WARNING! THIS CONTAINS SCREAMING AND CURSING, AS WELL AS A LOVE/HATE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN ROMANO AND READER! Don't say that you weren't warned.
"GODDAMMIT LOVINO, WHY DO YOU NEVER FINISH YOUR HOMEWORK?!" you shout, an eyebrow raising in spite of your angry words.
"IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT MY IDIOT FRATELLO KEPT ME UP UNTIL MIDNIGHT!" Lovino shouted back, eyes narrowing into a fierce glare. His dark eyebrows looked hilariously huge when he did that, you thought to yourself, amused.
You paused. "What's wrong with Feli?" you ask.
"Ah, he just has a bad cold, the fool."
You glared him. "How bad of a cold of a cold is it?" you hissed out. It was rather well-known that you were incredibly protective of your friends. Like, scarily protective. And it was equally well-known that you were someone that you should never piss off. Now, Lovino was both pissing you off and keeping secrets about the well-being of one of your closest friends.
"N-Not that bad," Lovino sputtered out, realizing that he had a much more severe problem than missing homework on his hands.
"We're ditching today to take care of Feli," you said firmly, squaring off your shoulders and throwing your books back into your locker with such force that the metal rattled and groaned.
"But what about-" Oh wait a second. I don't fucking care, he thought. "Okay."
You smirked and grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the school. You took of running down the street, barely listening to the protests and curses coming from the unwilling Italian that you - almost literally- were dragging behind you.
TIMESKIP! AT FELI AND LOVINO'S HOUSE!
You arrived at Lovino and Feli's house mere minutes from when you left school, half because of your quickened pace, half because their home was a stone's throw from the school. You pushed Lovino out of the way after he unlocked the door and stepped inside.
"Feli?" you called out softly, stepping lightly through the foyer.
"AHHHHHHHHH! DON'T HURT ME! I HAVE RELATIVES IN AMERICA! DON'T KILL ME!" Feli screamed from somewhere in the house.
"Feliciano! Calm down!" someone snarled.
"Feli! It's only me, (f/n."
"Oh, (f/n)! I'm in the," Feliciano sniffled loudly, and you heard someone sigh and pull a tissue from a box. "Living room!"
At that moment, Lovino grabbed your arm and pulls you towards his living room, cursing at whatever he could see under his breath. You noticed leaves stuck in his hair.
Lovino paused at the doorway to the living room, spotting a certain blue-eyed German sitting on the couch next to Feliciano. His face paled rapidly, then turned a bright red. You suddenly understood why some people called him a tomato. "God-fucking-damnit, potato bastard, what the hell are you doing in my house! I didn't call you! Get the fuck out!"
"Feliciano called me. He said that you left him alone. Do you have any idea how utterly stupid that was? Who knows what he could have gotten up to on his own!" the German man shouted.
"Hi, (f/n)!" Feli said happily. "This is Ludwig!"
Ludwig looked over at you, blushing slightly. "Eh, hello, (f/n). I wish that we could have met under better circumstances."
"The fuck, (f/n)? Don't talk to him!"
"I can talk to anyone I want, douchedick!"
TIMESKIP! A FEW MINUTES LATER!
Ludwig had ended up kicked you out of the house because of how heated the argument between Lovino you was getting. Of course, he apologized to you, but not to Romano (things seemed kind of tense between the two of them for some unknown reason). So, you had begun to walk back to school very, very slowly. (Like seriously, you were probably moving at a half a mile an hour.)
Lovino muttered something too quietly for you to hear, turning his head away, a surprisingly guilty expression on his face.
"What was that?" you asked, smirking slightly and pausing in your steps."
"I said that I was sorry."
This was unexpected. Lovino never apologized to anyone. Even when he accidentally smashed your nose in and gave you a nosebleed by opening his locker door too quickly while you stood behind it, he didn't appologize. He merely called you an idiot and dragged you to the school nurse.
"Well?" he asked. A familiar scowl falling across his features. Good, anger, you thought. I can deal with that. I hate this prissy shit.
"I forgive you," you said. "And I'm sorry too."
"Why the hell are you sorry? It was my fault in the first place."
"No, it was my fault."
"No, it was my fucking fault. Shut the hell up, (f/n)."
"Son of a-!"