The next afternoon everyone finally got up. Germany was not used to waking up so late in the day and began to worry that his sleeping schedule would get thrown off. He was up late the night before . . . preoccupied with something. Then there was the incident with Romano. And he also promised Italy that they would do that tonight.
Germany also hadn't trained for a couple of days. He felt lazy and worried that he would fall behind. He would have to start again soon.
He put down the book he was reading and rubbed his eyes. Crap, I wasn't focusing. Now I have to go back and re-read. He flipped the page over and started again.
Italy came bouncing back into the living room and flopped on the couch, practically on Germany. He snuggled closer in Germany's lap, earning a low, irritated groan from the blonde.
"Feliciano, I'm reading." He protested against the actions.
"You can continue, I don't mind."
"That's not what I meant-"
"You look so sexy with your glasses." Italy interrupted. He reached up and placed his hand on the side of Germany's cheek, stroking his thumb across his features. "Really." Germany placed his book beside the table and ran his fingers through the dark locks. Italy seemed to purr and Germany leaned down to kiss him.
Italy took his hand that was previously on the Germans face and moved it to his neck to pull him in closer. Opening his mouth, he allowed Germany to push further in and occasionally slip his tongue in. Italy moaned.
Germany brought his hand down and rubbed it along his torso. In essence, he pushed Italy away until his lips were just brushing against the pleading Italians.
"Tonight." Germany simply whispered against the lips. Italy smiled.
"Okay, that's fair. I actually came in here to tell you that dinner is almost ready."
"Good," he kissed him again, "because I'm starving."
"Me too! I'm going to go get Romano and bring him down. Then we'll eat."
"Okay." Italy lept off the couch, running upstairs to get his brother. Germany got up to go into the kitchen, stretching and deeply inhaling the scent of what was likely pasta. However, he was interrupted when the front door burst open. Prussia stomped through the threshold of the house, announcing his arrival cheerfully.
"The awesome Prussia has returned home!" Germany sighed, closing his eyes. And probably with his shoes on and tracking in dirt. "And he's brought a friend!" Germany's head shot up, shocked. A friend? Prussia found Germany in the living room, walking in with a slum looking Spain.
"Prussia . . . that's right. You were coming home today." Prussia seemed put off by this.
"Of course I was. I can't believe you forgot. Germany, out of all people."
"It's just that . . . Spain . . . Romano . . ."
"Sh! Why the hell would you mention-" Prussia began, but was quickly cut off when Italy and Romano both entered the living room.
Spain and Romano both looked at each other. Nobody said anything. It was awkward as neither of them acknowledged anyone's appearance in the room accept for each others.
It was as if the other was the ghost of someone lost from long ago. Neither could understand, neither could believe it. It was too unreal. Just the other day Romano was fleeing in a fit of jealousy from Spains house and now here he was. And to Spain, he did nothing but think of the man staring right at him from the moment he cut him out of his life, and now here was.
"R-roma?" Romano's features hardened. "Is . . . you're here. Why are you here?" Romano's lip curled into a snarl at the question.
"You cut me out of your life like that. You send me through hell and you ask that kind of fucking question! What kind of fucking question is that?!" He spat.
"Romano . . ." But Romano wouldn't have it. He ran off, back upstairs. Italy called after him, chasing him up the stairs until he had the door shut right in his face. They could all hear him, trying to reason with him and get him to open the door, to no avail.
"West, why is Romano here? Why on earth would you . . .? I told you I was bringing Spain here and you brought him here anyway. Do you care about either of them?" Prussia pestered his brother with questions. Germany gave Spain a quick glance, turning his head to not face either of them. In a calm, but serious and almost accusing tone he said,
"I didn't have a choice. He was coming here anyway, from where, I don't know. Then a couple of hours later we got a phone call that he had crashed his car and needed to be retrieved." Spain's eyes widened with fear for the well being of the hot headed Italian. He went to ask, but Germany continued. "As you can see he's alright. Still a little shaken up about whatever it is he was running from."
"Still, you could have given a guy a warning."
"I forgot. And usually people call the day that they're coming over and don't rely on others memories when it comes to these sort of matters." Italy came back downstairs with a solemn look on his face. He had tears in his eyes. Germany went to him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder.
"Romano's locked himself in his room." This time he pulled Italy into a full hug as he cried harder into his chest. "I thought I could finally get him to eat something, but he . . . I'm not good at this. What kind of person can't take care of their own brother when they need it?"
"Sh, it's okay." Germany said, patting the weeping man on the shoulder.
Spain could only watch in horror. Because of my stupidity I've caused so much unnecessary conflict. I never meant to hurt Romano. No, those were not my intentions. I didn't want to be strung along. I didn't want the pain. And I didn't think that it would hurt others. Not just France and Prussia who've given their hand and foot to take care of me, but also Italy and Germany. All because of my petty need to get Romano to admit that he loves me. I'm an ass.
"I'm sorry." Spain muttered. "I never meant for any of this to happen." Italy wiped his eyes, lifting his head off of Germany's shoulder.
"That's alright, Spain. It's not your fault. Why don't we go eat? I'll try to bring something up to Romano later on. Come on, I made enough for everyone." Italy said, but he sounded no where as cheerful as he normally did when he was talking about food.
"That sounds like a good idea. It makes no sense to stand here and grieve over something as silly as a feud between two people. Romano will come out eventually, all we have to do is wait for when that happens. Come on." Reluctantly, they all gathered into the kitchen.
Spain couldn't tear his mind off of Romano. The whole time he spent feeling sorry about himself, he hadn't realised that Romano was the one who was truly having the worst of it. He pushed his food around, not really in the mood to eat, despite how delicious the few bites he had of it were. God, I'm an idiot.
"I wonder what set him off." Spain heard Germany say when he finally tuned back in on the conversation.
"You're telling me he wasn't like this when you went to go and visit him, Italy?" Prussia asked.
"No. I mean, I knew that he was acting down and weird, but he wasn't as bad as he is now."
"Did he ever tell you where he went when he left?" Germany put in.
"No, he told me not to follow him or ask. I just wish I knew where he went and what made him act so crazy." Germany waved a hand,
"Whatever it is it'll have to wait until Romano is ready to tell us." Germany got up, grabbing the dishes and bringing them to the sink. Italy joined him in cleaning.
Spain pushed out his chair from underneath him forcefully, causing everyone to look at him. He cleared his throat.
"I'm going to my room. Good night." Everyone looked a little shocked. It was so early for anyone to be going to bed. But by the look on Spains face, nobody really wanted to question it.
"Uh . . . yeah. Buona notte." Italy mumbled.
Spain walked upstairs and towards the guest bedrooms. There were only three of them. One on either side of the hall and one located right at the end of it. He could only guess which one Romano was in. He made his way towards it, letting his hand hover over the nob. Everything was telling him to try and open it, to make amends and put this hellish week and a half behind him. But what would he say?
He couldn't. He backed away and walked into one of the empty guest bedrooms. He flopped down on the bed, closing his eyes and letting the quietness and darkness engulf him and lull him into a deep sleep. Everything was quiet.
Until he heard a faint sniffle of a cry coming from the other room.