Pompeii Prologue (Hetalia)

The little redhead bounded into the living room. “What do you want?” his eldest brother growled, his mouth full of tomato. “Big brother, tell me about Pompeii,” Romeo hopped up on the couch next to his brother. Romano sat up, choking on his tomato. The oldest Italians face was beat red, with anger. “Who told you about her?!” he yelled. “Felciano,” the little Italian country squeaked. “Seaborg,” Romano growled using his youngest brothers country’s name. “I’m sorry!” Romeo threw his hands up in defense. Romano sighed. “How does little brother even know about her?” he muttered to himself. “Grandpa Rome told him and he told me,” Romeo said, “What’s so bad about-” “That sex loving bastard!” Romano shouted. “Romano, what’s wrong?” Feliciano walked in. His brows furrowed, “What did Grandpa do?” “That bastard told you about Pompeii,”  Romano sunk back down, his voice dropped, “No one was suppose to know,”

Feliciano frowned. “You haven’t gotten over her?” “No!” Romano flew to his feet, “How could I?” Romeo spoke up, “It’s be a long long time. Love doesn’t last forever,” With malice in his eyes, Romano glared at his youngest brother. “Some love doesn’t.” Romeo coward from Romano. “Do I have to call Ludwig?” Feliciano threatened. “Don’t call the Potato Bastard,” Romano growled. The three all stood in tense silence before Romano plopped down on the couch anger in his eyes. “I’ll tell you. As long as you never speak of this again,”

“I’ll make some pasta,” Italy sighed and went to the kitchen. Romeo crawled up on to Romano’s lap. “No,” Romano crossed his arms, “Off.” “Fine,” Romeo got off his brother, and sat on the other side of the couch. “It was a time ago,” Romano said, “You were just a newborn. It was a beautiful town. Pompeii herself was beautiful. Her human name was beautiful, when she walked bird sang, when she sang the birds grew silent,” “What was her human name?” the redhead asked. “So many questions,” Romano muttered. “Are you going to tell me or not?” Seaborg demanded. “Her name was Catrina,” Romano sighed with defeat. “So, story time?” Romeo asked, getting into Feliciano's’ lap. “I suppose so,” Romano’s golden eyes had a far away look to them, as he began his tale about the girl, Pompeii.