'know?"

"Si!" Feliciano nodded rapidly, but sighed. "But Lovino loves you a lot, Antonio! Like a lot a lot! Probably just as much as I love Monica!"

"I know, Feli. But that's what bugs me; I love him. I mean, I loved him, but there are just times in life where you have to get over things and move on. I think that this was one of those times."

Feliciano took another bite of paella. Thought for a moment. "If that's how you feel, I guess I have to support you, ve. But I really want you to rethink your feelings, Antonio, please. I love Lovino and I love you too, but he's hurting really bad, and I don't know how to help him. I think you're the only one who can."

Antonio let out an exasperated sigh and rocked back on his chair. "Feliciano, I can't. I honestly can't be near him right now. I need some time to think. And besides, him and I are a lost cause, can't you see?"

"No."

He was, for the first time, starting to get angry with the Italian. "Feliciano, you can't fix what's broken. It's like trying to put dead petals back on a rose. It won't work."

Feliciano looked down. "I think I'll be going, ve."

"Feliciano, it's almost midnight. I don't even think the train runs at this time of night."

"I'll walk if I have to."

"Feli, that's dangerous. You can stay at my place for the night if you want to."

The Italian stared at the Spaniard for a long time, a cold, unreadable expression on his face. "Grazie, but I'll get a hotel room."

"If you insist."

"So, what happened with you, bella?" Feliciano was sitting on a plush hotel bed, twirling the telephone wire around his forefinger.

Monica sighed, she had been offered a spare room at Lovino's house and was going to stay there for the night; leaving as soon as she woke up the next morning. "Lovino's trashed his house, and is in a sour mood, as usual."

"O-oh. Did he tell you about what happened?"

"About him and Antonio breaking up? Yeah, he did. Did you talk to Antonio, by the way?"

"Si! But I think he's mad at me or something."

She was quiet for a moment, hearing Lovino pacing the hallways. Monica lowered her voice to a whisper. "Why?"

"I told him that he should talk to Lovino again, and then I left without saying goodbye."

"Ah. Well, I'm sure he'll get over it eventually."

"I hope so, ve."

Monica rolled over onto her side. "I have to go, Feliciano. The train leaves early tomorrow morning and I don't want to miss it."

"Okay, ciao-ciao!"

"Gute Nacht, liebe." She hung up the phone and was about to drift off to sleep when there was a quiet knock at the bedroom door. "What do you want?"

A pause, some shaky breaths. "I'm sorry for being an ass, potato-eater."

"It's fine."

"Night."

"Gute Nacht, Lovino."

{{ sidenote because someone asked -

Monica = Fem!Germany

yep }}