[FanFic] Proposal [2/?]
Antonio shuffled his feet as he went to the front door where rhythmic knocking called him. The Spaniard didn’t even finish opening the door when Francis helps himself in.
“Bonsoir, mon ami!” The French man greeted kissing his friend’s cheeks.
“Hey, Francis. I wasn’t expecting you,” Antonio said putting on a smile. Francis’s face fell as he studied his friend. His eyes -puffed and red- where looking everywhere but at his own. The usual tan skin was surprisingly white. His clothes were wrinkled and covered in food and stains.
“Mon dieu,” The blonde looked down the man again, “What happened?” The Spaniard laughed half heartedly-still smiling- making Francis’s face fall more.
“I’m completely fine,” Antonio croaked, turning to walking into his kitchen with his friend at his heels. “You want anything to eat?” The French man’s eyes widened as he saw the kitchen. The room filled with empty plates and ingredients only suited for one recipe. Francis flipped out his cell phone pressing speed dial as he turned out of the kitchen, Antonio’s wrist gripped in his other hand.
“Gilbert, I’ll meet in the usual spot- It’s for Antonio- I don’t care if you’re in the middle of a raid!-Gilbert, I’m serious- You don’t understand, he’s eating Taco salads!-” Francis panicked into his phone, exiting the Spaniard’s house. “-Mass quantities. - my thoughts exactly.”
“What’s wrong with taco salads?” Antonio asked being dragged into the French man’s car. His friend flipped his cell phone close and revved up the engine to his sports car ignoring the Spaniard’s question and sped out of the driveway.
They pulled into an old bar that held many memories to the bad trio. Francis hurried Antonio in through the door spying Gilbert already drinking a beer at the counter. “Antonio you depressed bastard!” Gilbert yelled at his friend as the two took a seat at the bar, making Antonio sit in the middle of them. “You just had to go and eat taco salads while I was in a twenty man raid,” he mumbled into his glass before taking a sip. Francis ordered him and Antonio drinks as the Spaniard put on another smile.
“I’m fine you guys-“
“Oh fuck, he’s got that fake smile goin’ on,” Gilbert observed, eyes widen. Antonio let his gaze fall on the surface of the counter, the smile still plastered on his face. The German scratched his face and swiveled in the stool in discomfort from not good at these types of situations. “So -er… what’s this about?” Antonio stayed silent ad his and Francis’s drinks were placed in front of them.
“Mon ami, please tell us,” The French man laid a hand on his shoulder before he grabbed his own drink.
“You told me to cook, Francis.” Antonio said, voice cracking, still smiling, gaze never leaving the counter. “Then Gilbert told me to be creative.” Francis’s mind finally caught up remembering when the Spaniard asked for advice for his “friend’s” proposal. “And I even tried being blunt.”
“Mon dieu,” The French man gaped, as he worked together Antonio’s misery. Gilbert’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion trying to remember. “You proposed didn’t you?” The German spat out some of his beer as he exclaimed a long ‘ah’ in realization, pointing a finger at Antonio.
“So you got rejected?” Gilbert questioned smiling in his own brilliance. Antonio shook his head ‘no’. Gilbert’s smile faded as he thought over the predicament. “So… it was a ‘yes’?” The Spaniard shook his head again. Gilbert took another swing of his beer in confusion.
“I-…“ Antonio’s fingers played around the cold glass in front of him, “I couldn’t even ask Lovi,” He choked barely getting Lovino’s nickname out, lowering his head to the counter, putting pressure on his forehead. “And I may have ruined our relationship.” Francis rubbed soothing circles into his back.
“So much for the country of Passion,” Gilbert said with a sarcastic tone. The Spaniard sank down further into the counter, his head dangerously close to falling off the counter completely.
“Gilbert,” The French man shot him a glare, “Reverse psychology isn’t helping at all.” The German swiveled his chair around in guilt, mumbling an apology. Francis raised Antonio up in his chair slowly and gently by his shoulders. “At least drink a bit,” he handed Antonio his drink who drank it all in silence.
After a few rounds of drinks, Antonio was finally a little bit happier. Gilbert was blabbering on about his online video game to distract his thoughts while Francis kept the conversations going. The bell to the bar’s entrance rang as a group of people came into the bar.
“Oh! Francis,” one of the people said surprised at the encounter. Francis swiveled his chair towards the voice.
“Mathieu! What a surprise!” He said in a velvet voice kissing Matthew’s cheeks in greeting as he came to greet him. “What are you doing here?” He asked slipping his hands into the Canadian’s, entwining their fingers together. Antonio’s stomach fell as he saw the couple in the cute scene they had made.
“I’m getting ice for Alfred,” Matthew tilted his head to the group he came in with. There was Alfred -with a black eye that could be described as freakin' nasty- knocked out, being dragged to one of the bar’s couches by Ludwig and Arthur with Feliciano following closely behind them. Gilbert laughed at the sight as the other two of the trio raised their eyebrows in confusion.
“Bloody hell,” Arthur murmured as he inspected Alfred’s swollen face. His eyes drifted to Matthew holding hands with France. “Matthew could you please get the ice?” The Canadian quickly took back his hands from the older man a bit embarrassed as he went to order some ice. The Britain stood in front of the couch Alfred was laid on. Gilbert continued to laugh as Ludwig walked over.
“I would like to meet the man who would dare hit Alfred of all people! Do they want a war or somethin’?” Gilbert laughed loudly. Ludwig smacked his elder brother’s drunken head. “Owch! West, you didn’t have to hit me!” He whined holding his head in pain.
“Be quiet, bruder. I was the one who hit Alfred,” Ludwig admitted, taking a seat next to Gilbert. Gilbert sputtered unrecognizable words as he gaped at Ludwig.
“Do you want to start a war between Germany and America?” Gilbert cried out pulling his own hair. Ludwig opened his mouth to reject. “I’m so proud of you Bruder!” The younger brother smacked his head again and ordered a drink.
“What exactly happened?” Francis asked the surprisingly silent Feliciano. The Italian turned to face the French man with teary expression.
“I had a twitch.” Feliciano said in guilt. Ludwig sighed as the trio stared in confusion at the Italian. Arthur walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault, lad.” Arthur rolled his eyes in annoyance. “This lad had a few twitches in his neck and that idiot over there thought he was doing a bad impression of Thriller,” He pointed over his shoulder to said idiot.
“He tried to attack me!” Feliciano said in a happy tone, jumping up into Ludwig’s lap. “Ve~ but Ludwig saved me!” The German diverted his eyes as he felt the blush sneak up on his face as the Italian snuggled into his broad chest. Matthew had come back with a bag of ice, only to have it taken from his hand by Arthur quickly - but gently- putting it on Alfred’s eye, brushing some of his hair out of his face. The Canadian walked back over to Francis who snaked an arm around him. Antonio looked at all the couples, smiling a bit seeing how happy they were imagining that it was him and Lovino instead.
Gilbert frowned as he felt the love-dovey feeling that had just come up from everyone. “…Am I the only one that’s straight?”
Alfred had started to come around about the time the bar tender was complaining about them staying to long without buying drinks. They had paid their bills -Francis buying Antonio’s- and headed out. Before Feliciano got into his sports car- where Ludwig sat in the driver seat not wanting to let the Italian drive while there were other people in the car- Antonio grabbed his shoulder to stop him.
“Feli, I need your help.” Antonio stated feeling guilt bubble in his stomach.
“Ve~ what’s up?” He chirped turning to face the Spaniard. Antonio looked down at his feet.
“Can you talk to Lovi?” He paused to rub his arm, “He won’t talk to me anymore, and I feel sick about myself knowing that it’s my own fault.” He chuckled nervously. Feliciano’s eyes grew wide; Antonio was the only person, besides himself, his brother really ever had for a friend. Feliciano nodded, not knowing how to respond and ran to get into his car. Antonio sighed as France pulled him along towards the car feeling the need for a taco salad.
----Extra scene-----
Ludwig and Feliciano where walking back to their car from the strip mall they had visited. “Ve~Ve~ Ludwig, can we go somewhere to eat?” The German looked down at the bubbly Italian and couldn’t help but smile at his natural happiness. He nodded and watched Feliciano’s face light up even more.
Twitch.
Ludwig let out a low chuckle as Feliciano blinked in confusion, his head suddenly on his shoulder. The Italian kept his head on his shoulder and looked up at Ludwig for an explanation.
“Don’t worry, it was just a twitch.”Ludwig said answering the unasked question. Feliciano straiten his neck out and smiled at the taller man.
“Ve~ Ludwig’s so smart!”
Twitch.
The Italian let out a yelp of surprise at the quick return of the twitch. He straightened out his neck again.
Twitch.
“Ludwig, I don’t think my neck likes me that much.”
Twitch.
Twitch.
Twitch.
Ludwig watched as the Italian had war with his own neck.
“Bloody hell, Alfred you idiot!” yelled a voice.
“Look out!!!” Another screamed. Ludwig turned to the direction of all the commotion to see Alfred charging at Feliciano.
“Stop making fun of MJ!” The American yelled raising his fist, still charging. Before Ludwig could even think, his fist met Alfred’s face. Ludwig gaped, fist frozen in the air, watching the American fall flat on his back.
“Ve! Ludwig!” Feliciano screamed in horror. “You’re not supposed to hit people with glasses!” The German’s eyes drifted to Texas.
“O-oh mein gott.”
Matthew ran over apologizing to the two as Arthur caught his breath from running. “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what got to Alfred.” The Canadian apologized to the dumbstruck couple. Were they apologizing to them?!
“Oh, you bloody well know what got to Alfred!” Arthur scoffed finally catching his breath while nudging Alfred with his foot. “He was thinking that chap was doing that ridiculous ‘Thriller’ dance.” Matthew looked away from his brother in embarrassment. Arthur sighed as he bent down trying to lift the American. “God, Alfred. You really need to go on a diet.”The Brittan was finally able to lift him with the help of Ludwig.
“Ve~ can we go eat now?”
Twitch.
------Author's note------
this wasn't originally planned, but it turned out this way. I'm disappointed in it. and hate this chapter. I barely had any Spain it, and no Romano at all. it seems like it was more of a filler than a chapter. the only points I wanted to get across was that Spain got his ideas from France and Prussia and get Italy to talk to Romano. Expect Italy bro's next chapter.
“Bonsoir, mon ami!” The French man greeted kissing his friend’s cheeks.
“Hey, Francis. I wasn’t expecting you,” Antonio said putting on a smile. Francis’s face fell as he studied his friend. His eyes -puffed and red- where looking everywhere but at his own. The usual tan skin was surprisingly white. His clothes were wrinkled and covered in food and stains.
“Mon dieu,” The blonde looked down the man again, “What happened?” The Spaniard laughed half heartedly-still smiling- making Francis’s face fall more.
“I’m completely fine,” Antonio croaked, turning to walking into his kitchen with his friend at his heels. “You want anything to eat?” The French man’s eyes widened as he saw the kitchen. The room filled with empty plates and ingredients only suited for one recipe. Francis flipped out his cell phone pressing speed dial as he turned out of the kitchen, Antonio’s wrist gripped in his other hand.
“Gilbert, I’ll meet in the usual spot- It’s for Antonio- I don’t care if you’re in the middle of a raid!-Gilbert, I’m serious- You don’t understand, he’s eating Taco salads!-” Francis panicked into his phone, exiting the Spaniard’s house. “-Mass quantities. - my thoughts exactly.”
“What’s wrong with taco salads?” Antonio asked being dragged into the French man’s car. His friend flipped his cell phone close and revved up the engine to his sports car ignoring the Spaniard’s question and sped out of the driveway.
They pulled into an old bar that held many memories to the bad trio. Francis hurried Antonio in through the door spying Gilbert already drinking a beer at the counter. “Antonio you depressed bastard!” Gilbert yelled at his friend as the two took a seat at the bar, making Antonio sit in the middle of them. “You just had to go and eat taco salads while I was in a twenty man raid,” he mumbled into his glass before taking a sip. Francis ordered him and Antonio drinks as the Spaniard put on another smile.
“I’m fine you guys-“
“Oh fuck, he’s got that fake smile goin’ on,” Gilbert observed, eyes widen. Antonio let his gaze fall on the surface of the counter, the smile still plastered on his face. The German scratched his face and swiveled in the stool in discomfort from not good at these types of situations. “So -er… what’s this about?” Antonio stayed silent ad his and Francis’s drinks were placed in front of them.
“Mon ami, please tell us,” The French man laid a hand on his shoulder before he grabbed his own drink.
“You told me to cook, Francis.” Antonio said, voice cracking, still smiling, gaze never leaving the counter. “Then Gilbert told me to be creative.” Francis’s mind finally caught up remembering when the Spaniard asked for advice for his “friend’s” proposal. “And I even tried being blunt.”
“Mon dieu,” The French man gaped, as he worked together Antonio’s misery. Gilbert’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion trying to remember. “You proposed didn’t you?” The German spat out some of his beer as he exclaimed a long ‘ah’ in realization, pointing a finger at Antonio.
“So you got rejected?” Gilbert questioned smiling in his own brilliance. Antonio shook his head ‘no’. Gilbert’s smile faded as he thought over the predicament. “So… it was a ‘yes’?” The Spaniard shook his head again. Gilbert took another swing of his beer in confusion.
“I-…“ Antonio’s fingers played around the cold glass in front of him, “I couldn’t even ask Lovi,” He choked barely getting Lovino’s nickname out, lowering his head to the counter, putting pressure on his forehead. “And I may have ruined our relationship.” Francis rubbed soothing circles into his back.
“So much for the country of Passion,” Gilbert said with a sarcastic tone. The Spaniard sank down further into the counter, his head dangerously close to falling off the counter completely.
“Gilbert,” The French man shot him a glare, “Reverse psychology isn’t helping at all.” The German swiveled his chair around in guilt, mumbling an apology. Francis raised Antonio up in his chair slowly and gently by his shoulders. “At least drink a bit,” he handed Antonio his drink who drank it all in silence.
After a few rounds of drinks, Antonio was finally a little bit happier. Gilbert was blabbering on about his online video game to distract his thoughts while Francis kept the conversations going. The bell to the bar’s entrance rang as a group of people came into the bar.
“Oh! Francis,” one of the people said surprised at the encounter. Francis swiveled his chair towards the voice.
“Mathieu! What a surprise!” He said in a velvet voice kissing Matthew’s cheeks in greeting as he came to greet him. “What are you doing here?” He asked slipping his hands into the Canadian’s, entwining their fingers together. Antonio’s stomach fell as he saw the couple in the cute scene they had made.
“I’m getting ice for Alfred,” Matthew tilted his head to the group he came in with. There was Alfred -with a black eye that could be described as freakin' nasty- knocked out, being dragged to one of the bar’s couches by Ludwig and Arthur with Feliciano following closely behind them. Gilbert laughed at the sight as the other two of the trio raised their eyebrows in confusion.
“Bloody hell,” Arthur murmured as he inspected Alfred’s swollen face. His eyes drifted to Matthew holding hands with France. “Matthew could you please get the ice?” The Canadian quickly took back his hands from the older man a bit embarrassed as he went to order some ice. The Britain stood in front of the couch Alfred was laid on. Gilbert continued to laugh as Ludwig walked over.
“I would like to meet the man who would dare hit Alfred of all people! Do they want a war or somethin’?” Gilbert laughed loudly. Ludwig smacked his elder brother’s drunken head. “Owch! West, you didn’t have to hit me!” He whined holding his head in pain.
“Be quiet, bruder. I was the one who hit Alfred,” Ludwig admitted, taking a seat next to Gilbert. Gilbert sputtered unrecognizable words as he gaped at Ludwig.
“Do you want to start a war between Germany and America?” Gilbert cried out pulling his own hair. Ludwig opened his mouth to reject. “I’m so proud of you Bruder!” The younger brother smacked his head again and ordered a drink.
“What exactly happened?” Francis asked the surprisingly silent Feliciano. The Italian turned to face the French man with teary expression.
“I had a twitch.” Feliciano said in guilt. Ludwig sighed as the trio stared in confusion at the Italian. Arthur walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault, lad.” Arthur rolled his eyes in annoyance. “This lad had a few twitches in his neck and that idiot over there thought he was doing a bad impression of Thriller,” He pointed over his shoulder to said idiot.
“He tried to attack me!” Feliciano said in a happy tone, jumping up into Ludwig’s lap. “Ve~ but Ludwig saved me!” The German diverted his eyes as he felt the blush sneak up on his face as the Italian snuggled into his broad chest. Matthew had come back with a bag of ice, only to have it taken from his hand by Arthur quickly - but gently- putting it on Alfred’s eye, brushing some of his hair out of his face. The Canadian walked back over to Francis who snaked an arm around him. Antonio looked at all the couples, smiling a bit seeing how happy they were imagining that it was him and Lovino instead.
Gilbert frowned as he felt the love-dovey feeling that had just come up from everyone. “…Am I the only one that’s straight?”
Alfred had started to come around about the time the bar tender was complaining about them staying to long without buying drinks. They had paid their bills -Francis buying Antonio’s- and headed out. Before Feliciano got into his sports car- where Ludwig sat in the driver seat not wanting to let the Italian drive while there were other people in the car- Antonio grabbed his shoulder to stop him.
“Feli, I need your help.” Antonio stated feeling guilt bubble in his stomach.
“Ve~ what’s up?” He chirped turning to face the Spaniard. Antonio looked down at his feet.
“Can you talk to Lovi?” He paused to rub his arm, “He won’t talk to me anymore, and I feel sick about myself knowing that it’s my own fault.” He chuckled nervously. Feliciano’s eyes grew wide; Antonio was the only person, besides himself, his brother really ever had for a friend. Feliciano nodded, not knowing how to respond and ran to get into his car. Antonio sighed as France pulled him along towards the car feeling the need for a taco salad.
----Extra scene-----
Ludwig and Feliciano where walking back to their car from the strip mall they had visited. “Ve~Ve~ Ludwig, can we go somewhere to eat?” The German looked down at the bubbly Italian and couldn’t help but smile at his natural happiness. He nodded and watched Feliciano’s face light up even more.
Twitch.
Ludwig let out a low chuckle as Feliciano blinked in confusion, his head suddenly on his shoulder. The Italian kept his head on his shoulder and looked up at Ludwig for an explanation.
“Don’t worry, it was just a twitch.”Ludwig said answering the unasked question. Feliciano straiten his neck out and smiled at the taller man.
“Ve~ Ludwig’s so smart!”
Twitch.
The Italian let out a yelp of surprise at the quick return of the twitch. He straightened out his neck again.
Twitch.
“Ludwig, I don’t think my neck likes me that much.”
Twitch.
Twitch.
Twitch.
Ludwig watched as the Italian had war with his own neck.
“Bloody hell, Alfred you idiot!” yelled a voice.
“Look out!!!” Another screamed. Ludwig turned to the direction of all the commotion to see Alfred charging at Feliciano.
“Stop making fun of MJ!” The American yelled raising his fist, still charging. Before Ludwig could even think, his fist met Alfred’s face. Ludwig gaped, fist frozen in the air, watching the American fall flat on his back.
“Ve! Ludwig!” Feliciano screamed in horror. “You’re not supposed to hit people with glasses!” The German’s eyes drifted to Texas.
“O-oh mein gott.”
Matthew ran over apologizing to the two as Arthur caught his breath from running. “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what got to Alfred.” The Canadian apologized to the dumbstruck couple. Were they apologizing to them?!
“Oh, you bloody well know what got to Alfred!” Arthur scoffed finally catching his breath while nudging Alfred with his foot. “He was thinking that chap was doing that ridiculous ‘Thriller’ dance.” Matthew looked away from his brother in embarrassment. Arthur sighed as he bent down trying to lift the American. “God, Alfred. You really need to go on a diet.”The Brittan was finally able to lift him with the help of Ludwig.
“Ve~ can we go eat now?”
Twitch.
------Author's note------
this wasn't originally planned, but it turned out this way. I'm disappointed in it. and hate this chapter. I barely had any Spain it, and no Romano at all. it seems like it was more of a filler than a chapter. the only points I wanted to get across was that Spain got his ideas from France and Prussia and get Italy to talk to Romano. Expect Italy bro's next chapter.