West Italy (HETALIA)

Chapter 2

"America, are you ready to go?" Lovino yelled impatiently.

"Yeah, I'm coming!" America's voice drifted down the stairs.

"Ve~ I'm so excited to take our boy to an Italian opera!" Feliciano chirped.

The sound of a door opening and closing rang through the house before America ran down the stairs, throwing on his bomber jacket. "Ok, dudes, let's go."

Lovino and Feliciano stared at America.

"America," Lovino complained, "I thought we told you to dress nice."

"I am dressed nice. Look, I'm not wearing my ripped jeans."

"But you're still in jeans. And a T-shirt. And fucking sneakers! We can't take you to the opera dressed like that! You'll bring shame to the Vargas name!"

Willfully ignoring the last part of that sentence, America frowned. "But...this is what I always wear."

Feliciano whimpered. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Nope! I don't really do dress clothes. They're so uncomfortable."

"Well you can't go out like that!" Romano waved his hand at America's ensemble. "Where's your room? We'll find you something to wear. If there's something Italians know, it's fashion."

"Umm...ok...Follow me, I guess..." America led them up the stairs and opened the door to his room.

Lovino and Feliciano made a bee-line for America's closet.

"I really don't think that you'll find much, though. I never wear suits or anything. I used to have one England gave me, but that was like 300 years ago..."

"T-shirt, T-shirt, T-shirt..." Lovino paused as he found a solitary blue button up shirt, wrinkled and lightly stained. "What the fuck kind of closet is this?"

"Ve, what are we going to do, fratello?" Feliciano said, biting his lip. "We can't go to the opera unless America is dressed properly!"

America crossed his arms over his chest, cheeks puffed out in a pout. "I really don't get what's wrong with the clothes I'm wearing..."

Lovino slapped him. "Don't you ever say that again! Fucking England teaching our boy it's alright not to care about his appearance..." Lovino sighed. "We have no choice. We'll have to go the night after tomorrow instead."

America frowned, not even bothering to rub his cheek-the Italies really were weak. "I don't think I'm going to have a chance to go shopping before we go..."

"Ve, don't worry, we'll take care of it!"

*****

"Man, what a long day," America sighed, walking though through the door and throwing his jacket on the couch.

"America? Is that you?" Romano asked, moving into America's view.

"Romano? What are you – why are you – how did you get in my house?"

Romano stared blankly at America. "I'm South Italy. I know people."