Quando Parli [4 b / ?]
anonymous
March 13 2010, 00:18:49 UTC
The tomato fell out of Spain's mouth when he stiffened in utter shock at the tame and nice response, and looked as if Romano had just announced he was pregnant and only going to wear pink dresses from now on. Or planning to get married to Russia. Either way, he had frozen for a split second, and in another split second, was next to the Italian, his hand on the other's forehead, looking seriously worried and tears at the corner of his eyes. He was babbling about things and others, making a mix of Spanish, English and Italian without noticing it, and Romano could only look at him in pure confusion. What had he just asked anyway ? He hadn't asked him how his day had been ? No ? Well, shit. "What... What did you ask, bastard ?" Spain interrupted his lamentations, gave him a surprised look, and repeated his question. "The paella, how is it ?" "Er... Edible." Romano just noticed the closeness of Spain's face, his face a deep red again, and the idiot thought it would be best to invade his personal space even more than he already had... by leaning closer and touching his forehead to his. The Italian spluttered and shoved him away, before stomping out of the kitchen with in his head the firm idea to go to his room, lock himself in again, and this time open the door under no circumstances. Said project quickly had to be changed and a new part was added consisting in strangling, or knocking out (whatever came first), the ever-so-cheery person behind him, because the Spaniard had the bright idea to try to calm him down by talking. In Italian. Italian. As if in slow motion, Romano turned around, expression murderous to hide what he really felt like right now (grab him, throw him on the ground, rip his shirt off... no no no. This wasn't right. He must be sick.), and just stared. Spain would surely shut up, if he had a little bit of brain left. "Romano, scusi ! Non volevo infuriarti ! Che cosa posso fare affinché mi perdona ?" "Tappati la bocca." "Ma Romano, se voglio migliorare il mio assento-" "CHIUDI IL BECCO !" he screamed, stubbornly and tightly clasping his hands over his ears. His eyes were slightly red, his cheeks had turned pink long ago, and he was on the verge of tears. He felt exhausted, annoyed, betrayed, close to a mental breakdown, inferior to his brother once again, troubled by all those feelings... He was also hurt and felt very lonely. And on top of all that, he was humiliated, because Spain of all people was speaking Italian. He had no idea how to say this to the person in front of him in a way he would understand though, because he wouldn't know why he felt betrayed or humiliated, so Romano did what he could do best. He turned around. He fled. After all the times he had promised himself not to, he still had. Because it was all he could do now. He didn't feel ready to face Spain with those new feelings because he exactly knew what would happen if he did, and though he was only thinking it Romano had a hard time admitting it, even if only to himself... He would drive him mad, with that sexy Spanish accent.
Notes : Nothing really cultural in here I believe. Only thing I want to point out is that in the notes for the 3rd part, my formulation might have looked like Corsica was a part of Italy. Corsica is of course French territory :) Lovi is finally admitting things to himself, but there still is a little way to go.
Translations : Dios mío (Spa) : My god Mi dispiace : I'm sorry Che ? : What ? Romano, scusi ! Non volevo infuriarti ! Che cosa posso fare affinché mi perdona ? : Romano, sorry " I didn't want to infuriate you ! What can I do for you to forgive me ? Tappati la bocca : Shut up Ma Romano, se voglio migliorare il mio assento- : But Romano, if I want to improve my accent- Sounds rather strange to me... But I'll just hope it's right xD CHIUDI IL BECCO ! : SHUT UP ! [apparently Italians have a great diversity in swearing. I seriously love that language :')
Or planning to get married to Russia.
Either way, he had frozen for a split second, and in another split second, was next to the Italian, his hand on the other's forehead, looking seriously worried and tears at the corner of his eyes. He was babbling about things and others, making a mix of Spanish, English and Italian without noticing it, and Romano could only look at him in pure confusion. What had he just asked anyway ?
He hadn't asked him how his day had been ?
No ?
Well, shit.
"What... What did you ask, bastard ?"
Spain interrupted his lamentations, gave him a surprised look, and repeated his question. "The paella, how is it ?"
"Er... Edible." Romano just noticed the closeness of Spain's face, his face a deep red again, and the idiot thought it would be best to invade his personal space even more than he already had... by leaning closer and touching his forehead to his. The Italian spluttered and shoved him away, before stomping out of the kitchen with in his head the firm idea to go to his room, lock himself in again, and this time open the door under no circumstances. Said project quickly had to be changed and a new part was added consisting in strangling, or knocking out (whatever came first), the ever-so-cheery person behind him, because the Spaniard had the bright idea to try to calm him down by talking.
In Italian.
Italian.
As if in slow motion, Romano turned around, expression murderous to hide what he really felt like right now (grab him, throw him on the ground, rip his shirt off... no no no. This wasn't right. He must be sick.), and just stared. Spain would surely shut up, if he had a little bit of brain left.
"Romano, scusi ! Non volevo infuriarti ! Che cosa posso fare affinché mi perdona ?"
"Tappati la bocca."
"Ma Romano, se voglio migliorare il mio assento-"
"CHIUDI IL BECCO !" he screamed, stubbornly and tightly clasping his hands over his ears.
His eyes were slightly red, his cheeks had turned pink long ago, and he was on the verge of tears. He felt exhausted, annoyed, betrayed, close to a mental breakdown, inferior to his brother once again, troubled by all those feelings... He was also hurt and felt very lonely. And on top of all that, he was humiliated, because Spain of all people was speaking Italian.
He had no idea how to say this to the person in front of him in a way he would understand though, because he wouldn't know why he felt betrayed or humiliated, so Romano did what he could do best.
He turned around. He fled.
After all the times he had promised himself not to, he still had. Because it was all he could do now. He didn't feel ready to face Spain with those new feelings because he exactly knew what would happen if he did, and though he was only thinking it Romano had a hard time admitting it, even if only to himself...
He would drive him mad, with that sexy Spanish accent.
Notes :
Nothing really cultural in here I believe. Only thing I want to point out is that in the notes for the 3rd part, my formulation might have looked like Corsica was a part of Italy. Corsica is of course French territory :)
Lovi is finally admitting things to himself, but there still is a little way to go.
Translations :
Dios mío (Spa) : My god
Mi dispiace : I'm sorry
Che ? : What ?
Romano, scusi ! Non volevo infuriarti ! Che cosa posso fare affinché mi perdona ? : Romano, sorry " I didn't want to infuriate you ! What can I do for you to forgive me ?
Tappati la bocca : Shut up
Ma Romano, se voglio migliorare il mio assento- : But Romano, if I want to improve my accent- Sounds rather strange to me... But I'll just hope it's right xD
CHIUDI IL BECCO ! : SHUT UP ! [apparently Italians have a great diversity in swearing. I seriously love that language :')
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OP!Anon really likes the way this is going xD
That last line is pure WIN. that sexy Spanish accent don't bother trying to deny it, Romano.
*is sitting here refreshing*
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