"So you were on the plane with that potato bastard?"
"Shh, Romano! Don't call him that!"
You were still at the airport now with Romano, after you napped on Ludwig's shoulder for a little bit. Prussia was at McDonald's, and he had sent you a text to meet up with him thereexcept you found a fantastic gelato place where Romano was hanging around at with a cappuccino nut gelato, you decided to get some chocolate gelato too but of course, ended up hanging out with Romano as well.
"Let's go to McDonald's, remember Gilbert? He wants us to meet him there."
"Meet us?" Romano scoffed, folding his arms. "More like meet youbella, let's just ditch that creepy potato bastard's little brother and I'll take you to someplace nice where we can have a nice plate of pasta, no?" He grabbed your arm not quite so gently and began to drag you away.
"Wait, no! I wanted coffee too!" You had to make up the excuse on the spot, no matter how bad McCafe's coffee was. After all, you couldn't just leave Gilbert hanging, right? He'd be offended and when you did happen to see him again on your next flight, he would be extremely pissed.
Romano grumbled, "Fine." You gave him the nicest smile you could manage, and then left for McDonald's.
"[Name], the Awesome Me was awesome enough that he got you frieswho's this?" Gilbert stopped dead in his tracks with a full tray as he saw Romano sulking behind you.
"Remember Romano, Gil? This is him!"
"Oh, Italy's bro. I see," Gilbert said, looking Romano up and down. You shrugged and then snatched up a fry in your fingers, then tossed it into your mouth.
Gilbert and Romano moved for the same seat, across from youthey glared at each other, and you knew it wasn't going to turn out well.
"Why are they named French fries if they're obviously American trash? France is so weird and America's so stupid, I don't understand! What about you, bella?" Romano was complaining again, eating his fries while he complained about them. Typical. You ignored him and continued to take a sip of your mocha.
"Well, they should've been named Prussian fries because they taste so good and thus they are awesome!" Prussia responded, sneering at Romano.
"I don't believe you taste that good," you scoffed, wanting this argument to end already. You rolled your eyes and put your head down on the table, tired again.
"Wanna have a taste of me, then? I probably taste better than little not-awesome tomato number two," Prussia whispered into your ear.
"Hey! I'm a delicious tomato number two, trust me, bella!"
"SHUT UP, YOU GUYS!"