"Romano!" Spain called after the boy who was storming out of the house. "I bought you tomatoes!"
"Dammit!" Romano yelled to himself. "Why does he always have to be here? Doesn't he have his own damn life?"
Just minutes ago Spain had told him "Te quiero," or "I love you."
"Damn pedophile. He realizes it's pedophilia, right?"
And that's exactly what he'd said to his brother, Italy Veneziano, last night.
"It's not pedophilia!" his brother responded in the all too happy tone he always had. "We're countries, so it's different for us!"
"Easy for you to say! That potato-sucking bastard of yours is the same age as you."
"But with how we age, Spain is only about two or three years older than you. And you must love him back if you're telling me about him."
"What?! Me love him back?" Romano's face turned as red as a tomato, the only food