Chapter 1

Shit! That pasta loving bastard is going to be here any minuet. If he catches me sleeping on the day he was supposed to visit I'm never going to hear the end of it. I leapt from my bed in a flurry of bed sheets and pillows and threw on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. I burst out of my room and sprinted down the stairs. I ran into the kitchen just to find an unwanted visitor. No, it wasn't Feliciano. It was fucking Spain.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" I screamed at him.

"Calm down Lovino. Your brother invited me today for lunch. It seems you forgot." He replied coolly.

"He cannot invite you into my own fucking house! And I did NOT forget!" I hollered back almost breathless.

"But you're going to be glad I'm here!"

"No. I'm pretty sure I'm not"

"It seems that you need help making lunch. I could help you! Two people work better than one!" He looked down at me with his usual goofy smile.

"No fucking way!" I snarled back.

"Come on Lovi! I promise I won't tell Feliciano that you forgot about him."

"Do not call me Lovi! It's Romano to you. And for the last time I did not forget!"

"Please! I won't stop bothering you!"

Fuck. That asshole really knew how to get on my nerves. I felt like I was having a conversation with a five-year-old.

"Fine. But I don't owe you a goddamn thing."

Spain just smiled and happily bounced over to the counter. He rummages around in my cabinet and pulled out pasta, rice (since when did I have rice?!), tomatoes, chili powder, and onions. How the hell did he know where everything was?! I fell really violated right now. Is he fucking stalking me?

"Ill let you take care of the pasta. I got the rest" He winked at me. I kicked him. He groaned in pain but continued to smile anyways. I pulled out a deep cooking pot from a cupard underneath the counter I was standing at. I walked over to my sink and began to fill it with water. While waiting I gazed out of a window that was over my sink. Beyond it laid a sparkling lake that called to me in the summer time to swim in it. It glistened in the sun and soft ripples glided across its surface. Oh how I longed for it. But it was the fucking winter and getting wet was not something in my best interest.

"Lovino! The pot is overflowing!" warned Spain.

"Fuck!" I cursed out loud "And stop calling me Lovino. I told you its Romano to you!"

I hastily poured out some of the water and walked across the room to my gas stove. I place the pot on one of the four burners, turned it on, and dumped the pasta in the pot. Spain walked beside me and placed whatever dish he was making on the burner next to me. He turned and saw the lake. He smiled even bigger. Wait- was that even possible? Just how much face did this bastard have?!

"One day let's go swimming there together." He said enthusiastically.

"No fucking way."

"Come on! It would be fun! That's how you could repay me for helping you."

"You said I don't owe you anything!"

"No, you said that. I never said anything about that. So now you have to!"

Dirty bastard. What the hell is his problem? What's with the wanting to spend time with me lately? I don't like it. I don't like it at all. I turned and saw him with that fucking puppy face on. God how does this guy know every one of my fucking weaknesses. Maybe it's just caused he took me in as a child. But I spent most of my time trying to get away from him as much as possible!

"Fine." I sighed. He smiled, again, and held up his pinkie. What the hell?

"Pinkie swear so you don't back out." He said defiantly. How old was this guy again? He's acting like a fucking kid. His green eyes looked at me hopefully. I wearily wrapped my pinkie around his finger and we shook once. He just stupidly smile some more. My heart skipped a beat. What the fuck?! That NEVER happened. Maybe I have heart disease. Holy fuck can I get that from too much tomato intake? Shit! I'm going to fucking die of heart disease before America does! That's just fucking screwed up. I better tell my doctor to cure me and tell America to eat more hamburgers.

"I have to make a phone call. Watch the pasta." He just smiled (god how much does he smile) as if too say Go ahead!

I raced into my main foyer. I flipped open my cell phone and dialed my doctor's number ferociously. I had actually gotten pretty good at texting and typing in the numbers fast. I held the phone to my ear and almost immediately my doctor's secretary picked up.

"Hello." said her perky voice on the other line.

"Hey this is Romano and I need to talk to my doctor."

"Okay. Please wait for a few minuets."

I could be dead in a few minuets! Could you guys hurry the fuck up! As I nervously paced I gazed up at my chandelier that overlooked the hall that led to my living room and kitchen. It was simple, only a few light bulbs in a glass case that was lined with gold colored metal. I leaned against my stairs that were on one side of the room and stared down my reflection in the mirror that was directly across from me. I looked outside to my stone driveway though the small windows on each side of my red front door to see if Feliciano was coming. I was jolted from y thoughts when my doctor's voice almost whispered "Hello." into the receiver. He must have had a long day. He seemed tired but it was only twelve thirty.

"I think I have heart disease." I said confidently into the phone. I heard Spain snickering. That bastard had no idea that my life was in danger here.

"Look Romano, I can whole heartedly say that you do not have heart disease unless you have started eating like America."

"My heart stopped for a fucking second! A whole fucking second! I think I have heart disease!"

"You do not have heart disease! Your heart skipped a beat. You're probably just with some girl you don't know you like yet." With that said he hung up. I shut my phone angrily. He was so fucking WRONG! First of all, Spain is not a girl. Second of all, I DO NOT LIKE SPAIN!

I stormed into the kitchen where Spain was cleaning up. I looked over at the table that sat in the awkward "grey" zone where my kitchen and living room combined. Steaming bowls of delicious smelling food were spread out on the table. When the hell did he make all of this?! It would have taken me days to make this much food.

He caught me gaping at the table.

"You like it?" he asked

"It's okay." I said. I couldn't let that bastard know that for once in my life I wished that Feliciano would get here so I can dig in.

"Glad you think so." He smiled. How many times is he going to fucking smile? Can he even feel his mouth? His smile faded. I could clearly see his glowing green eyes and his wavy brownish-blackish that was almost illuminated by the sunlight flowing in from the window above the sink. Finally he looked somewhat normal. I can't see any of his features when he smiles. But his smile wasn't bad either. What the hell was I saying?! Nothing was good about him! Everything is bad about him!

"Lovino are you okay?" he asked looking thoroughly concerned. My heart sped up. I swear to god that it was going to fucking rip out of my chest and run away. I didn't know what to say so I just madly yelled at him "Don't call me Lovino you bastard."

I'm sure he took that as a sign that I was back to myself.

The doorbell rang and I raced to get it. Just in time, I thought. I could finally eat! I threw open the door and dragged Feliciano into the house before he could even say hello or tackle me with one of his hugs of death. I ripped his jacket off of him and threw it on the stairs. Then I continued to drag him down the hallway and dumped him into a chair. I zipped over to a chair across the way, ready to dig in. Spain seemed fairly shocked by the series of events but quickly sat down when I shot death glares at him. I was so fucking hungry.

"Hello Lovino." said my brother, still slightly dazed by what had just happened.

"Aww! How come he gets to call you Lovino?" complained Spain.

"I was about to tell him to shut up but you just had to speak first." I snapped back, eyeing what looked like Spanish rice hungrily.

"PASTA!" Feliciano yelled the moment he saw the carbohydrate filled food. I took that as my cue to dig in. I took a little bit of everything and extra of the tomatoes that sat gleaming on a ceramic plate. Everything tasted amazing! The Spanish flavors really stood out with the different spices Spain put in. Even though his dishes were delectable, nothing could beat the all natural taste of the many tomatoes I consumed.

"It seems like you really like what I made." Spain said.

"I'm just really hungry. That's all."

"Oh. That's all." He said that almost like he was depressed. That was completely out of the ordinary.

"It's good though." I said, trying to get his usual smile back into place. Hold on- why in the fucking world would I want him to be happy? I could really care less. Ugg, why does he always make me not me? I hate it.

"I'm glad you liked it!" He said with his smile returning to his face again. My heart sped up again and I felt somewhat relieved that Spain was smiling again. On top of that, I could feel my cheeks turn a bright red. What is wrong with me? I have never acted like this before. Except for that one time I was captured by Turkey and Spain had to come in and save me. That bastard was even thinking of leaving in the clutches of Turkey! I figured that I felt like that because of all the "excitement."

"Hey Lovino, you don't look so well." Said Feliciano.

"Well I don't feel so well either." I replied.

After hearing that, Spain turned to me and put his hand on my forehead. I felt like my heart had jumped into my throat and was screaming "Let me out! Let me out!" I sure hope it would quiet the fuck down.

"You do seem like you have a fever. Why don't you go upstairs a lay down." Said a very concerned looking Spain. That had to be it! I had a fever. That's why I was acting so strangely. That fucking doctor had no idea what he was talking about. Spain isn't causing this. It's some stupid virus.

I was about to get up to run the safety of my room when I realized that I cant leave guest alone in any situation (that's just rude) and if I left these particular guest alone I might wake up to my whole entire house burnt down. Then I would be fucking pissed. I shook my head at Spain's suggestion and began to clean up the table. Spain watched me ever so closely with a very anxious look on his face. Feliciano just sat at the table happily dreaming about what pasta dish he was going to have for dinner. Seriously, that kid just ate; he needs to take a break from the pasta.

As soon as I cleared the table Feliciano announced that he had an appointment and had to be on his way. That was a complete waste of time if he wasn't even going to be staying. I'm not complaining or anything but if he just has to come over then he might as well stay. But whatever. Who cares?

When Feliciano left, I looked to Spain expectantly but he just smiled. Why wasn't that dofus leaving?

"I'm going to stay and make sure you get better." He announced. What the hell? Can that guy fucking mind read?

"No. You're leaving."

"Not as long as you are sick."

"I know you find it very hard to believe but I can take care of myself."

"I'm still not leaving."

"Leave."

"No."

"Look I owe you a lot for lunch today and I don't want to owe you anymore so just leave."

"Nope"

"Fine. I fucking give up."

"Yay! Now go get PJ's on."

"Excuse me? You can't tell me what to do!"

"Just do it so you are more comfortable."

"Fine." I glared at him as I turned to walk upstairs to get on my PJ's. Who does he think he is? He can't tell me what to do! I pulled on my fuzzy PJ's (yes, there are footies on them.)I heard a tentative knock on the door. I walked over and opened it. Spain stood there with a steaming glass of tea and some medicine. He looked at my PJ's and laughed.

"I L-O-V-E those PJ's! You look adorable in them!" I punched him.

"Do NOT call me adorable and do NOT laugh." He rubbed the spot on his arm where I had hit him. It wasn't very hard though because that glass of tea was looking spectacular right now. Spain walked in my room and put the tea and medicine on my night stand. He pulled up a rocking chair from the far corner of my room to my bed. Then he took my wrist and tossed me into my bed. I tried to struggle from his grasp but he was too strong. My heart did the whole stop for a full fucking second thing while Spain handed me my tea. I drank it thirstily and then I had the medicine forced down my throat. I fucking hate medicine. Especially grape medicine. Why can't they make any good flavors that I enjoy?

I laid down and pulled the sheets around my chin. Spain took a seat in the rocking chair and began to stroke my hair. My stomach churned and my heart kept beating faster and faster. I just sat there shocked for a little bit but then I finally gained the ability to speak again.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Well stop."

"No."

I fucking give up. There will probably be no way for me to ever stop him from doing whatever he wants so I'm just going to have to live with this until I can pass for being healthy. I closed my eyes and slowing drifted to sleep, Spain's gentle tough with me the whole entire time.