1

46 3 0
                                    

Dear readers, welcome to this weird, historically not quite accurate Spamano story that I've wanted to write for years. Please note the warnings listed below and don't read this fic if you're easily triggered. The first chapter might still be a kind of 'introductory' chapter, but later chapters will be much more darker. This story can also be found on AO3 and ffnet, just for your information.

I'd also like to thank Nyctae from AO3 for the great beta reader service! *Thank you very much! You did an awesome job!*

____________________________


The one thing Romano truly loved about headphones was that they kept the world at bay. Whether he was actually listening to music or not didn't even matter. Most people had internalized long ago that headphones were an electronic 'Do Not Disturb' sign, and hence spared the person wearing them any kind of unnecessary conversation. Therefore, putting on his headphones after a long hard working day had become a constant habit of Romano.

Given that today was one of those days where Romano's precious coffee break had been ruined by two mafiosi who "just happened to be around" and "just wanted to say ciao and have a little chat", Romano decided to forgo the music in order to starve out his latent headache. Muted headphones on, he made his way down the busy street, past crowded restaurants and shops and around the corner. Escorted by his outstretched shadow and the late yet still comfortably warm sun, he headed towards a bus stop at the end of a quiet side road. With the exception of two women, whose lower legs and feet were almost completely swallowed by an ocean of jam-packed shopping bags, the stop was deserted. Both women acknowledged Romano's arrival with a brief glance and a kind nod in his direction. Assuming his ears were blocked with music, they continued their conversation uninhibited as if no one was around while Romano checked his cellphone.

Aside from too many unread business emails, there were only two notifications begging for his attention. One was from the terribly annoying Whatsapp group Feli had somehow tricked Romano into joining—as if he was interested in cheesy photos of Feli and that stupid potato bastard! The only reason the older Italy brother stayed in this dreadful group was because otherwise he had to deal with Feliciano's awfully effective crying.
To prevent the emergence of any useless drama in advance, Romano posted an ugly emoji in response to the couple's latest photo, skipped the other Whatsapp notification, and switched to Instagram. Surprise, surprise: his feed had once again been spammed with food porn and fitness updates by America; on Twitter, the usual exchange of verbal blows between various nations was taking place. Great. Just great. If Romano didn't already have a headache, he surely would have one by now!

At least there was still the unread Whatsapp notification that he had ignored up until now, which informed him about a message he had received this morning from Spain. It was the kind of message that Romano got far too often and that usually began with a cheerful Hola Lovi :D ¿Qué tal? It was also the kind of message Romano typically ignored all day long, so Spain wouldn't get the impression that Romano had nothing better to do than exchange messages with his former caretaker.

In the evening, however, the personification of South Italy often found himself calling Spain after realizing they had just been chatting for twenty minutes straight, and Romano found the activity of chatting tiring as hell, or as Spain always put it: Romano was still a lazy ass at heart and, as such, preferred speaking to typing. Needless to say that Romano always disagreed, even though he knew that it was true and, even worse, that Spain would take advantage of Romano's denial by asking innocently, "So you just called to hear my voice then?" Whereupon Romano would threaten to hang up but never did because Spain's light-hearted laughter felt too much like home for Romano to turn his back on it.

Of Hide-and-Seeks [Hetalia / Spamano Story]Where stories live. Discover now