Loved by the Island, Smitten by the Boot

Ch 6

It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining brightly, the birds were singing their sweet songs, not a single cloud was in the sky. Today the colors of the world popped and were bright and colorful in a way that Feliciano never knew could exist. His commute to the meeting number eight out of ten was easy, especially considering the drama queen that was Lovino Vargas. Even with his pouting and complaining did the good times keep coming. Lovino noticed, don't anyone think he didn't. The way his brother hummed a little softer as if it were for just himself, the way his smile just felt a touch extra cheerful, don't even get him started on that stupid curl and how it'd stupidly curl into a stupid heart every once in a stupid while. Lovino Vargas could smell the feelings of happiness and love radiate off of his younger brother and it made him sick. Not because he was an evil person who hated it when his brother was happy, he was glad he found someone, he just hated that it had to be that bushy-browed and tasteless island who got off on acting like a creep. So when his brother hopped into the car in the morning and he looked out the window and began humming to himself he crossed his arms and waited for him to feel the blazing hot gaze of his brother burning through his head. A moment or two passed but the younger Italian did feel like he was being watched so he slowly turned around and came face-to-face with an angry Lovino.

"I don't like it."

"Perché no?"

"Why not?! Because he's the United fucking Kingdom! He's a creepy little weirdo who's life is so crappy he has to make up imaginary friends! And when I was living with that American- Alfred- he told me that Britain is a freaky creep and a crazy drunk."

"He's a nice guy! He's a great guy! He's so sweet and kind and totally not like what you're describing."

"Fratello he's an asshole and insane. The other day he told France to shove a frog up his ass and shit it out his mouth before getting into a fist fight with him."

"You tell everyone mean things! You tell Ludwig mean things and try to hit him!"

"That's different now! You and the sausage-sucking bastard are friends and have been for a really annoying amount of time. I'm used to the bastard now. He means nothing and I still get the added safety because I'm your brother."

"Arthur is strong too! He can still protect me and you just as good as Ludwig can!" Lovino gave his brother a look. "M-Maybe not as strong as Ludwig but he's a big nation, he's older than us and has gone through a bit so that has to mean something in the long run? And if you need to get used to him we can just have him over more! Maybe he'll be faster to warm up to than Ludwig! Let's aim for less than 30 years!" The older Italian scoffed, shaking his head.

"I don't see why you had to choose piss hair out of everyone. You coulda chose fucking Alfred or Gilbert. Hell even the goddamn Netherlands and that bastard creeps the fuck outta me. Or Russia! You could've chose Russia."

"And you'd be acting differently if it were them and not Arturo?" Lovino's jaw clenched. His brother got him there. He sighed in frustration and looked out his window, dropping the topic for now and moving on to what the two would have for dinner that night. Feliciano won this battle but Lovino was dead set on winning the next!

His scuffle with his brother didn't put a damper in Feliciano's day. He chugged along, talking to his brother about their dinner plans and kept his mind on the blond Brit of his dreams. When they arrived to the building, Feliciano saw that his friends were already there and hey!— they were waiting for him in their cars! How sweet. He hopped out the car, waiting for the other two while they gathered their belongings and stepped out. Lovino waited too. The second the other two finally joined the Italians, Lovino opened his big fat mouth.