Of Hide-and-Seeks [Hetalia / Spamano Story]

3

The shaking of his hands and the manic drumming behind his ribs just wouldn't stop--but Romano was truly not surprised. In order to eradicate the damn tiredness that had already threatened to knock him out multiple times since he had come back from grocery shopping, he had abandoned his habit of consuming caffeine quite moderately. In other words, it was now close to 6.30 pm and since the late afternoon, he had already drunk four cups of pitch-black espresso even though he normally never had more than one cup to round off his meals.

The black beverage was a curse and a blessing at the same time, for at first, it provided him with all the élan he had needed to prepare a good Stufato. In a burst of energy, Romano washed and chopped the ingredients--the vegetable, the meat, and the herbs--in rough pieces before turning them into one of his favorite dishes by searing the meat sharply and well from all sides, deglazing it with wine, and granting the dish the time to develop its hearty taste through stewing. It was one of those dishes more or less finishing themselves, which was usually a convenient way of cooking, as it enabled Romano to shift his focus to other things for work or spare time-related.

Today, however, it was fatal, for as soon as Romano sat down, his eyelids quickly came to feel as heavy as they had before, whereas his heart and his hands were still under the control of a latent trembling. Lying on the sofa, Romano's gaze frantically chased the words on the page of the novel he had found on the nightstand in the guest room that used to be his room, and frankly, it hadn't changed much since the day of Romano's move to Italy. Of course, most of his personal belongings had found a new home in his apartment in Rome, but furniture-wise, the room was still dressed the exact same way as before. The only modification the room faced at least somewhat regularly was the exchanges in books lying on the nightstand. Romano was either greeted by a familiar cover from Spain's personal library or by a completely foreign one Spain had stumbled upon in one of those tiny second-hand book shops in Madrid. Either way, seeing Romano growing up and obsessing about certain plots and genres had given Spain a freaking spooky talent for picking out books Romano couldn't put down once he had flipped them open.

Thus it was no wonder Romano hadn't exactly moved during the past hour. Turning the page for the umpteenth time, he huffed in annoyance due to the protagonist's bad luck. Born as the daughter of a wealthy merchant, she had long been promised to the son of one of her father's influential friends, but as both the friend's son and wife died during the Black Death epidemic, the friend suggested he marry her instead. To avoid being stuck with an ugly old fart molesting her even before the marriage ceremony, she flees the scene, and, all dressed up as a boy, hides on a ship taking off to the new world. Things could've been somewhat bearable if it hadn't been for the charming airhead of a captain developing an interest in his new sailor instead of keeping a vigilant eye on a bunch of rowdy crew members, who had secretly planned a mutiny and the certain death of both the captain and his new favorite member. God, these dudes surely were some evil motherfuckers, since they had just exposed her true sex when they ripped her shirt in an attempt to shackle her. Now she was half-naked and about to get raped before being killed, and her dear Mr. Head-in-the-Clouds didn't even hear her screams for help because of the roaring thunderstorm outside. Seemed like she had no choice but to rescue herself?! But damn, how was she supposed to do that? It was impossible!

Completely tense, Romano bit his lower lip. He would have long thrown the melodramatic novel against one of the house's solid brick walls, but his overly caffeinated, shaking fingers decided again and again to turn yet another page, regardless of how tired his eyes had become-not only from reading, but also from the short but bountiful trip to the supermarket, which was only a ten-minute bike ride away, and the three hours he had dug through his emails this afternoon.

Speaking of the devil: Romano's cellphone beeped twice in a row. Then a third time and even a fourth and a fifth time. Feli. He was the only one in Lovino's contact list with a pesky need to communicate.