"Hola mi tomato*!" Spain yelled as he burst through the door of he and S. Italy's 3 room apartment. "Don't fucking call me that you perverted cunt!" Romano screamed oh so angerly. Romano was secretly happy he was back, but he didn't want to admit it, because ya know those southern Italians. Spain frowned, a frown so sad it'd make you wanna jump off a bridge. "Aww, why'd you call me that mi amor*?" Romano almost smacked the absolute passion out of that annoying Spaniard with the AMAZING backside. I mean like SERIOUSLY! HAVE YOU SEEN DAT ASS?-Datassiconhereplz- "Don't call me that you cazzo di merda*!" Spain tilted his head, "I'm sorry I don't speak French." then he smiled as if he thought Romano said...other things...Romano didn't have anything else to say to him. He simply got up and left. Spain was quite used to this and always knew he'd come back. Everytime Spain was right, had a point, or simply did nothing wrong he would up and leave. This was a daily routine for the Spaniard and didn't think much of it.
Poor Spain, if only he knew he wasn't coming back home this time...
Hola mi tomato! - Hello my tomato!
Mi amor - My love
Cazzo di merda - Dickfaced piece of shit(MAY NOT BE ACCURATE MKAYTHANKS)
Im so damn lazy. CHAPTER 3 WON- I MEAN WILL BE LONGER.