Operation Hetalia

Chapter Four

-Italy's POV-

It had been hours after we left France's house. Romano wouldn't give up on making me feel different about Germany. Yet I insisted I had no romantic feelings whatsoever for him.

I knew I was going to regret ever telling my brother. We sat facing each other in the living room. I was on a chair and he was on the cushion next to the phone on the couch. I knew if I slipped up he'd threaten to call him. This time he wouldn't joke.

Romano never liked calling his old mentor, Spain. I don't know all the details, I just know he has weird feeling for him. I'll never know. Romano doesn't like talking to me much.

"Italy, can you reheat me some bouillabaisse?" he asked.

I glared at my brother. "Why, can't you?" I stated.

He glared and smirked at me. The door knocked and he stood up and went to the door. He made a grunt noise in his throat. A tall dark brunette lurked into the house.Of course, it had to be Spain.

He smiled at me. I shuttered and was ready to pull out a white flag. Spain began to walk towards me. How would Romano be able to stand being within a yard of this guy? Spain sat where Romano had.

"H-hi, Spain." I said.

"Hola, Italy, don't be so shy." he said.

My brother sat next to him. I sighed. Why did he come here. Did Romano plan make me feel uncomfortable on purpose? Urgh, why did he come here!

"Is something on your mind?" Romano asked.

"Why is Spain here?' I asked.

"Because, I wanted to ask your brother if he'd help me fight in the war I'm having with France." Spain muttered. He looked at Romano with the puppy face.

"No." Romano said.

"Please, you know I barely made the last one alone." he whined.

"I was a little kid then." he argued.

"If you don't I tell your sister things when you were a kid until you agree."

Romano shuttered. "Do it." he remarked.

Spain smirked. "Okay. Italy, did you know when I took your brother he was a little scared."

"Romano? He wouldn't act like that." I said.

"Oh but he was. He didn't like the going into the supply closet or touching wet food in the sink."

I stared at him. Romano just looked away. "Really?" I said.

"And he acted like he hated me but every time France would come near him he'd bitch and scream for me. Then cling to my legs."

I giggled at Romano's pink face. "Shut up!" Romano hissed.

It didn't stop there. "He loved playing with the little dogs that lived around the house. He'd come in and ask if he could bring tomatoes to them and whine when I said no." Spain said, holding glares at Romano.

"I said stop!"

"He had a huge crush on Belgium but after she called him cute he freaked out. He'd bitch if you so much as touched his curl."

"Okay! Fine, I'll fight." Romano gave up.

"Not done. And he used to..." he said before Romano screamed at him.

"Spain! You bastard! You want help or not!?"

I looked at the arguing boys. What was the friend part of this relationship. Big tall Spanish man and a normally sized south Italian man. I wonder what they have in common.