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Waking up in the middle of the night to screaming was not what Antonio was expecting when he let Romano stay the night. Well more like he had to let him stay the night when he randomly called in the afternoon saying that he was visiting. It wasn’t like he minded, Romano was welcomed in his home whenever he wanted! But he was probably going to have to kick him out if he couldn’t get any sleep.
Shuffling out of bed he slowly made his way to the other’s room. It was only two in the morning so he couldn’t possibly understand what was yelling about. He was also speaking Italian, which only added to his confusion. All he heard was something like “non parlo spagnolo”… He assumed it was another petty argument with Mexico, those two never got along— even as little kids! He didn’t understand why they hung out so often but then again he never really understood the boy. He assumed it was America’s doing. He was close with Mexico and Romano, he even got the latter into a relationship with Lithuania! He wouldn’t be surprised if he convinced them to at least tolerate each other.
Leaning against the door he heard more the conversation, which only added to his confusion. It was not just Mexico, but America, Italy, Germany, and Prussia. For some reason no one was speaking English despite all of them speaking it (they weren’t using mother tongue either). Random shouts in Spanish and only more shouting in Italian… He loved Romano— he really did! But he couldn’t stand all the noise… He just wanted to sleep…
“Romano…” He mumbled as he opened the door, “It’s two in the morning… ¿Por qué gritas?” (what are you yelling about?)
The younger nation yelped at the sight of him which really didn’t help his sleepy state stay longer. He watched him scramble to mute himself (he assumed) and take off his headphones but they were so loud it didn’t even matter, he heard all the whispers on the other end.
“Ah, è la Spagna? Salutalo da parte mia!” (Is that Spain? Tell him I said hi!)
“Ew. No hay necesidad de querer tanto a ese bastardo.” (There’s need to like that bastard so much)
Romano only huffed, crossing his arms as he glared at him as if he was being a nuisance! “Don’t scare me like that you bastard! Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Busy? I wouldn’t call yelling at everyone so late into the night as being busy. You know my neighbors are going to be annoyed by all the yelling…”
“Sì, sì I get it…” He put his headphones back on, “Not my fault these bastards don’t know how to communicate.”
“You’re not even speaking the same language?”
“Yeah that’s the point, idiota. Anyways I’ll keep it down I guess.”
He was going to question it but ultimately decided to just shake his head and move on. He could finally get some sleep! Walking back to his room he felt much better, after all he had only gone to bed a few hours ago— he needed much more sleep than what he would be getting than if he didn’t talk to Romano! He laid back in his bed and closed his eyes, ready to rest until somewhere around ten in the morning.
Until ten minutes after closing his eyes he was alerted by even more screaming from Romano. He figured that it was just a one off thing that he just got scared from whatever game he was playing. As the night wears on however he realized that it was, in fact, not a one off thing because the screaming continued. He didn’t want to kick him out but he would lose it if he couldn’t sleep. So he got up once more, mumbling almost every curse he could think of before opening the door with a bit more force than he had intended.
“È proprio lì, idiota, sei cieco?! Forse non stiamo parlando della stessa cosa, ma (It’s right there you idiot are you blind?! We might not be speaking the same thing but)…” Romano trailed off, muting himself again and looking at Antonio. “… Oh… Sorry…”
“No no it’s ok. It’s just… what happens when I’m going to take that computer, disconnect it, and shove the whole thing up your ass?” He knew he had never spoken to Romano like that before but he knew he deserved it in the moment. He could almost be as bad as America when it came to volume. At least both of them knew when to whisper— just not at this moment he supposed.
“What…? I don’t know…”
“Well if you don’t want to find out, let’s quiet it down, ok?”
“… Ok…”
Antonio hummed, “Good!” As he walked back to his room he sighed, laying down once again and finally closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.
Lovino only stared at the door. The fuck was he on about…? He knew he was loud but he didn’t think that Spain of all countries would threaten him for it. In such a weird way too… He didn’t even think he was capable of doing that— fighting yes he knew that— but threatening him? He must’ve been in some sort of hell.
“Yo, Romano! ¡Apúrate y regresa! ¡Prusia murió y Italia está demasiado asustada para avanzar!” (Hurry up and come back! Prussia died and Italy is too scared to move forward!) It was America calling him back to the game. He had gotten so lost trying to figure out what the hell happened he forgot all about it. Seriously, what the hell happened to that man?! “por supuesto, México también murió—" (of course Mexico also died)
“¡Fue tu culpa, idiota! Si no te hubieras escapado como una niñita, todavía estaría vivo, imbécil inútil—“ (It was your fault asshole! If you hadn’t ran off like a little girl I would still be alive you useless pussy—!)
“Aye, Sono qui, sono qui, Fredo. Voi idioti non sapete fare niente senza di me, eh?” (I’m here I’m here, Fredo. You idiots can’t do anything without me, huh?)
“Haces que parezca que eres tan importante.” (you make it seem like you’re so important)
“Ve~ Ora abbiamo la possibilità di vincere con questi tre!” (Now we have a chance of winning with these three)
“Ja, ich glaube, das wird einfach sein.” (Yes, I believe this will be easy)
“Non ho idea di cosa tu abbia appena detto e mi rifiuto di essere d'accordo con un mangiatore di patate.” (I have no idea what you just said and I refuse to agree with a potato eater.)
“Ha! Was für ein Idiot! Jetzt wirst du durchfallen, vor allem, weil du mich nicht mehr hast, um dir zu helfen!” (Ha! What an idiot! Now you’re gonna fail especially since you don’t have me to help!)
“¡Cállate Prusia!” (Shut up Prussia!)