The Beautiful World (Hetalia Oneshots)

This is my idea/2p Romano

Character: Flavio Vargas/2p Romano

Warning: none

Based off the song "This is my idea" from The Swan Princess, because it stuck on repeat in my head after days of my little sister watching it over and over again.

Seriously,how many times can one person watch it a day?
Plus it brings back some nostalgia.
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Age 8

Flavio

"Nonno," I whined, my arms crossed over my tiny chest, "I don't want to be around her."

"I don't care," he said coldly.
"Nonno-"
"Enough." piercing magenta eyes stared into my own grey ones, "she is staying here, and you will deal with it. Like it or not."

I puffed out my cheeks, and stomped my foot angerly.
"Understood?" he asked.
I gave no response.

"Flavio Romano Vargas," he said harshly making me tense up, "do you understand?"
"Si, Nonno." I sigh.

"Good boy," he ruffed my dark hair lightly, "Go fetch your brother, we'll be leaving soon."
"Yes, sir."

I turned, leaving the room, anger still floating in my chest.
Why did I have to spend all summer with her?
I don't even like her.

Stupid girl.
Stupid (yn).

~*~*~

Nonno, Luciano, and I waited in our carriage for our guests. We were supposed to meet them halfway, on a small road surrounded my a field of wildflowers, and tall grass.

I sat with my arms crossed over my mahogany colored tunic that had a tan vest over it. My right leg crossed over my left, stretching the fabric of my breeches.

I sulked, sighing, or grunting every so often. It was not secret that I didn't want to be here, but no one seemed to care.

Luciano sat the my left, looking put the window, humming quietly. His reflection showed a bored expression, and sullen magenta eyes framed with dark auburn hair.
He would continue his humming until Nonno told him to stop. Then he would start again after a minute or two of silence.

His legs kicked back and forth subtly, the wrinkles in his black breeches stretching out, and back.
His red, and black shirt could have used a washing, but I didn't have a say.

Nonno sat infront of us. His muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. His clothing hung loosely on him, it being his normal attire. Charcole colored robes, and a worn tan shawl.
His eyes remained closed, his curly dark brown hair falling onto his forehead.

Luciano had inherited Nonno's eyes, a unreal shade of magenta, and his rebel nature. I had inherited everything else. The hair, the tan, the combat skills.
It was obvious we were family.
But I didn't care.
He never cares, why should I?

"How much longer?" I ask with a snobby voice, "I'm getting tired of waiting for some stupid ragazza."
"We'll wait as long as we need." Nonno says, not nothing to open his eyes, or move.

I groan, and let my head fall against the glass of the window to my right.
"What's wrong fratello?" Luciano asks giving me a grin, "Don't wanna meet your wife?"

"She's not my wife." I sneer, "I would never marry her, she's gross."
"You don't have a choice." he says with a snarky little face, "you'll get married, and have kids, and there's nothing you can do about it."