Ciao! How are you? Before to start I have to thank you all. Thank you very much for reading my story! I am doing all my best to improve my writing skills and I hope you like it so far.
In the last chapter I forgot to translate the title, where was my head? Thank you LilDeadKitty for letting me know that. By the way it means Saint Lorenz night. I think that is a magical night since a lot of shooting stars can be seen. Last year my friend and I stayed up all night waiting for one but we didn't have any luck, damn light pollution!
A special thanks goes also to GuardianAthens, Fezzes64 (you asked me if the story will follow the HRE theory, right? Well, I don't want to spoil anything so continue to read if you want to know :) ), forever.s130 and to PridexWretchedluver4ever. Thank you very much!
Chapter 3: Spain's idea
What did I just do?
Romano was seated on the porch. He couldn't stop himself from replaying in his mind again and again what he had told to his brother few minutes before. He had been too mean to the young boy, he acknowledged that. He was his fratello. Some nations had brothers but the two of them were special, they had a unique bond. They were the two faces of the same medal, they were both Italy. When one of them felt something, the other one felt it too and right then the Italian could perceive hurt and sadness. His head throbbed. The migraine was worsening, concealing for a fragment of second the sense of guilt that was growing inside him. He hid his face in the palms of his hands and sighed.
I can't just go inside and tell him 'I was joking idiota!' and act as if nothing happened. What a really shitty day has been today!
After some more sighs, Romano rose and turned to face the door.
But also I can't leave things as they are. It bothers me to admit it but I need some advice since I'm not so good at apologizing… I'll go ask Spain, even if sometimes I just want to punch him right in the guts.
Settled that, he went to the garage. His red Vespa ET4 was waiting for him in a corner, near his brother's red Ferrari. Luckily he had remembered to refuel it the day before. The young boy wore his coordinated helmet and a pair of goggles. Nations could be very fast when they travel around the world so a clear vision was absolutely needed. He mounted the motorcycle and then turned the keys. The engine came to life, growling happily.
Let's go!
He hit the accelerator and quickly move away from the house. In mere seconds the motorcycle reached and passed its maximum speed. A normal one wouldn't have been able to do such thing but that wasn't a normal one. It belonged to a nation and with nations the laws of the physics and mechanics didn't always work. Easily he avoided the other cars and went straight to the shortest road that lead to the Spaniard. Air hit his face and his curl in the process, giving him chills even if it wasn't cold. It was a strange feeling. Romano made a huge turn to the left and entered in an abandoned country road. No one ever used it, apart from a few peasant and their tractors. Crickets around him were emitting loud noises, almost topping the growl of the engine. It was so peaceful that the boy got lost in his thoughts.
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Five hours later he was knocking at Spain's house front door, the headache completely gone.
"Spain move your fat ass and let me in!" shouted Romano while punching the wood. "I need to ask you something!". No response. Scowling he pressed his index finger on the bell and kept on holding it. "SPAIN! YOU BETTER OPEN THE DOOR!".
Some mutterings could be heard from the inside and seconds later a sleepy Spaniard opened the door. He seemed surprised to see the Italian.
"R-Roma? What are you doing here? Did you have a nightmare?" he asked scratching his eyes.
"Wh-what?! No!" he became completely red. At this Spain smiled and Romano, annoyed, added "Are you going to stand there smiling like an idiot or do you intend to let me in?"
"Oh sorry pequeño tomate! Please enter and make yourself comfortable."
The tallest gestured him to enter and so he did. He reached the living room and sat down on the sofa, the other followed him. "So Roma, what brings you here at this time of the night?"
"Well…" Oh come on Romano, you can do it! The boy clenched his fists and cleared his throat. "I've come here to ask you for - ". A noisy rumble interrupted him.
"Don't tell me you came here to ask me for food!" Spain exclaimed laughing. "Follow me into the kitchen, I'll prepare you something." He stood up and went to the kitchen.
"Sp-Spain wait! This isn't the reason I came here!" he tried to explain but the other was gone.
Damn!
So he did what he was told and found the Spaniard with his head in the fridge.
"I have some fresh milk, do you want any?" he inquired, turning to face his guest who was sitting at the counter. "I think I have also cereals. A midnight snack, what do you think?"
"Whatever."
To tell the truth he was starving. The day before he had hardly eaten anything, so he was glad of the offer even if he didn't show it. In front of him, few minutes later, Spain placed a bowl full of milk and cereals. He grabbed the spoon next to it and slowly started to eat.
"What is the real cause of your arrival?" asked the older preparing a coffee for himself. "Don't take me in the wrong way but is not like you to pounce here in the middle of the night."
Before answering, Romano finished his little snack. It took him some time. "Spain, have you ever regretted something you had said?"
That caught the boy off guard but he replied. "Of course I have tomate! Who hasn't?". Then he grabbed a chair and sat down in front of him. He sipped from his coffee mug. "What happened?"
Romano sighed and put on a dead serious face. "I had this terrible day and I told Veneziano some terrible things. Now I am regretting every word I said."
"And why are you here?"
"Are you deaf perhaps? I had - "
"No, no. I mean, why are you here and not with your brother?" Spain interrupted. "I think you should tell him how you felt. Veneziano loves you and I am sure he will forgive you no matter of what." He gave him a reassuring smile.
"A-are you sure? I had told him crap, I don't think he would forgive me easily…" asked the young Italian. It was rare for him being like that, so insecure, but when it came to brotherly matters it happened and the only one who knew that side of his personality was the smiling Spaniard in front of him.
"Of course I am!" he exclaimed then he stood up. "Come with me."
"Where?" he was puzzled.
"To Rome. You are going to apologize to my little Vene!"
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For the second time that night he was riding his beloved Vespa. The only difference was the boy behind him. Apparently said boy had convinced him to go back home to apologize to his brother. It was amazing the influence he had on him. No one else would have been able to tell him what he had to do without bruises. And he didn't have any.
"Spain, we need to stop at the petrol pump but I don't have any money with me."
"But Roma!" he pouted even if he couldn't be seen. "All right, I'll pay but only this time, claro?"
Satisfied, Romano nodded. It took them twenty minutes before they found one. At that time they were in France's territory, almost at the border with Italy. They stopped and stretched.
"Mmmh Roma, aren't you tired?" asked Spain with his arms on his helmet.
"No, not at all" he lied and the bags under his eyes were the proof. "Go to refuel. I think fifty euros would be enough."
"Fifty euros? My pequeño tomate, isn't it too much?" inquired the tallest.
"If you have complaints go make them to the oil companies."
Spain pouted again. "Okay, okay, I'm going!" he said surrendering and started to actually refuel the motorcycle. "By the way, I was serious before. If you are tired I can drive." he offered.
"No, I don't need to sleep right now, I don't want to. I'll sleep when I fix this situation."
"Stubborn as always, aren't you?"
Romano snorted.
Few minutes passed in silence. "Okay, I've finished. We can - " he paused. "Roma, look! The sun is rising! Isn't it wonderful?" exclaimed an over-excited Spaniard, pointing at the sun.
"Yes, what a romantic scenery. The sunrise at the petrol pump…" he said sarcastically. Spain went to hug the boy. "BUT! This isn't a normal petrol pump mi querido, this is a French one! Can't you see the flowers blossom around us?"
"Seriously Spain, you should quit to see that snail-eater."
The older one smiled and gave a quick peck on his check. Then, before he could be beaten up, he mounted on the motorcycle. "Are we going or not?" he asked laughing.
Romano, face completely red, yelled some obscenities at his friend. What he gained were only more laughs. "Imbecille!" he muttered under his breath.
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The sun was high in the sky when they reached their destination. Romano parked his Vespa in the garage and then opened the front door, finally letting them to enter. Everything was as he had left the evening before. On the kitchen counter there was the pizza dough that Veneziano was working on.
He hadn't ever finished to do it…
"Spain, I don't think that a simple 'I'm sorry' would fix it this time…" he said looking sadly at the beige dough.
"What time is it?" asked the other innocently.
His usual scowl appeared instantly. "Why the fuck are you asking me this?" growled the Italian. "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?"
"Please Roma, answer me." Spain placed his hands on the younger's shoulder. "I've got an idea but I need to know what time is it." he pleaded.
Reddening at the gesture he answered. "It's a quarter to ten."
"And at what time does Veneziano usually get up?"
"At half past ten. Why do you need to know this shit?"
The older boy didn't reply. Instead he grabbed the white apron hanged on the wall next to him and threw it at his friend. "As I said, I have an idea. Hurry up, we have only forty-five minutes."
What does Spain have in mind? Eh eh eh… I think you already know. For what concerns my choice of Romano's Vespa, well I passed almost half an hour surfing in the net before deciding the model. When I saw the ET4 I said "That's what I was searching for!". I think it suits him well. By the way here we go with the translations:
Fratello: brother.
Idiota: idiot.
Pequeño tomate: little tomato.
Tomate: tomato.
Claro: clear.
Mi querido: my dear.
Imbecille: imbecile.
