Spain walked into Lovino's house, curious as to all the shouting that was going on as he walked past. When he opened the door, all he heard was a rough voice grumbling something that sounded like “stupid potato bastard."
South Italy slammed a door, growling under his breath about his younger brother's friend. Germany was such an uncivilized country bumpkin with bad physiology. Glancing up, he froze as he saw Spain. "What are you doing here?" He muttered crankily.
Spain's eyebrows rose in question. "I was walking by and heard shouting." He stared at the disheveled young man in front of him.
"So you just walked in?" A glare shot from his flashing hazel eyes. "Hmph. Germany is being a potato bastard, like always, and stupid Feliciano isn't seeing it. He won't listen to me! Damn kid..." Looking away from Spain, he fixed his unfriendly orbs on the ground. "Can I... Can we go somewhere else? Back to your house, maybe? I don't want to be here with these bastards any longer." His voice was subdued, as he didn't quite like asking favors.
Spain chuckled slightly at him. "Yeah, I just walked in. Oh, yeah, and you can come over to mine! I have some fresh tomatoes!" Spain started to turn around. "You sleeping over at my house?"
Romano shrugged, still watching the floor. "Iunno. Guess it depends on if Germany's not going home any time soon... Which I doubt he will..." A small sigh breathed out of him. "Let me go grab some things. I'll be back..." He walked through the house, to his bedroom, and shoved some clothes for later that night into a small bag. He returned to Spain with the same pissed-off expression. "'Kay," he grumbled. "Let's go."
Spain chuckled, then smirked. "We're going to have some fun.” He said this half joking and half serious. Spain put his hands in his pockets and walked slowly out of the house and towards his own.
Lovino's angry gaze jerked up to look at Spain, trying to decide if he was serious, but the other had already turned away. "Don't say that, bastard," he whispered once out of earshot, then quickly darted forward to walk a bit behind him. They walked in silence for a bit. "Why is Germany always over?" His voice was soft, yet fierce.
Spain's gaze locked with the ground, trying to avoid his friend's glare. "Maybe because Germany is with Italy, and I think he likes Italy." Spain walked a little faster, trying to avoid the angry young man. "Don't kill me!"
Romano shook his head furiously. "No." He was more confused than angry, though still irritated. "Germany doesn't like Feli. He's always calling him stupid and annoying and telling him to go away. I just don't understand." And, of course, the arrogant country didn't like not understanding things. It just added to his frustrations.
Spain looked down at the frustrated man, "Maybe he is just trying to hide his feelings. You know, so he still keeps the appearance of strong and emotionless." They slowed their walking in front of his house. "Oh, look, we're here."
South Italy scoffed, trying to hide how close Spain’s words had hit to home. "That's stupid. He's stupid. Feli's stupid. You're stupid, too. I'm going inside." Pushing curtly past Antonio, he opened the door to the house and threw his stuff on the ground, curling up on a nearby sofa and staring at the wall.
Antonio sighed, slowly following the troubled boy inside. "You can sleep on my bed with me; it's a large bed." Antonio knew it was supposed to storm, as he had seen dark clouds ahead as they were walking. Lovino was too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice. Antonio knew he was afraid of storms, and was only trying to help.
"No. I don't want to. I don't wanna be anywhere near you. Go away." Picking up a small, fluffy pillow, the Italian chucked it at his companion immaturely. He never moved his irritated stare from the far wall. "I'm not gonna sleep tonight, anyway."
