(Untitled)

[cuori_di_ferro]

Who: Romano (cuori_di_ferro) and Spain (el_desheredado) (perhaps N.Italy would like to visit at some point too?~)
What: Romano hasn't seen that idiot's face in awhile! So he's looking for him.
When: Early Afternoon
Where: South Wing/Looking for Spain
Warning: Language

Comments

[el_desheredado]

Spain had been up for a few hours--off to the kitchen to get some new ice for the bruises he'd gotten in the library, and some food, and then around the building for a brief walk before he'd gone back to the room. He was going a little stir crazy, confined to the building, but after the encounter with England, he didn't want to have any more run-ins for a while, especially not with any of the administration that might give him a talking to for what they would probably think was poor behavior

[cuori_di_ferro]

"Bahh, nothin' wrong with a man wanting some freedom!" Romano snickered, but quickly limped as fast as he could manage over to Spain's door, trying to keep down a small smile. Somehow he felt better, not as strained anymore now that he was certain at least one thing still hadn't changed about this place. His own wounds from the war had almost healed completely, he was stiff sometimes on his more injured right leg, which was still in his splint but the other was only wrapped up securely in athletic tape.

"I uh...I got bored. So I thought I'd come see what the hell you were-...María, Madre de Dios, what the hell happened to your face?" Romano now noticed the bruising around the other nations head...like he had smacked it straight into something recently and it had smacked back.

"Did you run into a wall during that huge ass black out?" Romano asked, puffing out one of his cheeks and biting the side of his lip, this guy was hopeless! But it wasn't like Romano was worried or anything, no no, absolutely not, why would he be?

[el_desheredado]

Spain smiled with the less bruised size of his face, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck casually as he gestured for Romano to come in.

"Ah, yes. A wall. It was a book shelf, actually. Was in the library, when it happened; silly me." He chuckled a little bit, and shrugged. "You should see the bookshelf. Such a hard head." Still chuckling, he gently wrapped his knuckles on his scalp, and waved Romano in.

"Come on, come on, come in before someone sees you and decides you're all indecent. You and your brother and your obsession with being without pants; silly Italians."

[cuori_di_ferro]

"It's comfortable to sleep in is all! I'm not some airhead like him." Romano didn't need to be told twice as he brushed past Spain to get into his room, sitting down uninvited with a plop in one of the chairs in his room.

"A book shelf huh? Nice going stupid!" It was something the Italian would normally say, but the way he said it had a questioning ring to it still...which sadly gave Romano something akin to Poland's speaking style for a moment before he shuddered it off.

"Those book shelfs man...picking fights. But glad to see you hit it back." Romano nodded to the others knuckles, noting the slight redness on the skin. Romano had punched enough of Spain's head in a lifetime to know it hurts your hand just as bad to punch as it does the skull of the person you punch.

[el_desheredado]

Spain chuckled a little, tucking his hands into his pockets and shuffling a little. He couldn't laugh like he wanted, just waving it off instead and smiling softly.

"Well, I had to defend myself, didn't I? Couldn't very well let the book shelf get away with all that rough housing. Had to show it who the boss was--me! Boss Spain!"

He winced as his voice got louder, but tried to cover it up with a smile.

[cuori_di_ferro]

Romano looked at him silently for a moment, then lifted up the corner of his mouth and puffed up his cheek.

"...what really happened? At first I kinda believed ya, but now I know you're just messing with me!"
The elder Italian crossed his arms and stared at Spain pointedly, "Spit it out, boss. Did one of those orderlies pop you one?"

Despite how irritated Romano sounded there was genuine concern on his face, accented more by the fact he always seemed to blush when he showed his worried side.

[el_desheredado]

"No. No! I'm...absolutely fine!"

Spain sighed a little, though it lightened his heart to see the concern for him. He hid his smile until he was turned into his closet, rifling through his things for his pack of cigarettes and box of matches.

"I just got in a bit of a scuffle. It's nothing. You should see the other guy." Except he was sure England was the better of them at the end of it all, or at least nursing only a more bruised ego.

[cuori_di_ferro]

Romano was silent now, regarding Spain with a look as if he was trying to decide for himself whether to blow off his injuries as nothing or to continue pestering him about them.

With a snort he nodded at the box in Spain's hand, "I want one."
The Italian was very direct when it came to the other man, he knew all to well he could ask him for anything and Spain would half kill himself trying to get it...not that Romano was one to take advantage of that fact.
He didn't even smoke, but for some reason he wanted to if Spain was.

"...so who'd ya beat the shit outta? Hope it was one of those doctors- well not my doctor. He's a pretty okay guy for being one of the potato's men."

[el_desheredado]

Spain sat down on the bed and offered Romano the pack after he'd pulled out one of his cigarettes; it was dwindling fast from stress and habit, but he didn't know how he was supposed to get more. It wasn't like he could go to a corner store around here. He lit his and then handed the box of matches over as well.

For a minute, he was quiet, staring at his knees, then he laughed. "England. Stupid, right? Didn't know he was even in the library. Couldn't even make it a good fight trying to get out of his sorry place."

[cuori_di_ferro]

Romano took the cigarette and put it between his lips, striking the match and lighting it as Spain started to talk- and then he coughed as not only the smoke filled his lungs but as the other said that he had fought that guy.

Taking the cigarette from his mouth to exhale he choked and tried to breathe clearly, "W-what?! England? Wh...are you crazy? I mean that guy seems like a total stuffy woman, but he's scary when he fights!"

The Italian took a drag more slowly this time, pushing the smoke out his nostrils like a bull before letting it out his mouth.
"Shit...no wonder you're so beat to hell. Did you let those doctors look at ya or no?"

[el_desheredado]

"It actually wasn't that bad! I got him down first and everything, and if he hadn't turned, I would have gotten him good with that book I had..." He hummed slightly, smiling a little lopsidedly in memory of his triumph.

The concern in Romano's voice made his hand briefly ghost to his injured rib, before he let it fall again, and he beamed more assuredly as he carefully puffed on his cigarette. None of his inhales were nearly the sort of deep breathes necessary for smoking.

"It's really just the bruises and stuff, nothing to bother the doctors over."