[In the background, a very pretty girl comes stumbling down the stairs that can be seen, muttering sleepily in Italian. She looks at the computer, seemingly notices that it's recording, rolls her eyes at it and yawns. Instead, she grabs a tomato from a basket on a small table by the doorway, and her mobile phone from the same place. She flips it
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S-sì, it's me, Ungheria.
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[her expression darkens, and her tone is bitter.] ... Besides, I don't want to leave anything to him right now.
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... And I'll... wear a huge coat so that Francia and the others don't recognise me. ... Wait, fuck, now Russia's going to know it's me there.
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and proceeds to hide under the table.]
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[she pauses... and...
starts laughing. Sorry, Romano.]
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Sh-shut up!! It's not funny!
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So, Lovina, do you need help? You're not used to wearing girls clothes, and I'm assuming you don't have any to begin with.
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oh, right, clothes are kind of necessary.]
... M-maybe. I mean, I can do this myself, it's not like I need help, but since you want to help so damn badly, I-I'll let you.
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