"Ragazza, don't think of making this a habit! Next time call my brother or something!" Your love, Romano Lovino Vargas, complained. Him, being a secretly caring and loving person, had just picked you up from the street. Your car had broken down and you were stuck- but he was your hero and came to your rescue. What were best friends for? He dropped his keys, flopping onto the couch next to the coffee table littered pizza boxes.
You gave a sigh, pressing your index fingers to the bridge your nose. Even in times like this he thought of Feliciano. His thoughts of his inferiority compared to his little brother made you... Sad...? Was that the word? Whenever he mentioned how everyone favored Feliciano, you couldn't help but hear the thought in the back of your mind: I favor you. I want you.
"Thank you, Romano. I didn't want to be stuck out there all night long," You smiled at his mumble and let him resume his state of semi-consciousness.
You groaned as you glanced at the room. It smelled of Italian food, which was amazing and delicious, but the sight of the fast food containers was not. Sweeping your arm across the table, making the trash plummet into the plastic bag you got from the kitchen, you decided a quick little clean up couldn't hurt anything.
Twenty minutes later, releasing a breath, you put your hands on your waist, and stared out proudly at the room that now had a fresh scent of lilac.
Off in the corner of your vision, you saw brown hair and olive skin moved a collective to stand and form a slight drowsy Romano. He rubbed his eyes with fist, before taking a deep, audible breath.
He dropped his hands, before he reached down with his fingers and groped the table top surface. You heard his sharp intake of breath, as his hands now slamming onto the table with every searching stroke. He eyes winded in fear and shock and... Something..... Something else entirely.
"Where did it go?!" Romano belted out of nowhere. "Where did you put it! Did you see it!? Did you hate it so much you decided it was trash just like every other little thing I do!?"
Your eyebrows creased together in confusion. What on Earth did he mean? Did the pizza tepee he made mean that much to him?
"R-Romano, what are you talking about?" You pulled your pockets out, showing him you had nothing to hide. "I just cleaned a little bit. Everything's in the trash bin."
He quickly pushes past you, hair running after him. Did he... Have..? No. There is no way on Earth Romano would cry over rotten italian food. Following after him, your socks collecting dirt as you run outside, to find Romano's body pushing against the huge green waste container (that was only filled with what you just threw away). His legs supporting him as his hands were spread next to his head which was banging against the bin.
"Dammit! I can't get it out!" He started hitting his fist against the container as well. "I can't do anything!" He choked out before raising his head and started moving his feet as if to walk, putting pressure on his hands. He was trying to toss the bin over.
Moving beside him, copying his formation, you remembered everything your pain-in-the-ass P.E. teacher had taught you. And just as sweat started to thread beneath your hairline, the familiar boxes of italian food came pouring out, and not a second later, Romano opened one you hadn't paid attention to.
Paper was folded and held between his tanned fingers, pen and pencil marks covering it, though you couldn't see exactly what it was.
"R-...Romano?" You question, as he shoves the parchment towards you, head down and turned towards his side; he was afraid of what reaction might be coaxed out when you saw it...
"You.. drew... this?" There were pauses in your speech came as your brain tried to process what you where staring at in glorious amazement. In the picture Romano was hugging you, putting a kiss to your lips. It was.. Beautiful! Nothing Feli could ever compare to!
He nodded, his face aflame, "_-_________, Sono innamorato di te!"
You don't move for a moment, using your limited knowledge of Italian to understand, because, of course, he couldn't say something simple like a plain 'I love you'. You grasp his hand and your smile is immediate as he captures your lips, and you whisper the words right back.