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I sighed, knowing that since I was in this predicament I would just have to make the best of it. After a moment of thought, I sighed again and recited my chosen number.

“I pick. . .four.”

A sweet, high-pitched cheer was let out by someone in the group, and I smiled when I recognized the voice. I turned around to see my adorable Italian friend hop out of the group toward me. He took both my hands in his and beamed at me. “This is great! I get to go on a date with sorella!”

We both blinked after he said that. He chuckled. “Well, you can’t be sorella if I go on a date with you.”

I giggled. “Then what will I be?”

He smiled. “You’ll be bella tonight.”

I felt my face heat up slightly, but I returned his smile and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Well then!” said Gilbert, grabbing my and Feliciano’s shoulders. “Off to your date now!” He pushed us both out of the room, toward the front foyer, and out the front door.

Feliciano and I stood on the porch for a few moments, shuffling our feet. “So,” I said, “where are we going?”

“Eh?” He looked up at me. “Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t think of that.”

I giggled. “Well where do you want to go?”

He put his index finger on his chin in thought, then snapped his fingers together and said, “I know!” He took my hand and ran off the porch, practically dragging me the whole way.

==========

“This is, uh, a really nice place you picked out, Feli,” I said half-heartedly as we walked through the door of the pizzeria. Frankly, the place didn’t exactly look like it was in tip-top shape. Not only was it not very clean, but a lot of the other guys were giving us dirty looks. There was a bar counter where they were loitering, and most of them just stood while leaning on the counter for support. A few of them were looking at me, but most were glaring at Feliciano.

“Where do want to sit, bella?” he asked.

I scanned the seating area, realizing that we and the creeps at the bar were the only ones in the restaurant. I gulped mentally. “Uh, it doesn’t matter. Wherever you want.”

He smiled. “Okay!” He skipped over to a table by the wall and pulled a chair out for me, which I took, and then sat down across from me. He grabbed the small menu from the end of the table and looked over it quickly, then asked, “What kind of pizza would you like, bella?”

“Uh, just cheese is fine with me,” I replied, scanning the bar for anyone who could have been a threat.

We soon ordered food, and our requested drinks were served to us. As we waited for the meal, I couldn’t help but fidget nervously when I noticed a few of the guys at the bar looking and pointing at me. I lowered my head to look down at the table.

“Bella? Are you okay?”

I brought my head up to look at Feliciano. “Huh? Y-Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just. . .” I leaned in closer to him. “Those bozos at the bar are giving me the eye.”

“Eh?” Feliciano then turned his head and looked at the men shamelessly, which is something you never do if you want to live. “Do you want me to talk to them?” he said, turning back to me.

I giggled at his suggestion. “No, sweetie. I can ignore them.” I looked down and let out a very quiet, “For now.”

Our food came, and we admittedly ate like kings. The fat, happy kind. I’m not gonna lie; that pizza was pretty dang good. It may have had only cheese on it, but hey, that was all this pizza needed.

I was now on my third slice and Feliciano on his fourth, and suddenly a loud bang emanated from our table. I dropped my slice, which luckily fell back onto my plate, and looked up to see one of the men from the bar looming over us. It was quite obvious from this angle that he more than just a little bit tipsy.

“Hey, baby,” he slurred, gracelessly leaning down and taking my hand. “How ‘bouts you c’mon home with me t’night?”

I rolled my eyes and snatched my hand away. “No thanks,” I sneered.

“S’that so?” He made a gesture that I didn’t catch, but what followed made the pizza in my stomach threaten to come back up.

The group of guys that were at the bar––about six, including the loser trying to hit on me––circled our table. They looked like they wanted trouble. They made faces at me which made me want to puke, and then they glared daggers at Feliciano. He began to shake and I could see him shrink into his seat.

Oh, yeah. They wanted trouble, alright.

I decided to make the first move. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but if you don’t mind, I’d like it if you just––”

I was cut off by their laughter. Their drunken, obnoxious, disgusting laughter. They just dismissed me and went right to Feliciano, who was scared crapless now. He shrunk even more into his seat and, on the verge of tears, screamed out, “Sorella!”

My maternal instincts kicked in. I jumped from my seat and launched myself toward the men. I was able to squeeze myself through their beefy bodies and stand firmly in front of Feliciano. “If you want him,”––I pushed him fully behind me––“you’re gonna have to go through me.”

The men blinked, then laughed again. One of them reached out his hand to pull me away, but I grabbed his arm and twisted it back with all my strength. I heard a pop and let go, and he backed away holding his arm, letting out a few pained moans. Two more came at me, and I somehow managed to dodge their attacks and land a hard blow to the sides of each of their heads. They stumbled away, and I still stood in front of my cowering Italian date.

Boy, was this ironic.

After helping their three injured lackeys, the others gave up and went back to the bar. I turned back to Feliciano, and my eyes softened when I looked at him. He was terrified, but his eyes showed a look of admiration. His cheeks were stained from tears, but they had regained their color.

I leaned down and gently laid my hands on his shoulders. “Feli, are you okay?”

He snapped his eyes up at me, still wearing shock on his face. Slowly, he nodded. “S-Sì. . .”

I took his hand and helped him to his feet. “Let’s blow this joint.”

“O-Okay. . .Wait, what about the bill?”

“I got it.” I quickly dug through my wallet, pulled out a twenty, and placed it on the table. “They can keep the change. Let’s just go.”

We made our way out of the pizzeria and down the sidewalk, all the while hand-in-hand. We had been walking for about ten minutes when Feliciano suddenly said, “Bella?”

“Yeah?”

He stopped, causing me to stop as well. He stepped closer to me and nuzzled my neck. “Thank you,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on my cheek.

I smiled and returned the gesture. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”
Intro: [link]
One: [link]
Two: [link]
Three: [link]
Four: :star:
Five: [link]
Six: [link]
Seven: [link]
Eight: [link]
Nine: [link]
Ten: [link]

Story © Me
Picture © Not Me
Hetalia © :iconhimaruyaplz:
You © :iconsexyitalyplz:
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