Romano x Reader

Title: Colors
Summary: Let them talk.
Rating: 13+
Pairing: Romano (Hetalia) / Reader
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, just the plot.

[A/N: I read shit like this in a British accent and now I'm in tears xD.]

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Red and gold tie, white-collared undershirt. His black sweater was creeping up his torso, his fingers unconsciously pulling it up before sliding it over his head and tossing it aside.

_____ watched it fall to the ground, forgotten by his seat while he loosened the neck of his tie.

He was already taking off his uniform, she thought with a fond smile tugging her lips. She'd make sure to pick it up for him later.

Romano was conversing with Antonio, a habit that often got him in trouble during their Potions class, but whatever they were talking about, the discussion was evidently getting heated. Romano was cracking his knuckles, itching to start a fight, meanwhile Antonio pulled on his tie and grinned, making haste to unbutton his undershirt next.

The red and gold tie clashed with the black sweater below.

Red and gold… such bold colors. Bright, vibrant, happy, like the sun. Not at all like emerald and silver—dull, boring, dark; cloudy, like the days that used to follow her when she first joined Hogwarts.

She remembered the first time seeing him, all scowls and messy bronze hair. She would never forget the way his eyes connected with hers for a brief moment before he took his seat beneath the Sorting Hat, and after a short monologue about his bravery and loyalty to his friends, the Hat bellowed the all important sorting: "Gryffindor!"

When it was _____'s turn, she took her seat, hands balled into tense fists in her lap with her posture perfectly straight. The Sorting Hat said some words, but her thoughts were preoccupied with longing to join the house with the cheerful brunette, rambunctious white-haired boy, beautiful blonde witch and the auburn-haired wizard that took her breath away.

But then it bellowed it's decision, and her heart sank.

"Slytherin!"

Emerald and silver. The direct rival to the mighty, honorable Gryffindor.

Presently, _____ sighed, lowering her gaze and tugging on the hem of her skirt. She'd only just caught movement from the corner of her eye before she noticed all the students gathering their books, signaling their class had ended. Her eyes sifted through the crowd of faces before finding Romano with a scowl, sliding off his seat and growling something to Francis. She looked to his discarded sweater and tie lying on the floor—he was going to forget his clothes and get censured, as usual.

Gathering her bag, _____ shuffled from her seat, bending over and retrieving the abandoned clothes before folding them neatly over her arms.

"Mister Vargas!" she called, but then she flinched when more than just his eyes turned to look at her. Some were so stern, serious and condescending, while others were puzzled or furrowing a brow. She didn't need to read their minds to know what they were thinking—what was a lowly Slytherin doing talking to one of the bravest wizards in the school?

Lost in her warring thoughts, she missed the way Gilbert snickered something to Francis before Antonio punched him in the arm and Romano walked over to her.

"Yeah? What is it?" he answered, lifting a brow when her wide, doe-like eyes lifted to his.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, ducking her head and bringing her feet together. "I didn't mean to address you so directly—"

"What are you talking about?"

She met his gaze, nervously biting her lower lip while he casually stood with his hands in his pockets. Did he really not notice? All the stares they constantly received just by standing together, all the whispers of disapproval, the rumors that he must be taking pity on her or she must have cast him under some curse to get him to talk to her?

They weren't meant to be friends, let alone something more. The Sorting Hat proved it. But she couldn't help that his kindness warmed her chest, or that his bravery and loyalty made her heart race. She couldn't help falling more in love with him as the years passed, first from observing from afar, then finally becoming part of his inner circle.

"Um…" _____ began, glancing down to the sweater and tie draped over her arms. "I-I just called you… because…"

"My clothes?! When did I—" He patted around his chest, sighing in relief upon finding his undershirt was still on. "Thanks," he said, sliding his sweater over his head and hanging his tie loosely around his neck. "If I got one more detention for breaking uniform, I'd be suspended, and the house would get docked points. That potato bastard would be on my ass for months."

"I don't think you'd would be suspended," she replied, reaching up and gathering both ends of his tie before she recognized what she was doing. Her hands froze, a deep blush veiling her cheeks at her audacity, but Romano said nothing, instead watching her expectantly as her trembling hands continued fixing his tie. "I-I think… with your bravery… saving the school last year from the Death Eaters, with Mister Beilschmitd and the others… that maybe you would be pardoned." She pulled the loop through the knot, tightening the tie to his collarbone before withdrawing her shaky fingers to her chest, clasping them together.

"Maybe," Romano muttered, tucking the tie beneath his sweater before patting it down. "I'd still get an earful from my old man though. Not that they aren't gonna yell at me already about my grades—did you fail the potions test too?"

"A-Actually, I passed," she mumbled, fumbling with her hair as he slipped his bag over his shoulder.

"What?! But I thought—"

"It was designed for everyone and their partner to pass, because apparently no one 'didn't want to see our sorry faces next year'."

"That tomato bastard! He sabotaged me!" Romano cursed, passing a hand through his hair. "That's it, next time I'm just partnering up with you. So much for all those tutoring sessions—"

_____ flinched, her heart skipping a beat as her gaze whipped to his. Partners? With her? Where they'd be seen… together? In front of prying eyes?

"U-Um… m-maybe you shouldn't—"

"By the way, you gonna eat dinner with us again? 'Cause Gilbert's been binge-drinking—well, more than usual—'cause of the holidays, so I'd steer clear from him—"

"I can't," the girl blurted, halting her next step while Romano stopped with her.

"Huh? Why not?"

She glanced to her left. "Because… I promised to dine with Ivan, so—"

"Just bring him along," Romano shrugged despite the chill that shot through his spine. That guy scared him to death. "You've done it before."

"No!—I-I mean, I shouldn't, it's not—I'm not—"

She staggered backwards, spinning on her heel to flee before she felt a tight grip on her wrist.

"What are you talking about?" Romano asked, narrowing his eyes when she tried to tug her wrist out of his grasp. "Bella, why aren't you looking at me? What's going on?"

The girl winced, glancing around herself as bystanders cast gazes towards them. "Please, let me go—"

"You've been acting strange all week. What's the deal? Did something happen?"

"Romano," she whispered, raising imploring eyes to his. "Please—"

"What happened?" he pressed, tightening his hold on her. "What's changed? Huh?"

_____ lowered her gaze, letting her arm fall slack between them. "…Haven't you noticed?"

"What?" he retorted. "Noticed what?"

She shifted her feet, idly pulling on the hem of her skirt. "Th-The… stares, and the whispers, and all the…" Her eyes glanced sadly to his tie. "You're is from Gryffindor, and I'm from Slytherin now. You shouldn't associate yourself with—"

"That's what this is all about?" he countered, brows furrowing in a scowl. "What, you think I'm gonna let some colors dictate who I can or can't be friends with?"

"'All bad wizards are from Slytherin'," _____ recited, lips tugged in a heavy frown, "and Gryffindor and Slytherin loathe one another. It's principle—"

"That's bullshit," Romano snapped. "Anyone who hates people 'cause of their houses are living in the past. Just because the founders hated each other doesn't mean that's the way it has to be. There's only who we are now, and you're too smart to be in a house with Feliciano anyway. Besides, Water is your House's element, and that's what your best magic is, so I think the Sorting Hat picked right."

"Gryffindor is fire," _____ mumbled. "We're opposites."

"Yeah, but I hate the heat. Maybe the Hat chose wrong for me—who knows, maybe I was supposed to be in Slytherin too."

"No," the girl replied, shaking her head. "You're too kind…" She placed a timid hand on his chest, just above his heart. "You may not like the heat… but you're very warm-hearted."

He stared at her, silently studying her face as her lashes rose to his. "You're worried about people talking about us?" he murmured, watching her cheeks bloom in color. She looked between both his eyes, flushing dark when he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. "Then let's give them something to talk about."

His mouth was on hers before she could react, capturing her lips in a firm, searing kiss. Her lashes fluttered closed as he drew her closer, resting his hands on the curve of her back while hers slid up his chest to his shoulders. She gripped them tight when he slanted his mouth, bringing a hand to her jaw and angling her lips against his before he pulled back. She stared at him with wide eyes, cheeks flushed and heart racing as it thumped wildly in her chest.

"Eeep!"

The two glanced to the side, finding a flash of yellow and brown duck behind the corner before Antonio's cackles echoed down the hallway. Popping his head out, the boy beamed a wide, mischievous grin.

"Ha! I win!" Smack! "Ow!"

"Don't say it like that!" came a shrill voice.

"Oi!" Romano scowled, releasing _____ and turning towards the two eavesdroppers. "How long were you standing there?!"

_____ placed her hands on his shoulders and peeked over, feeling her heart flutter upon finding the tips of his ears burning pink.

Antonio only chortled in response. "It took you long enough, Roma!"

"Idiot! That's not what you say!" Francis chided, falling into place beside Antonio. "You say Congratulations, because we just won one-hundred gold from Matthias, Alfred, Feliciano, Elizaveta, Kiku, and that eyebrows bastard! Now I can buy those pricey chocolates I've been eyeing—"

"What?! There was bets on this?!"

"What? No! I mean—maybe just a few—"

"Whad'ya mean, amigo? It was almost everyone in the whole House—"

"Antonio! Don't be upset mon ami, it's just, with all those tutoring sessions—"

"Nothing happened!"

"I believe you! But then you came back with a perfectly knit Gryffindor scarf—"

"You kept my scarf?"

"You bastard—!"

"—and wouldn't stop staring at it, and now look! …Congratulations!"

The blonde smiled nervously, innocent sparkles twinkling about him while Romano's brow twitched.

"…Hey," Antonio murmured, leaning towards Francis with a wicked smile and a not so low whisper, "what about the other bet, about when Romano's gonna bang—"

"That's it! You're both dead!"

Antonio screamed as Francis stepped forward. "But hey, it's a question that must be ans—ack!"

"Run, estupido!"

Antonio jerked on Francis' scarf as he rounded the hallway corner, dragging the blonde wizard behind him. Romano tore right behind them, handing _____ his bag and clothes before dashing after them.

The girl simply blinked at the dust billowing in the hallway, glancing down to the bundle in her arms. Spotting his unlatched bag, she moved to close it before catching a glimpse of red and gold. She reached inside, digging the article out only to find the scarf she'd gifted him bundled at the bottom of his bag.

Her eyes widened, heart skipping a beat. She thought he'd rejected it, choosing to leave it behind after one of their numerous tutoring sessions. She'd forgotten it too, lost in the thoughts of what his rejection meant, but when she had returned to retrieve it, it was gone.

He'd… had it this whole time? And kept it with him everywhere he went, in his school bag?

She heard a mix of voices returning down the hall before looking up, finding Antonio, Francis and Romano running back towards her.

"Run!" Antonio yelled to _____, his musical laughter following after as Francis pulled him by the arm.

"Wha-What?" _____ asked, tilting her head before she felt a familiar grip on her hand.

"It's those potato jerks!" Romano shouted, hauling her body into a sprint while he continued dashing forward. "Gilbert you traitor!" Francis called laughing and now running backwards, flipping the albino the finger. Gilbert shrugs, and grabs ahold of Ludwig's wrist and hauling him forward letting him gain more speed.

"No running in the halls!" Ludwig's voice boomed, making the three Gryffindor wizards pale before running faster. "_____! You are no exception!" Gilbert had added trailing close behind the four at inhuman speed.

_____ squeaked, trailing close behind Romano. No exception—the words rang continuously in her head as her gaze fell to the scarf bundled in her arms, then the hand that gripped tightly in hers.

Red and gold, emerald and silver. Maybe they were just colors after all.