Romano x Reader
Ti Amo means I Love You
"Romano!" you yelled, barreling through the busy, tourist-filled streets of Naples right behind your friend. "Ti amo!" you sang, throwing yourself onto him in a hug.
He almost had a heart attack.
You squished him in your arms, crying, "Ti amo!" brightly once again before letting the Italian go and smiling up at him.
He stared back with a mix of emotions you couldn't gauge completely clear on his face. He still half-looked like he was dying from surprise, but his face was growing redder by the second, his brows were furrowed, and his scowl was deeper than normal.
So, you braced yourself, and flinched as he started to yell at you. Which you droned out.
It was boring, and always the same thing over and over. Although you were a little disappointed with his reaction.
You were always doing things wrong in his eyes, even though you thought he shouldn't have been one to talk. Once, for fun, when he was yelling at you, you pretended to cry and sobbed, "All I do is wrong!" to see what he would do. To reply, he stopped yelling, stared at you for a moment, and said, "Yes. Everything," before walking away. Wonderful, right?
Staring at him blankly—you were terribly used to said outbursts from him—as he slipped into Italian, you nonchalantly reached up and pulled a little on the strange curl of his.
The best way you knew how to shut him up remained the simplest and easiest as you watched with very little interest, humming slightly to yourself.
He instantly stopped ranting, and his face went red as he shuddered. You dropped your arm back to your side, idly wondering in the back of your mind exactly what the inner workings behind this phenomena were while you allowed him time to recuperate.
Calming down a little, with his face still bright red and crybaby tears forming in his eyes, he took a deep breath and yelled, "What the hell was that?"
You flinched again. Giggling slowly and uncertainly, you rocked back on your feet.
"Tell. Me," he threatened, glowering at you. It was already a threat without any, "or I'll...". How such a weak crybaby could do that you had no idea. You just knew he wasn't afraid to headbutt anyone.
"Well," you said, "ti amo, Roma."
He twitched a little and both his blush and frown deepened. "Stupid Ragazza, do you even know what that means?"
You brightened at this, and, gasping a little, clapped your hands once, trying to play up your innocence. "I do!" you sang. "It means, 'I love you'. Right? I googled it!"
Romano seemed to relax a little, although he looked like he couldn't facepalm enough to suffice. "I-It does, idiota, but not in the way you want it to."
"Oh?" you said, your heart sinking.
"Say 'ti voglio bene' instead, stupid Ragazza."
"Just say it!" he snapped.
"Then what does 'ti amo' mean? Doesn't it mean 'I love you'?" you persisted.
"It does mean 'I love you'," he repeated, "but!" He huffed and as his cheeks grew red he turned to the side, not able to look you in the face. "It's more of a get-in-your-pants kind of way, bastard," he concluded, and with his bright red face started walking off.
You blushed yourself, horribly embarrassed at his phrasing, the sensation burning your cheeks a fiery red. You honestly really hadn't meant it in the way he so kindly put it. You sighed and thought it over for a quick second, hurrying after him.
So, ti amo is the way to express the romantic feelings, not the platonic ones...
But did you really mean it in the romantic way?
Sure, you knew him for a while and you were close friends, and so you may have even went for a trip with him to Naples, or, where you were now. Maybe when he asked, you may have gotten a little excited and the butterflies in your stomach got a little too anxious. Maybe they got like that all the time when you saw him.
He was definitely not bad looking, that was for sure. You'd say he was rather cute, and you loved the colour of his deep hazel eyes. He wasn't kind one-hundred percent of the time, but he wasn't mean and knew how to treat you with respect.
Wasn't the main reason you found him was because he started flirting with you?
Except for the fact you turned him, a then-total stranger, down.
But that didn't mean you couldn't hold feelings for him now, right?
So, maybe, did you mean it in a romantic way? Had you grown romantic feelings for the Italian man?
Your cheeks kept blazing at the thought, but as you scurried along behind him through the throngs of tourists, you couldn't help but feel glad he was with you. You reached for his large hand, making him start a bit, and held tightly to it, finally letting your mind calm down. You could still feel your face tingling, but you held tightly to his hand as he guided you through the streets of his home country.
Soon you were away from all the tourist attractions in a nice, calm area. The buildings were beautiful and the few people still wandering around in the midday sun were dressed nicely as they hurried on their way. It smelled good, too, like fine wine a pasta, almost like the rest of Italy, but sweet scents of herbs and flowers lingered too.
With most of the chatter and people gone, suddenly you felt rather vulnerable. The butterflies started flurrying around in your stomach, and you took a shy look up at the Italian man.
He didn't seem to notice, his other hand stuffed in his pocket as he sauntered down the street with you to who knows where.
As the butterflies wouldn't stop, you swallowed and squeezed his hand tightly.
"Romano!" you announced, stopping in place, causing him to jerk back as he kept walking.
He moodily turned to face you, a set expression of determination on your face.
His face lit up in rogue again and he stuttered to tell you once again, not to say those words.
"No," you interrupted. "I mean 'ti amo'." You started at him, trying to remain serious so the message would get across.
Somehow his face got redder, but he seemed to calm. "Ragazza," he said uncertainly. "Do you...?"
You nodded sharply, reaching for his other hand and giving them both another squeeze. You had made up your mind. You did mean it.
His hands tightened around yours. "Really?" he asked, still uncertain.
"Yes." You nodded again, now allowing yourself to smile kindly. "Oh!"
You gasped as you were scooped up into a hug, and with one longing look, his lips brushed against yours. Pulling away, you kept from gasping again, but couldn't hide the smile as it lit up your face.
"Don't you have something to say to me?" you teased.
He kissed you again and set you down, grabbing both your hands again before smiling a little himself. "Ti amo anch'io, bella."