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.
"Something like that. Buona. Il mio nome è Bella. And yours?" She questioned. I didn't know much Italian, aside from the words Romano spat at me when he was angry, but it was close enough to Spanish that I deciphered that she was speaking of her name and she was asking me for mine.
"Bella? Such a fitting name for a face like yours. Me llamo Antonio." I answered proudly. She smiled innocently at me. Her grin quickly faded from her pretty face as she reached into her purse, pulling out a small phone.
She checked the time and cursed softly in Italian. "Mi dispiace! I have to go! It's getting late. Talking to you was interesting. I don't have any paper, but I have a pen. May I write my number on your hand?" She spoke sweetly and it was nice to hear an Italian accent being used in such a kind way rather than the constant cursing Romano usually shouted at me.
"Si. Of course you can." I told her. She smiled as she found a pen and grabbed my hand. Her soft skin reminded me of Romano's, who was probably back at home sleeping. After penning down her number, we said our goodbyes and she left the bar.
I walked back to the booth as my friends both grinned from ear to ear. "I guess vetting on you was a good idea after all." Prussia let out.
France clapped happily, "Le Spaniard wins this round."
I took a bow, accepting the praise.
"But ze night isn't over yet!" Prussia insisted.
~
The night had ended with a bunch of great attempts of capturing the digits of many women, but there was no actual success that happened with other women. Bella was the only woman who lent out her number, which inevitably meant that I lost the bet but won the challenge.
I staggered up the Spanish steps and twisted the knob on the door, finding it to be unlocked. "Romano must've been expecting me earlier if he left the door unlocked. Loco." I grinned softly, stepping slowly into the stone house. I silently closed the door behind me and started to make my way to my room before hearing an all too familiar voice call out to me.
"Tomato bastard! Where have you been all night?!" I turned around to see Romano flicker on the hallway light. He crossed his arms, glaring at me angrily. "I was hungry, you bastard. You were supposed to cook tonight."
My horrible memory was jumbled up due to the enormous amounts of tequila I had consumed. "Lo siento, Romano. I forgot." I said, laughing a little as I scratched my head. I suppose the promise had slipped my mind when France and Prussia dragged me to the first bar with them.
"You idiot! You are always out with that stupid cheese freak and that potato bastard's brother! Did I even cross your mind once?!" Romano's face began to turn red like a tomato. The cute sight caused me to grin even harder. I began to walk closer to him.
"To be fair, si, pensé en ti. I spoke to an Italian girl and she reminded me of you." I explained.
Romano tensed up and his angry aura was overwhelming. "So you rather be out getting drunk off your ass and talking to whores all night?! Is it that you just love women more than-" Romano stopped mid sentence, his face deepened it's red color and he crossed his arms. "Not like I care! I was just really hungry and expected you to come home and cook dinner!" Romano yelled loudly, his frustration apparent in his voice.
I had let out a small sigh but smiled nonetheless as I reached the adorable Italian who had been awaiting my arrival. Romano looked down quickly, refusing to meet my gaze. "I will spend all day with you tomorrow if you'd like, mi amor." I offered, reaching up to touch his soft face.
Romano breathed in sharply, grabbing my wrist and pointing at the numbers on the back of my hand. He raised his head, his face completely crimson and his eyes wide with fury. "So this is what you really do on these kinds of nights, eh?!"
I opened my mouth to explain the bet, but stopped when a single tear fell down the reddened cheek of the man before me. Romano's expression softened for a second, then hardened again as he threw my arm to the side. Quickly wiping the tear away, his eyebrow twitched a little and he turned around.
"Whatever! I'm going to bed! Stupid tomato bastard!" I didn't have enough time to react to Romano's words before he ran back to his room and slammed the door shut.
All the shouting he had been doing hurt my head, but I declared to myself that I needed to go and sincerely apologize to him despite my pain. I slowly inched my drunken way to his room across the tile floor, thinking the entire way there how I felt really bad for making him wait for me; thinking about how I hurt Romano to the point of causing him to cry.
I tried to twist the doorknob, but to no avail. He locked it in order to keep me as far away from him as possible. I knocked on the door, calling out, "Romano~" The smell of the tequila on my breath reflected off the door and made its way into my nose. I chuckled slightly and backed away from the door, not wanting to inhale the stench.
"Go away bastardo!" Romano shouted from behind the door, clearly unwilling to negotiate any sort of compromise.
"I'm sorry for making you wait and for making you cry, Romano. I'll make you breakfast tomorrow~ Please forgive me." I tried to plead with him. All I needed was for him to forgive me. Never had I intended this night ending like this. Maybe I had anticipated the shouting, but I hadn't ever dreamed of making him cry.
"No! Besides, I wasn't crying! Now go away!" He responded. A loud thud resounded from the door. It was clear Romano had thrown something heavy against it, hoping I would leave him be.
"I'll use my special charm." I persistently stated, pressing myself against the wall to keep balance.
"It doesn't fucking work!" Romano claimed angrily. I didn't care. I thought it worked just fine. I smiled, slowly sliding down the wall.
"Fusosososo~" Romano groaned and stated it was never going to work. But I was willing to keep trying.
"Fusosososo~" I repeated much softer this time, sitting on the floor next to Romano's door. My eyelids began to feel much heavier than before.
"Fucking idiot..." I heard Romano say faintly through the door.
"Fusosososo~" My voice was more like a whisper as it trailed off. I slowly closed my eyes, accidentally falling asleep.