Incondicional - SpaMano

Italianos

I smiled brightly with a tipsy France on one side of me and a drunk Prussia on the other. We all laughed about something silly and pointless, our breaths reeking of alcohol. France had a bottle of red wine in his hand while Prussia held his precious pint of beer closely. I took off the cork from my flask of tequila and raised it up to the night sky, the streetlights glistening through the glass container.

"A toast!" I smirked, looking back and forth between Prussia and France. Prussia raised his pint. 

"To ze most awesome," He started. 

"Le most gorgeous," France added. 

"Most happiest trio on earth! ¡Para los tres mosqueteros!" I chimed in, clinking our glasses of alcohol together.

The night was still young, and soon again mis amigos y yo found ourselves in a nearby bar. Taking a seat in a booth, we each started drunkly placing bets on who could get a phone number from a beautiful first. The rule was that we couldn't bet on ourselves. So naturally, I placed my money on the ladies' man himself; France. Gana el corazón de muchas damas. And it always happened with ease. Of course, Prussia and I had an unfair disadvantage, but I still smiled and went along with it anyway. 

Prussia placed his bet on me, but not without claiming, "I vould have chosen myself if I could! I am ze vest! Vut Frenchy here tends to strike out a lot. So Spain, I trust you." We both turned our heads to meet the gaze of the blue eyed man. He seemed genuinely hurt from Prussia's accusations. 

"Abruti!" France cried, grasping his newly poured wine glass tightly. "Then I pick Spain, too!" And with that, our new game had begun.

France fue primero to try his luck with a beautiful brunette who seemed disinterested in every advance he had tried to make. Prussia laughed obnoxiously as France came back defeated, saying that he was probably too handsome for her to handle. I lightly patted his back and assured him there was always next time.

Prussia stood up, chugging down another mug of beer. He used the cuff of his sleeve to wipe the excess beer that trailed down his chin. "Vatch and learn pretty boys!" He insulted as he cockily walked straight up to a muscly blonde woman. He only managed to get a few words out before she looked completely disgusted and punched him in the face. He staggered backward and raised his hands up as if signaling a cease fire. France rió and became increasingly louder as Prussia made his way back to our booth. "She vasn't my type." He spat, his eyebrows furrowing angrily.

It was my turn. I looked in every direction, trying to spot a girl to hit on. 

"Oh come on! It shouldn't ve zat hard to pick!" Prussia whined. I grinned widely as I noticed a dark haired, olive skinned woman who seemed to look like she needed some fun for the night. "

La encontre." I whispered. France grinned at me as he allowed me to leave the booth. 

"Le floor is yours, Spain." He had said smoothly. I nodded, trying to walk over to the beautiful woman without falling.

When I finally approached her, she hadn't seemed to notice me. I sat next to her at the bar counter. "¡Hola! ¡Que bonita!" I chirped, slurring the compliment. She looked over at me, half surprised and half confused. 

"Are you talking to me?" She smiled slightly, her accent sounding familiar. I had a hunch of what her nationality could be. 

"¡Si! You're Italian, are you not?" I questioned and she giggled, nodding. At least I could get somewhere with her. I've spent enough time with Romano to know these Italian women are easy going.

"A Spanish man, huh? My father warned me about men like you." Despite her comment, she didn't seem intimidated by me in the least. 

"Oh! He told you about how loving and cheerful we are?" I said confidently and she giggled once more, closing her eyes and throwing her head back slightly.