Having An Interesting Day At Work
WHO: Spain, Romano
WHEN: Monday lunchtime
WHERE: Dos Llamas
WHAT: A Hectic Schedule
( Drama at the Llama )
WHEN: Monday lunchtime
WHERE: Dos Llamas
WHAT: A Hectic Schedule
( Drama at the Llama )
All he wanted was something decent enough to combat the growing migraine and constant reminder that he was surrounded by retards.
Actually perhaps a strong spirit may have been better...
In the short time it took Antonio to return, Romano had shifted to a more comfortable position with his head resting in his palm and elbow on the table. The wine menu had hardly been touched and lay a few inches from his arm, evidently rejected for having very little in the way of Italian selection.
He raised his head to talk, only to find that Antonio had disappeared off again. Godamnit I was here first! They can wait!
Impatient and wanting to sleep, Romano plucked up the wine menu again. Something like Aglianico would have been perfect..or even Nero d'Avola... ( ... )
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Romano was a little taken back, he hadn't expected the Spaniard's puppy-dog 'loyalty' to stretch that far, and had no problem ignoring the other less impressed customers.
This was simply the equivalent to 'mates rates' and Romano paid with something more precious than money and time- his sanity. He was quite sure that if anyone managed to drive him completely insane, it would be Antonio.
The apology went right over his head as Romano took up the bottle of wine and inspected it thoroughly. Was it possible that he'd entirely overlooked this on the selection? Unless Antonio had been hiding it from him, that bastard!
Curious, he brought the tip of the glass to his lips to taste the wine itself. It wasn't that bad at all. Of course it's good, He concluded to himself with a grin, It's proper Italian!
"Hey..." The glass was tilted towards Antonio, "Where'd you get this from?"
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"Twenty more minutes" The tanned man said happily, really too tired to think of anything else to say. He didn't even know why he said it seeing as it couldn't really start a conversation but it was too late now so it didn't matter. His gaze fell back to Romano and he offered a small smile before his gaze fell again to the dirty dishes. He would have to clean those up.
Eventually.
Right now he just felt like sitting here and relaxing. Listening in on other peoples conversation, not on purpose of course but people did talk rather loudly, and letting his eyes slide halfway closed in his sleepiness.
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"Twenty minutes" Romano echoed, his head dropping further into the palm of his hand. If there was anything that made Antonio endurable, it was the similarities between Italian and Spanish culture. They agreed on little, but it was what they did agree on- mainly Tomatoes and Siestas- that was important.
Twenty minutes wasn't much..he could last that long. The restaurant had cleared out a little, which allowed him to relax without the hectic and layered background noise that had been present upon arrival.
Romano downed his glass and started on the second Empanada. Three glasses of wine coupled with an increasing want to nap had made him quite complacent, and with Antonio hardly talking the atmosphere was almost peaceful.
Almost.
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Antonio stretched his arms above his head and leaned back in the chair, causing his shirt to come untucked and expose a little bit of a well toned stomach as he did so. Not that the Spanish man realized of course. He felt his back pop with a small noise that was drowned out by the murmur of people coming in for a late lunch before returning to a lazy sitting position with his hands folded in his lap.
Spain hummed a little song to himself as he waited patiently, his gaze flicking to the clock before back to the boy sharing the table. Five more minutes and they could leave.
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The Italian began to fancy his chances of picking the lock himself, however last time he had tried that the security had mistaken him for a thief, and Feli had questioned him endlessly with where he obtained such skills.
It'd be so much easier to tell the retard about the mafia and get it over with.
The clock struck 2.30 and Romano pushed the plate away from him without so much as a 'thank you.' From Antonio's comments and adherence to Spanish culture, Romano imagined he'd be leaving soon as well. At least there was one other person who didn't surrender so hopelessly to the American way of living- it was disgusting!
Pushing his chair back he reached for his bag, making no gesture or implication of paying for the meal. If Antonio wanted money he'd ask.
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"You're welcome to take your siesta at my house. Unless of course you can get a hold of Feliciano that is" Spain offered, patting his pockets for his apartment key to make sure he hadn't forgotten it in the apron. He had done that so many times that he had finally gotten into the habit of checking before he left. He then flashed a brilliant smile at Romano before walking towards the door, leading the Italian out.
He would pay for both the meal and the wine later. Somehow.
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A Siesta...at his place? A proper Siesta? A naked Siesta? [note: Romano's a little slow sometimes]
With such hastiness that could be considered offensive to Antonio, Romano whipped out his phone and stared blankly at the screen. No messages, no emails. In a few clicks he quickly accessed the net, and found no comments either.
Well...he was tired, and didn't find the prospect of sleeping ala drunkard style on the doorstep but...
Without gesturing to his companion, Romano quick-dialed in Feliciano's work number.
Silence.
"I am going to kill that son of a bitch!"
Finally, he acknowledged Antonio again, behaving as if the last few minutes had never happened. "Fine. I'll go."
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Antonio of course took no offense at how quickly the phone was wiped out. Of course, he probably wouldn't take offense to anything short of someone punching him in the face. He chuckled lightly at the outburst when Romano had failed to contact his brother yet again, through four different methods. Even Antonio had realized how hard it was to get a hold of Feliciano. After all, the younger Italian was more oblivious than he was sometimes.
"Muy bueno!" Antonio said, clapping his hands together once in happiness. Yes, he was that happy. He led his Italian companion down the streets and within two blocks they had come to the apartment building that he stayed at. It wasn't nearly as nice as the ones downtown but it had a homeless homey air about it ( ... )
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Stepping into the apartment Romano suddenly became very grateful for the room he'd been able to share with his brother, even if it was through under-the-table means. He let out a noticeable sigh of relief upon entry, the evident lack of a roommate meant Antonio had the whole apartment to himself, which meant more room for Romano.
Had the other been so daft as to suggest they *share* a bed, Romano probably would have cursed and left then and there.
Not only that but, the bedroom had a *lock.* Once he managed to block out all external reminders that he was not home, he would be able to sleep comfortably.
Placing a hand on the doorknob he turned to glance back at his friend; he had no idea how long Antonio had been working straight for, but the man must've been a wreckToo exhausted to snap or even consider treating him with conscious disdain- for even Romano was able to acknowledge the care and self-sacrifice that went into that evening- he simply dropped his head and sighed ( ... )
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The layout was spacious, and the bed large enough for him to sprawl out on. If only the entire room didn't smell sickeningly like Antonio it would have been perfect.
Exhaustion hit him like a truck, and Romano stumbled over to collapse on the bed, removing his shirt in the process. The idea of removing everything in a bed and room that wasn't his own bothered him slightly, opting to at least keep his boxers on. After all it wasn't as hot as it used to get in Italy.
Curled up underneath the blankets he averted his gaze sluggishly towards the door; he hadn't locked it. For someone so influenced by the mafia it was not a habit he was proud of, but at home the front door was always locked and there was often only Feliciano around (when he wasn't working of course) so he had no reason to bother. If the mafia was on your side, there was very little you had to worry about.
Besides, if anyone visited they'd run into Antonio first-no one would bother him.
And with that final thought in mind Romano rolled over and fell asleep.
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Something that he would pay dearly for later.
The Spaniard shifted from the couch, rising to a standing position and rubbing his eye sleepily. He didn't even bother opening his eyes all the way as he zombie walked shuffled into his bedroom, finding the door unlocked as usual and knowing the layout well enough that he wouldn't run into anything. When he caught sight of someone sleeping in his bed he immediately remembered who it was ( ... )
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