"Bastard! Put me down!"
Gilbert looked up from his cards and raised an eyebrow at Francis, "Did you just hear something?"
"If you're trying to distract me from the fact that I'm winning it won't work."
He scoffed, rearranging his cards, "Of course not. I don't need to stoop to that level. Awesome people always come from behind!"
"Jackass! Oblivious creeper!"
Francis blinked, "Is that what you heard?"
"Uh-huh," Gilbert picked up another card from the pile, "Sounds kinda familiar, doesn't it?"
"I said let GO!"
Both nations looked up from the couch as Antonio walked into the room, smiling as if he didn't have a raging Italian slung over his shoulder. Said Italian was kicking and swearing, but still unable to free himself from Antonio's grasp.
"Hi guys!" Antonio said cheerily, walking through the living room.
"Dammit Antonio! Put me down right now!"
Gilbert smirked and leaned forward in an attempt to see Francis' cards, "Hey, Antonio. I thought you said you were going fishing."
The Spaniard smiled, and his grip around Lovino visibly tightened, "I did."
Francis laughed, perfectly immune to the daggers Lovino was throwing at him with his eyes, "And quite a cute catch you've got there. I don't suppose you'd mind sharing with an old friend?"
"Sorry, Francis. This one is all mine."
Waving a hand over his head, Gilbert sneered at his cards. Shitty game, "Okay, just don't forget to put a sock or something over the door knob. I don't want to walk in on anything."
Lovino paled, "WHAT?! What the hell is that supposed to mean?! ANTONIO!"
Chuckling, Francis watched as they headed up the stairs, "Maybe I should do a little fishing of my own."
"Oh, no you don't!" Gilbert slammed his fist down onto the sofa, which wasn't as impressive as he thought it would be, "If you leave it's an automatic forfeit! And I win! HAHA!"
Francis rolled his eyes, "Fine, it's your turn, isn't it?"
Gilbert nodded, "Got any eights?"