Chapter 16: In which the Boys Have the whole Chapter to Discuss their Feelings
Since I am Prussia the Awesome, I get to go first! So where does an awesome person like me even begin? Well I should start on the day after Melinda was beaten to a pulp by Belarus (damn bitch). Of course I actually wasn't all that concerned about her, but she'd like me better if I came to see her. It's all part of my awesome plan.
After I had eaten my awesome breakfast of awesome eggs, I hopped to the dollar store to grab the girl some ice cream. She likes ice cream, so imagine the look in her face when she sees me giving some to her-not that I like her smile or anything, it's just good for the awesome plan. "Hey old man!" I called, walking into the office. "The awesome me is here!"
Roman Empire scowled at me, one very similar to that of the Stupid Drunk's. "Gilbert, you're going to have to come back another time," he said, trying to push me back through the door.
"Why? Can't take the awesomeness that is me?" I asked in all complete seriousness.
He finally manged to push me through and closed the door behind him. "Only family and dorm mates are allowed to visit right now."
I frowned. "But she's my girlfriend!"
"You'll have to wait," he said again, returning back inside.
I was left there in the hall, feeling incredibly disappointed. I seriously wanted to see her-you know, for the plan! And I had also brought this big ass tub of ice cream! What am I suppose to do now, eat it? I sighed and started to make my way to the park. Eating it would have to do. And besides, I haven't been to the park in forever, which is really shocking.
When the school was open only to countries, I would go to that awesome tree there every day and just spend hours doing whatever. Now that I think about it, it wasn't until this school year started did I actually spend complete days on the school campus. That is really un-awesome.
I laid there, under the tree, eating away at the ice cream. It was just plain vinilla, not even the french kind (the idea of eating french ice cream reminds me of this one time I came back to the dorm and Francis was laying naked on the floor with nothing but an ice cream carton over his head-the dude was completely sober, by the way). Did I mention that the ice cream wasn't half bad?
I can actually see why she eats this stuff all the time, it's nearly as good as beer-nearly. It's funny, sitting here under the tree thinking about beer and drunk Francis makes me remember the last time I was here. It was September-I think-and I had just been dozing a bit when Melinda just randomly shows up. I can't really remember what I was thinking about at the time; all I know is that one minute I'm letting her play with Gilbird, and the next she's hugging me after giving me a life lesson.
Seriously, it was weird. It's so weird that I can't stop thinking about it! The way she was seemingly able to understand by feelings and relate to them herself. Like a therapist-not that Ludwig had ever thrown me in therapy, I mean, therapy is for crazy saps! But her being a Canadian therapist isn't what I keep thinking about. It was when she hugged me.
I have hugged like hundreds of women, and each time it's the same: press them closer to you, enjoy the feeling of their body against yours (especially the boobs), and then move you hand downwards (If you catch my drift). But when Mel hugged me, I was afraid that she would let go and leave me. So I held her tight to my chest, scared that her very existence was only in my grasp. Hell, I wasn't even concerned about the boob part! It was like just for that one moment, the world consisted of just the two of us.
"Hey Gilbert, glad I found you!" I groaned at the voice. Not him, I do not want to talk to anyone right now, especially him and Francis. "I know what you're thinking and all I can say is Francis is not here with me."
Damnit! I hate it when he does that! "Alright Antonio," I muttered, keeping my eyes closed. "You have 2 minutes of my awesome time."
He sat down next to me crossed legged. "I just want to ask you about yesterday."
"What about it?"
"Well it's just that you seemed really concerned about Ottawa."
I sighed. "Yeah, and?"
"And I found that odd, considering the fact that your plan is still in motion. Unless . . ." he trailed off, an action that really pisses me off.
I scowled and opened my eyes. "Damnit Antonio! Just spit it out!"
"Unless the plan isn't in action anymore."
I laughed. "Why wouldn't it be in action anymore? It's an awesome one that I came up with myself!"
"Because you love her."
"Melinda you idiot! The girl who's sitting in the hospital right now because she got kidnapped on your date!"
"Are you blaming me for what happened?"
"Are you?" He glared me down, challenging me to deny it. Look, I would love to point out that most of the people involved blamed themselves in one form or another. But because I am awesome, I know better than to think that.
"Hell no, there's no way I could possibly blame myself for what happened!"
"Well then, do you love her?"
"Yes-no! I mean-" I groaned, burying my face in my hands. I hate it when he tricks me like that. "I have no fucking idea!"
Spain sighed and leaned against the tree, telling me to calm down. After a minute of taking deep breaths (a remedy prescribed by Dr. Antonio), I was finally in a mellow state. "Okay, where do we start?" He wondered out loud. Oh Gott, is he really going to help me? "Let's start with how your body reacts when you see her."
"Um okay . . ." Only un-awesome people would start at such an awkward topic. "Well my heart beat picks up a little and I get really ho-"
"Alright!" he said, clapping his hands together. "That was going awkward places a little too quickly. How would you describe her?"
"Yeah, like, her hair." I thought for a second. "And God help you if you use the word awesome."
Damn him. "Well it's really soft, and it smells really nice," I said. "I kinda like how it frames her face. It makes her look really aw-" Spain shot me a glare. "-cute."
"And how do you feel knowing that she's in the clinic right now?"
"A little bad I guess. I mean, it wasn't very awesome of me to not realize that she was in trouble. And when she was gone, I got so mad at her-like it kinda hurt-that I didn't even think that something was wrong."
Antonio nodded, taking time to think it over for a second. "You heart beats picks up when you see her, you think that she looks cute, and you feel guilty for what happened . . ." He gave it another second of thought. "I know what you are."
"Say it," I demanded. "Say it out loud."
"You're in love."
It was silent for a second. "Seriously? That's the best you got?"
"Yeah, all the evidence points to it." He stood, ready to walk away.
"But I'm not in love with her!" I yelled.
He looked down at me with his evil look. Many of you may not know this, but Spain is similar to Russia in the sense that he's two faced. The other countries just see him as a relatively stern guy to all but Romano, but he's truthfully very evil sometimes. "Prove it."
I got to my feet. "How?"
"Go through with your plan, and soon." He started to walk away, waving good bye to me like a cool guy. Come on, you have to admit, the guy was badass when he wanted to be!
I bit my lip. That was totally not awesome of him! I grabbed my ice cream and began marching off to some other place. There was no way I would do something as stupid as fall in love.
Cause I'm awesome like that. Right?
I woke up the next morning very early. Like, it must have been around 5 am; kind of early. I went over the events of yesterday for what must have been the twentieth time. Why does my sister have to get in the way of absolutely everything in my life? I thought irritably.
It was true though: Belarus always ruined absolutely every relationship I'd ever tried to have. A couple of years ago, when I'd tried to become friends with Italy and Romano, Belarus came in behind me and must've done something to scare the shit out of both of them. We had been so close to becoming allies too-pft, not like I was scaring them or anything.
Poor Ella, she was in such a bad spot . . . We couldn't get remotely close to each other without Natalia coming to get her or her friends. Why couldn't they take care of themselves like she could? Ella was always rushing off to save them or to help them with something. It was very endearing actually. If there is one thing I valued, it was loyalty. Even if directed in the wrong direction, there was pride in loyalty. That was one reason I like the Baltic states. Even if they never liked me much, they always worked hard.
I took the necklace from underneath the collar of my shirt and looked at it for a while. The golden circle with its fierce face . . . for some reason, even when she first gave it to me, the metal itself felt warm. It's kind of like her- always warm. I haven't taken it off willingly since she first gave it to me. I took it off only to shower, but it felt unnatural, almost wrong without it. It was a comfortable weight there against my chest, always there, like I know Ella will be. I turned it over in my hands and looked at the description. I still had no idea what it meant. Was it even in Spanish? What if it was in ancient Aztec or something? How was i ever supposed to figure out what it meant? maybe I should ask her...
I was so ecstatic that MY beloved capital returned his feelings. She wasn't seem to be affected by me as most others were. She was so cute, always smiling~ except when she was about to hurt someone, then she just looked absolutely murderous; I smiled at this. That girl could really wield a pipe. No one else appreciated its worth as a weapon, but I was really glad I gave it to her, she puts it to good use. Its such a shame I can't be with her openly, I would be proud to have a girl like that on my arm, strong and . . . so cute and such a good kisser . . .
There was a small click-the sound of the door being unlocked-as my door opened. The slight form of Lithuania stumbled into my room. What was he doing h-oh, right: he has my dry-cleaning . . .
He looked straight at me and flinched a little before squeaking, "I brought your clothes from the laundry, Mr. Russia!" He obediently laid my clothes on my bed before asking, "What are you doing up so early?"
Then I looked at the clock on my bedside table; it was seven AM . . . how long had I been thinking? I let out a little sigh: this isn't the first time I'd lost track of time thinking of that beautiful green eyed capital.
"Just doing some thinking Toris . . ." I watched as Toris began to flit about cleaning things or fixing up others. I thought back to that time when I'd thought Ella and Liet here were together . . . a ridiculous thought really. They still hung out together though. It was well known that in their free time, Mexico City, Egypt and Lithuania were like a trio of hired mercenaries, doing peoples' dirty work when they were bored. I wonder how close they had gotten . . .
I finally arrived at Ivan's room, glad because his massive clothes were really heavy. I unlocked the door like I always did when I brought his laundry, and imagine my surprise when I saw him awake there. I squeaked so loud I sounded like Latvia. Yea, not my proudest moment. But its weird, Ivan is never awake this early: he enjoys sleeping in almost all the time. Maybe something was bothering him? When I asked about it, he told me he had been thinking. That's curious, most things never trouble him enough to interrupt precious sleep, something must be very wrong . . .
I set about cleaning things up like I usually do on weekends. I mean, I'm not technically a slave anymore, but it wouldn't do to get on Russian's bad side. I was rather startled when he asked me a question from his spot on his bed: "So, Lithuania," he began, "What's with you and Mexico City?"
I stumbled, a blush staining my face, and quickly looked away. "What do you mean by that?" So many thoughts flooded my head at that moment, before I realized that he probably didn't mean . . . like, me with Mexico City if you know what I mean.
"Have you been in contact with her lately?"
I sighed, considerably calmer than I had been a few seconds ago. "Well, I guess so. We still go out on our little missions together with Gupta occasionally, you know, whenever the situation arises." I said, trying to steer the conversation away.
"Is it fun to do things like that Lithuania?" His tone was scaring me now, he looked almost hungry for information. I recognized my predicament: he was trying to find something out. Knowing this, I'm pretty sure he would succeed because I am pretty damn scared . . .
I thought back to our many misadventures. In every one, we always had a hoot. In truth, the three of us had actually grown quite close. Gupta, with his constant stoicism and witty remarks no one usually gets to hear; Ella, with her crazy (and sometimes adorable) antics. I don't understand it myself, but I am sometimes scared of Ella, but then again, sometimes were the best of buds . . . Her anger has never been aimed at me though, and I'm very grateful of that. It inspired an odd feeling in me, being with her. Like I always need to keep her happy-I sometimes felt like that for Ivan, but that was in fear of my life. With Ella, it's like I need to do it, but just because I want to . . .
"I guess so . . ." I said, trailing off. Russia's smile faded just a little bit.
"I know that look. What are you thinking about?" Oh lord . . . do I actually tell him? I went through everything in my head. For some reason I felt as if I could trust him; he'd been very placid lately, and that look on his face . . . made him seem genuinely curious.
Damnit all, not the puppy eyes. Ivan's puppy eyes were like a weapon, you can't say no!
"Nothing much, just Gupta and . . ." I swallowed a little bit here " Ella."
"Why do you say her name like that, Toris? You sound sad. Is something wrong?"
I stuttered, "N-no, nothing's wr-wrong, nothing at all!" Oh dear, his face just took on that shadowed look . . . Is it just me or did the room just get like, 10 degrees cooler?
"You're lying Lithuania, I can tell. Now-" he twirled around a semi-replacement pipe he had pulled out of the wall in his hand. "What is it that's really bothering you?"
Damnit . . . I exploded, "Ok ok ok, well it's just that Ella is a strong girl and-and-and HOLY SHIT I THINK I HAVE A CRUSH ON HER!" I realized exactly what I had just spilled the second after I said it. Before I could see Russia's expression change, I charged out of the room in fear of my life. Russia was going to kill me, I knew it, but he could do it at a later date.
I was left in my empty dorm, sitting on the edge of my bed with a perplexed expression. If Lithuania really had a crush on Ella, what would happen when he found out that Ella and I were dating? I really cared for the Baltics-after all, they had worked for me for several years.
But with Belarus around, would Lithuania EVER find out we were together? How long would we have to keep our relationship a secret? Would Belarus ever stop stalking me?
All this questions flowed through my brain. I sighed, "F . . . M . . . L." and flopped back onto my pillows, falling asleep to the memory of the warm girl in my arms and her tongue in my mouth.
I never knew Hispanics were so damn good at kissing. I mean, I expected something: after all, she was related to Spain, the Country of Passion. But at French kissing? Had to admit, that was a bit unexpected. And she tasted reeeeeally really good, too. It must be all that exotic, spicy food she likes to eat. . . .
You know what? Who cares? She's a damn good kisser and I'm perfectly fine with that.
"I really appreciate you giving me a hand with all this Seychelles," I said, signing the last paper in the stack. I say this to her almost everyday, mostly since she's always giving me a hand with my presidential duties. But today was special. Roman Empire had released me from the clinic after spending the night and I know that I needed to do something for Ella. The girl had just gone off and risked being expelled from the school to save her friend. The least I could do is give her a pardon.
My colony shrugged. "It's alright Iggy," she said, gathering the papers into a neat stack. "With all the states and capitals here, you've been quite over worked."
I nodded and took another sip of my tea. I couldn't deny it, the days had been busier since all the new students arrived. "Yeah and there's one thing I just don't get." I poured myself another cup of tea. I actually had no idea why I'd brought this up, but it would be either with her or Francis, and trust me, you do not want girl advice from him.
Seychelles pulled up a chair to my desk. "Well let's hear about it," she said eagerly, placing her chin on her hand.
"Well there's this one girl whom I'm always mean to-with good cause of course-but no matter what I do to push her away, she is always kind to me."
For some odd reason, she looked cheerful as she suggested, "Well I think that this girl likes you."
I laughed, spitting some of my tea (how ungentlemanly of me). "So you think that Ottawa likes me?" I demanded, still laughing slightly.
The girl frowned in reply. Without another word, she stood abruptly and left, leaving me to wonder what her problem was. I mean seriously, what was she thinking? That I liked her?
. . .
Oh bloody hell! Why does this always happen to me? Whenever someone gets close to me, they either betray me (Alfred), harass me (Francis), pretend to be someone they aren't (Ottawa), or fall in love with me (Seychelles, latest girl added to my list of admirers). Goddammit! Can't someone not leave me alone here? "Arthur?" a hushed voiced asked as the door to the dorm closed behind him.
I didn't even need to turn and look. "Hey Matthew," I greeted. "How is Ottawa today?" I share a door with him and Alfred, so naturally, I have to ask questions about this, even though it would be my preference to not even think about her.
"She's doing a lot better," he said, taking a seat on his bed. "Roman Empire says that she can leave in a week or two." I noticed how tired he looked as he rubbed his temples. Poor guy, he had not been getting enough sleep lately. Plus he's been getting a lot of stress from the other Canadians, all of them complaining one way or another about his capital. About what, I have no idea.
Like a good friend, I took a seat next to him and rubbed his back. Although he is Alfred's twin and he was once my colony, we both acknowledge the fact that Francis is his older brother not me. "What's bothering you?" I asked.
He mumbled something inaudible before spilling his guts. "God, I was so worried that something like this was going to happen to her," he said. "All my life, that girl has been harassed by her brothers and sisters, especially Prince Edward's Island and Charlottetown. The girl has no people skills and has barely known anyone expect Me, Alfred, and D.C. And mon Deiu! Prussia of all people is now dating her and Francis gave me heads up that Paris has his eyes on Mel as well!" He hurried his face in his hands.
Deep inside, I was kind of pissed off. I still didn't like the girl, but the idea that Prussia, the guy who stole her from me, was now dating her just infuriates me! How could she just get over me that quickly? Even after showing me that she understands, that fairies do exist, that I am NOT crazy. At that moment, on that day, I had seriously considered giving her a chance, hearing her side of Prussia's crazy sex tale. I had her right in the position to talk to me too! I had all of the benches step up so that we could dance and I was going to ask her. But then Alfred came and totally ruined the mood! Then the next day, he comes screaming down the hallway, saying, "Dude, Prussia totally just hooked up with you're girlfriend!"
Not that I'm jealous or anything (you bloody wankers!).
"I wouldn't worry about her," I comforted. I grit my teeth at this next part. "I think she has liked Prussia for quiet some time now."
Matthew laughed. "Knowing her, she probably got herself caught up in some crazy law breaking plan." He looked at me and smiled. "I remember this one time when she was little, Alfred taught her all these inappropriate phrases. I didn't know how to explain them to her, so I just made up explanations."
Well, what do you know! The chap and her share a tendency to tell random stories at random places! "Like what?" I asked, curious to how he cleaned up that one.
He placed a finger on his chin, thinking. "Well there is one I know for sure," he said. "She described D.C. and her as being her 'friends with benefits'-" My heart skipped a beat. "-and I had to tell her that it meant 'friends who help each other'."
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit! Bloody hell! That's what she meant! When I asked her what her connection to Prussia was, she said 'friends with benefits'! She meant he helped her, not had sex. God, I'm such an idiot! "Arthur. . . Is something wrong?" I looked at Matthew. There was a glint of worry in his eyes.
I sighed and rubbed my temples. "Mattie, I just realized a big mistake I made."
He nodded, now rubbing my back. We subconsciously switched places in this comfort-and-comforted situation. "Do you think that you can fix it?"
This is why I like him so much. He never asks any unnecessary questions. I nodded. "Probably, but . . ." My mind trailed off to her and Prussia. They were a couple now, and I still have no idea what his intentions were in the first place. "I don't know if it'll be worth it."
"You'll know when it will."
I gulped. "Yeah." I don't even know if I want to try and fix this. Does Ottawa even want me back in her life again? What if she's perfectly happy with that good-for-nothing-German? But what if Prussia's hurting her? What if she's not happy with him?
What if she loves me?
From years of dealing with Alfred, I know the best way to do this. Just wait on the sidelines, observe the person in question until you have evidence pointing to something. Don't let them know that anything on your side of things has changed.
I bit my lip. Please let everything be alright. I don't want her hurt while I try to figure this out.
I plopped back onto my bed, staring at the white, rather unattractive ceiling. It'd been a hard day today: I'd gone to the store to by more potatoes (cuz you all know I can't rely on Bruder or Opa for this kinda thing) and found Rome, tiny little Rome, trying to carry the largest, most gargantuan tub if chocolate-chip-cookie-dough-maple-syrup-flavored ice cream that I thought I'd ever see in my life. That thing must've weighed twice as much as she did
It was really sweet of her to get that for Melinda in the Canadian's time of need, but it looked like her arms were going to break. I'd dashed forward and grabbed the thing from her before she fell over. She's smiled at me and said, "Ve~ Thank you, Luddy! Whatcha doin here?"
"Um, I was going to . . ." What the hell was I gonna say? 'I'm here to buy potatoes?' That sounded way too stupid. I glimpsed the row of flowers they always have in the front of grocery stores. ". . . buy you flowers?" Thank Gott she didn't notice it was a question.
"Ve~ Really? That's sweet Luddy!"
She giggled then and imitated me: "Mmhmm, Ja~"
There was definitely a squiggly at the end; that combined with her adorable Italian accent just made me blush. She didn't notice and instead kept talking. "But I have to get this to Melinda before Grandpa Rome makes me go get my stuff."
"Oh, ok, how are you getting home?"
"Well, I was running away from Barce and somehow ended up here."
I face-palmed. She tilted her head at this, that quizzical look on her trademark Italian features. "I'll drive you back." I had insisted. She held no complaints, and instead dashed off towards my car with a loud, happy, "WAAAA~!" She claimed a spot on top of the trunk and swung her legs over the edge happily as she waited for me to get over there.
Rome blabbed all the way there: "I like ice cream, do you like ice cream Luddy? I do too, but I like pastaaaa~ better - OOOHLOOKABIRDIIIIIIE! Gosh does everyone else in Germany drive so slow? You can totally drive faster -" She stuck half her body out the window and yelled with a tremendous wave, "FRATELLO!" Romano was riding by on his favorite cherry red Vespa. I thought she was going to fall out, waving both her arms in the air like that with nothing but her (nice, round) thighs against the car door. Oh shit, what if the door fell open? I locked the car doors twice, just in case.
He drove right up to the window and screamed into the car, "Potato Bastard what the hell is my sister doing in your car?"
"Fratello, he's taking me back!" she screamed over the howl of other cars and motor cycles of the like. "I bought ice cream for Mindy today!"
"That's still no excuse!" But Romano sighed and said to himself, "Better than if you were with Tomato Bastard Two." He crouched and looked at me through the window, right at me, with that amber glare. "My sister has to be back in her dorm by 4:32 and e lei ancora meglio essere EXTRA VIRGINE quando torno!"
I thought two things as he drove away (and Rome screamed out the window after him "But I didn't buy olive oil!"): first, why such a specific time? And second, what the hell did he think I was gonna do to her? But she climbed back into the car and sat down again, continuing to talk like nothing had interrupted her in the first place.
We had just delivered the tub of ice cream to Melinda and Matthew and I'd turned around to find Rome gone. Melinda added as she dug into the ice cream, "She went to got get her stuff to the car."
And that was what brought me to this point: staring at the ceiling, thinking about the little Italian. The one memory from earlier that stuck out the clearest was that giggle and the "ja". I smiled to myself as I remembered the sound, so sweet and . . . small? No, I don't think that's the word.
I was still thinking about the proper way to describe it when Opa walked into my room. "Ludwig! You're late for practice!" he shouted angrily as he scrutinized his clipboard.
I hadn't noticed him, and instead thought aloud to myself, "How can I get her to say it again?"
"Take her on a date."
"Opa?" I shot up from the bed.
He was still looking at his clipboard nonchalantly. He lifted the page to look at the next as he said, "You heard me."
"You . . . want me to take Rome . . . on a date?"
". . . . . . Why?"
"It'll make her happy."
". . . . Since when have you ever cared if-"
"Rome is Italian; Happy Italian is good; Happy Italian runs really fast; Fast Italian equals Happy Opa."
"Figures." I said to myself with a sideways glance. I asked him directly as he began to write things on a slip of paper, "So you want me to take Rome on a date so she'll run faster?"
"That's the basic picture, yes."
"Kinda selfish, doncha think, Opa?"
"So? She runs fast enough, we win races and trophies and titles and medals."
"Scared Italian runs just as fast as Happy Italian." I pointed out, not that i wanted to cause little Natale harm.
"Better to give the horse a pat than a whip."
"We keep the Happy Italian in better shape if we treat her right."
"So . . . ?"
"GO ASK HER OUT!"
I hopped to my feet and nearly sprinted out the door. He put a firm hand on my shoulder as I passed him and said, "And Ludwig, we make her happy right?"
"Um . . . duh."
He handed me the slip of paper and patted (read: slapped) my back. I kept running, out into the halls, searching the empty hallways, wandering the campus. On my journey, I looked at the paper he'd handed me. On it was a list of instructions:
1. Expensive, authentic Italian restaurant (you pay EVERYTHING, Ludwig)
2. Get the girl lots of expensive flowers that make her pretty and happy
3. Do what she wants to do, no matter what, as long as she's happy
4. Give her friends money so they can all go shopping together; girls like $$$$
5. And Ludwig, call the girl by her actual NAME: not "Rome" or "Roma", it's "Natale" or "Nattie" or "Natty~" or whatever else, got it?
I sighed. This was going to make me go bankrupt, wasn't it? Having no luck in the hall, I decided to run to her dorm.
Ella, Monty, Justin, and Melinda were in there, with no signs of the Italian capital. "Whatcha doin Germany?" Ella asked.
"On the plane." Ella said, not looking up from the Russian Literature book she was reading.
"To Italy." Melinda added as she planted another glomping spoonful of ice cream from Rome's present into her mouth.
"Italy? When's she coming back?"
I checked my watch: it was 5. Damnit, now I had to wait a month. Opa was not going to be happy.
I was walking down pristine white halls, with a goal at the end of this hall. Oh dear, why can't mi preciousa Roma love me like I love her? I bet it's all that gringo's fault. He has Roma not knowing what she wants. But I shall leave her with no doubt in my mind of what she wants~ Yes, she WILL want me! The passionate Spaniard~! Because I love her con todo mi corazon!
She is just so perfect in every way, from her shiny hair to her tiny feet to her little paws. She can go from adorable to even more adorable when she's mad in 10 seconds flat. She is so full of life and emotion, why does she even consider liking that . . . German over me? He is so pale and boring . . . What could she see in him? Oh well, I WILL prove to Roma that I am the man she wants.
Even if I have to prove it to her everyday I will! Even if I must kidnap her everyday and kiss her senseless until she believes me. Yea . . . that would be nice~! Even if I have to tear her from that cabrone's arms and then never let her leave. Even if I have to make sure that German was some how effaced from the planet to never be seen again by my lovely princessa then I would. If I had to follow her around day and night with a protective streak to match my cousin Mexico's then I would! Man, I will show that girl the reason Spain is the Country of Passion.
Yes . . . A plot began to form in my mind: I would sweep my dulce Roma into my arms and I will kiss her so hard, that even the people she hates will feel pleasure. Hmm, maybe I could borrow a thing or two from France's people. I believe they have a name for their own method of kissing? He explained it to me once, and I believe that it shall be very appropriate. My arms slung around her thin waist, savoring the very taste of the girl of my dreams. She only needs to acknowledge the fact that we will be together and my plans to French kiss the girl into oblivion will go much smoother.
The whole scene swirled together in my mind: there is my Roma, back at school, waiting for me under that droopy green tree. She shoots me a dazzling smile, a smile which soon turns into a seductive smirk. She throws her arms around me-oh yes, my sweet Roma~-with such force that we're knocked to the ground. We kiss each other with so much force we have no idea what way is up or which was down. I could feel the curves of my querido and then she slips her hand under my shirt, feeling me as well. After a few minutes of enjoying the taste of mi dulce Roma, I would pick her up bridal style and take her back to my room where I'm sure we could enjoy ourselves a little more privately. Oh, dulce indeed, she will taste so sweet I might just get a cavity. Hmm~
My thoughts were interrupted by the accented voice of hermano's friend, yelling at me. "Dépêcher! Mon ami, the plane is leaving soon!" France looked like he was in a hurry.
He shoved something in my hands and led me toward a door to the runway where I see Antonio waiting there for us with an odd look on his face. "Are you sure this is a good idea, hermanito?"
My thoughts went back to earlier. I will do anything to win over Roma. "Si, I am sure. Now lets go!"
Natale didn't like airports: they were big and busy and noisy. It had taken them a long time to finally make there way onto the plane, as per an incident where they almost didn't give their luggage over earlier (the siblings nearly breaking into tears). But, once the whole process was explained to them, it all went much smoother. Now she was just tired, and so was Italy. Roma curled up by the window seat, staring out at the dark runway. She had almost fallen asleep when the plane started moving, jerking them both fully awake with a simultaneous "Waa!" But Rome thought she was still asleep when she looked out the window and saw something shocking: was that Barcelona?
It was indeed, for outside of the airplane on the runway was one of those automated luggage carrying carts with Spain driving and France next to him. But the worst part was that somehow Barcelona was on top of the cart holding up a banner that said in big words "Te amo, ROMA~~!" She looked back to Feli and saw that the sleepy Italian had fainted-whether from the scene outside or the plane's sudden movements, she had no idea.
Natale looked back out the window, meeting Barce's gaze. He gave a huge smile holding the banner up higher, as if trying to make sure the girl had seen it. The plane started to speed up a bit, now turning to the official runway. Barce yelled something at Antonio who looked doubtful but then sped up in an attempt to keep up with the plane. But then, as he turned the corner, Antonio must've been going at it too fast because with no footing and the angle they were going at . . .
Barcelona lost his grip and flew off the top of the cart, into the field, getting tangled in his own banner as he barrel-rolled away due to momentum.
Rome gasped and put her face against the window, trying to see if Barce was okay, but it was then that the plane decided to take off, leaving the girl without knowing of his condition. But she got over it, leaning back into her seat contentedly. "He's Barcelona, I'm sure that thick skull will prevent any harm." she mumbled before going to sleep.