WARNING: THERE IS ROMANO. THAT IS A SYNONYM FOR BAD WORDS. THAT IS A SYNONYM FOR CURSING. THANK YOU.
"Hey Romano~! Look at the cute little niños! I just want to take them all home and-"
You looked up from the book you were reading to a pair of men reclining by the fence. Both attractive and tanned, with flecks of sunlight bouncing off their dark hair.
"Look, look! I think a niña saw us. You see, that cute (h/c) one with the book under the tree! Don't you-"
"Alright, I see her! What I would-a tell you if we weren't near a bunch of bambini-"
"Hey, you." You stood up and walked to the side of the fence facing towards them.
They both looked stunned, probably thinking that a random kid wouldn't come up and confront them.
"You do realize I could hear you talking about me, right?" You looked at the Spanish one with feigned amusement.
"Oh, si. Of course I could." He grinned and ruffled your hair playfully.
You looked up at his hand, still on your head, then calmly took it off and shoved it over the fence, walking away slowly.
"What did I do?" He started to panic and climbed over the fence. "Don't run away, nina!"
"Why should I not run away?" You answered, backing away toward your book.
"Espana! You bastardo! What the hell are you-a doing?" The obviously more Italian one groaned and climbed over the fence, trying to grab him.
The Spanish one suddenly stopped, looked around, and stared at you.
By now you were armed and ready with your book, ready to smack him on the head in case he tried something.
"Why are there children behind this fence?"
You, not being able to take all of this craziness anymore, sighed and set your book down, knowing this guy was obviously not a threat.
The Italian grabbed the Spaniard by the arm and dragged him away from you.
"By the way, it's called an orphanage." You called out as they made their way toward the fence.
"OH, THAT'S WHY!" The Spaniard yelled just before he face-planted after being rolled over the fence by the Italian.
"Sorry, ragazza. The tomato bastard just-a has problems." The Italian looked over at him, still on the ground, now occupied by a butterfly that reminded him of a tomato.
"It's ok." You said, grinning at the Spaniard's dazy-ness.
"Hey, what's your name? Mine's Antonio!" Antonio looked up from his butterfly and grinned.
"(F/N). What's yours?" You asked, motioned toward the Italian.
"Oh... Uh... My name's Romano." Romano scratched his neck and kicked at the Spaniard softly.
"Come on, we're-a going to be late, bastard." His face had turned a bit red from the sun, or from embarassment, or something...
"Oh Romano~! Your face is starting to look like a tomato, eh!" Antonio chuckled and stood up, brushing the grass off his trousers.
"Oh, shut up!" His face started to turn a deeper and deeper red. "We kinda need to go now... but whatever! I guess I'll just fucking blame it on-a you."
Antonio's eyes glanced at you, to see if you were horrified of Romano's language.
"What?" You giggled.
Apparently they didn't know how things worked in these 'modern times'. That the older kids teach the younger kids about the things that parents don't want them to know. But, in your case, and the cases of the others around you, the headmistress was the only person you needed to worry about. And she was nice to you because you were quiet... at least for most of the time.
With a look of not caring (from Romano), and one of concern (from Antonio), they both became quite aware of the time when Antonio's iPhone beeped.
"OK, Romano! I don't want to make Ger-Ludwig angry again! Wait-" He looked at his screen. "He already is!"
You could almost hear a faint 'potato bastard' coming from Romano's direction, but you decided not to question it.
"Oh shit!" Romano's started side pocket started buzzing crazily. "Feli! I'm gonna get-a you!" He started screaming into the phone, attracting people passing by, and some annoyed looks from the kids playing on the playground far away from the fence. No one really payed attention to you and the nice shady tree you sat under.
"Bye, (Name)! We don't want people to be angry at us! We'll come visit you again soon, though!" The Spaniard's voice faded away down the road as Romano dragged him away, toward a meeting of some sort.
"I sure hope you do..." You sighed, not believing what had just happened. You had just become better friends with some random men in ten minutes than any other people you had ever met at the orphanage.
"I sure hope you visit me again..." You leaned back against the truck of your tree and sank back into your book.