RomanoXReader- A Winter Canvas

        "Fresh fish here! Straight from the docks and the sea!"
        "Satisfy your sweet tooth with all-natural sugars found in my delicious fruits!"
        "I got cucumbers, potatoes, and lettuce freshly harvested this morning!"
        With each step, I feel like I'm further dwelling into the madness of the marketplace. Each stand insists they have the freshest, tastiest produce in all of Italy. I highly doubt their claims, considering they don't have their gardens directly behind their stands.
        "Hey-a Lovino! Look-a at all-a the tasty food everywhere! Veh~" chirps my brother, Feliciano cheerfully.
        "I don't-a know how tasty-a something can be after being-a man-handled by all-a these people," I grumble, not sharing my brother's enthusiasm.
        Turning to cast a glance at my fratello, I discover he hadn't been listening to me and has wondered over to a nearby tomato stand. Sighing, I drift over to where he is and watch as he marvels over each smooth, red orb.
        "Are-a you going to buy one or not-a?" I demand, not wanting to waste my time staring at tomatoes, when I could be tending the ones I have growing at home.
        "I can't-a choose, Lovino! They all-a look so tasty!" protests Feliciano, as he frets over trying to find the perfect tomato.
        "Just-a pick one!" I snap, growing impatient.
        After several agonizingly-long minutes, we finally can move on to the rest of our grocery shopping. Of course, my brother insists on dragging me over to every single stand and the sun is already starting to set, when we finally begin heading home.
        With fork in hand, I twirl and wind the noodles in preparation to take a bite.
        "Why did-a we have to buy so much-a food anyway, Feliciano?" I ask, wondering why we have suddenly an abundance of pasta, fruit, and vegetables to last us half-a-year.
        "Veh~ I guess I-a forgot to tell you, Lovino. _______ is-a coming over later this-a fall for a visit!" answers Feliciano as he sits down to enjoy his own plate of home-made pasta.
        Almost chocking on my mouthful of noodles, I manage to blurt out, "Who?!"
        "_______! She's a good friend of-a mine," explains Feliciano, that innocent, cheery grin never leaving his face.
        "I didn't know-a you had-a friends besides that-a potato-sucker and….what's-a his name?....Kiku," I retort.
        "No, I have-a more friends like-a _______," argues Feliciano joyfully.
        "Great, and-a I assume she'll be-a staying with us?" I inquire, annoyed.
        "Yep! And I-a can't wait-a for you to meet her, Lovino! She's such a pretty bella and-a she paints such-a beautiful pictures!" answers Feliciano, with barely-contained excitement.
        This idea of some girl coming into our home didn't please me in the slightest. Mainly, it is because I know she will just coo over my fratello since he is the better-looking one and because they are both great artists. I don't want some girl in my home if she's just going to ignore me….why does it feel like someone else can relate to that?

        Anyway, it was late November and I can't understand why my idiota fratello is making us stand outside in the cold waiting for this ragazza.
        "She'll be-a here any minute! ~Veh," chirps Feliciano with his grass-green coat on.
        As I wonder why ______ was coming in such chilly weather, I ask my fratello about it and he answers about how it was cheaper to book a plane to Italy in the late fall and Winter.
        Snowflakes move and sway in a courting dance with each other as they fall gently to the ground. My nose twitches, when a lone snowflake decides to land on it.
        The distant hum of an engine catches my attention and I turn to watch as a black BMW X6 xdrive50i* drives up. Parking in front of our house, the window rolls down and silver hair and wine-red eyes appear.
        "Ve're here to drop of ze very avesome delivery. Nov, if you vould just sign here, stating I can claim your vital regions…"Before he can finish, a hand smacks him on the back of the head.
        Doors open and a familiar tall, blonde emerges from the driver's seat while an unrecognizable young woman climbs out of the back seat.
        "Let me help you get your zings," offers the blonde that earns my glare every time he's around.
        "Oh, why thank you Ludwig." With the cold bringing out a light shade of red in her cheeks, the young woman looks from Feliciano to me with (e/c) eyes.
        Not wanting to be out done by the potato-sucker, I rush over to help unload the bags of luggage from the trunk.
        "_______! I'm-a so happy to see you!" chirps Feliciano as he runs over to embrace the lady in a friendly hug.
        "It's been awhile, Feliciano. I'm so glad to finally be here."
        As I carry stuff from the trunk to our house, I come across some wooden contraption in the back seat.
        "What is-a this?" I wonder out loud only to be startled as a voice answers from behind me.
        "That's my art easel. I was hoping to paint some lovely winter scenes of Italy while I was here." Spinning around with the easel in hand, I come face-to-face with _______.
        Being so close, I can see every smooth detail of her face and can't help but admit Feliciano was right: she was beautiful. Feeling heat rush to my cheeks as I realize what I just thought, I hope she doesn't notice.
        "Are you okay? You look like you're starting to come down with a fever," she asks, concern flashing across her (e/c) gaze.
        Reaching up, she rests the back of her hand on my forehead as if checking my temperature. Quickly, I take a few steps away while trying to hide the fact my cheeks are turning darker by the second.
        "No, I'm-a fine!" I blurt out as I rush back to the house with the easel.
        My heart is beating faster than it should and I can't figure out why. Stomping my feet to shake off excess snow, I step away from the entrance mat to set down the easel in the guest bedroom.
        "Is this going to be my room?" I practically jump, when _______ pops up beside me.
        "S-stupid ragazza! Stop-a sneaking up on-a me!" I snap at her.
        Looking a bit hurt, she looks up at me apologetically.
        "Sorry….I forgot to ask, but are you Feliciano's brother? You do look a lot like him," she points out.
        Nodding, I wait for her to say he's cuter, more handsome, and nicer than me, so it surprises me when she doesn't.
        "He told me a lot about you, Lovino, yet there's no comparing to meeting you in person. To be honest, you're so much cuter than what Feliciano describes," admits ______, gazing at me somewhat embarrassed.
        I have to ask her to repeat herself to make sure I wasn't hearing things. For once, someone is saying I am more appealing than my brother. My amber-brown gaze softens, but soon sharpens again, when I hear an irritating Prussian down the hall.
        "I hope you're serving up some vurst tonight because you have ze avesome one dining viz you."
        Leaving ______ to unpack and settle into her new room, I walk down the hall to the family room.
        "Why-a the h*** is-a he still here?!" I demand as my fratello wonders in from the kitchen in a pink-checkered, frilly apron.
        "I invited him and-a Ludwig to-a dinner to thank them for-a picking up ______ at-a the airport," answers Feli, innocence plastered on his face.
        Preparing to curse at my idiota brother for inviting the beer-loving Germans, I stop as I stare at his apron.
        "Why-a the h*** is that-a pink?! No one takes us-a serious enough as it is!"
        Grumbling, I drift into the kitchen with my fratello tagging along.
        Wondering over to some cabinets, Feliciano begins pulling out some pots and pans.
        "H-hey Feliciano?"
        "Yes, Lovino? Veh~"
        "Could-a you leave the cooking to-a me?"
        "Sure Lovino! Why-a do you want-a to cook tonight?"
        Shuffling my feet nervously, it takes me a few moments to meet my brother's gaze. Without truly knowing why, I want to try to impress ______ with one of the few things I did well: cooking. Even if it meant cooking for those potato-sucking b*****ds in the other room…
        "No reason! I-a just want to-a give you a break for-a once, Feliciano," I answer.
        My lie doesn't fool Feli for even a second and a wide, knowing grin spreads across his face as he rushes over to hug me.
        "I knew-a you would like her, Lovino!" points out Feliciano, excitedly.
        "Idiota! Get off me!" I snap at him and while Feli ensnares me in his arms, I turn to see _____ standing in the archway.
        I freeze and feeling my body stiffen, Feli goes to investigate only to smile when he sees ______.
        "Hi-a bella!" He releases me to wave.
        Desperately, I hope she didn't overhear Feli's outburst from the moment before.
        "Since you two were kind enough to offer me a place to stay, I thought the least I could do was help out. Can I help you make dinner?" asks ______, her silky (h/c) locks resting lazily on her shoulders.
        I want to protest, but Feliciano interrupts me.
        "My fratello is-a making dinner tonight and-a he would love-a your help!"
        Giving me an encouraging wink, Feliciano swiftly leaves the kitchen leaving me alone with _______.
        "Great! Just tell me what to do, Lovino," she replies, gazing up at me expectantly.
        Already, I can feel my cheeks start to heat up again. Being too nervous to strike up a conversation, I just blurt out simple instructions like setting a pot of water on the stove to boil.
        Without protest, ______ follows my instructions and before I know it, the kitchen is alive with the heavenly aromas of spices and sauces. I pause to take the time to inhale deeply, smelling hints of garlic, beef, and parsley.
        "Wow, it all smells so good," points out ______, her eyes closed as she sniffs the air.
        "Of course, it's our family's special sauce recipe. Nothing smells or tastes better in all of Italy!" I explain proudly.
        Retrieving some fresh tomatoes from the fridge, I set the plump, red orbs down on a cutting board. ______, grabs some green onions from the fridge to help make the second batch of sweet, savory pasta sauce. I reach for the same knife as ______ and our hands touch.
        Startled, I look up only to meet the (e/c) eyes of ______. My cheeks feel like they're on fire and I sense my face turning the same shade as the tomatoes I am about to cut. Relief calms me slightly as I see her cheeks turn a shade of pink before my eyes.
        However, to avoid blurting out anything I may regret, I snatch up the knife and speedily slice the tomatoes. She stops me half-way through to steal a slice of tomato and then proceeds to take a bite, the watery-sweet juices dripping down the side of her mouth.
        "Sorry, tomatoes are my favorite," she admits, trying to lick away the tomato juice.
        Not taking the time to think it through, I cup her chin and lean in, licking away the stray juice on her chin. Without speaking, I pull away and return to chopping the tomatoes into a fine paste. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see ______'s face darkening into a deep blush.

        Conversation bounces around the table, yet I always hit it back before it can pull me in.
        "You're awfully quiet, Lovino. Something wrong?" asks ______, her (e/c) eyes trained on me.
        I shake my head and busy myself with devouring my plate of pasta. Knowing if I look at her, I'll only blush madly, I try to avoid her gaze since I'm not ready to show her what I'm feeling.
        "Ze dinner is exceptionally good tonight, Feli," points out Ludwig as he fills his fork.
        "Actually, my-a fratello made dinner tonight!" chirps Feliciano, sending a cheerful glance my way.
        A smug grin creeps onto my face as Ludwig almost chokes on the mouthful he just ate. He turns to stare at me, speechless, and I raise an eyebrow, silently daring him to compliment my cooking to my face. As I expect, he doesn't and turns away to quietly finish his meal.
        "Oh relax you over-sized idiota, _____ here-a helped me," I admit, sending a swift glance her way to see her beaming at me.
        D***….my cheeks are heating up.

        After dinner, ______ insists I follow her to her room. Upon entering, I notice she's set up a clean, white canvas on her easel.
        "Why-a did you want-a me, ragazza?" I ask, irritation lingering from dinner since Gilbert refused to shut up about his 'awesomeness'.
        "Don't feel offended, but I heard you wanted to improve your painting skills. I've spent countless hours painting, so I think I can probably teach you. That is, if you want me to, of course!" explains ______, as she eagerly pats the seat next to hers in front of the easel.
        Unable to refuse and not wanting to hurt her feelings, I shyly sit down. I try to hide behind a mask of bored irritation, when on the inside my heart is beating fast with my unsteady nerves.
        Wasting no time, ______ hands me a paintbrush and demonstrates different brush strokes. I mimic her to the best of my ability, and soon we're painting an entire picture together. Vivid colors eat away at the white canvas as we bring our imagination into reality.
        Silently, I admire her steady, careful hand as she paints her side. There is no remaining doubt about her skills as an artist now.
        When we finish, we step back to examine the result of our efforts. With a border of detailed foliage, there lay a cityscape resembling a street in Rome. The colors are matched to imitate sunset.
        ______ turns to me with her mouth open and ready to say something.
        "Umm vat ist zat? A cardboard box?"
        Spinning around I send a sharp glare Gilbert's way and notice he's looking at my side of the painting.
        "No! It's supposed to be-a the side of-a the Colosseum!" I snap, the combination of humiliation and shaky confidence bringing forth tears to my eyes.
        Not wanting _______ to see me cry, I race out of the room.
        "Lovino! Wait!"
        I ignore her and storm out of the house despite the icy wind sending snow whipping into my face. Tears that manage to escape are frozen upon my red cheeks as I mentally scold myself for being so foolish. I already knew I couldn't paint, but I wanted to spend time with ______. Now she is going to think I am a cry-baby like my brother and will not look my way again.
        Unable to protect myself from being sensitive to criticism, I find myself wishing I could rewind the clock.
        "Lovino?! Where are you?!" calls ______, her voice sounding desperate and thick with worry.
        Glancing down at the paintbrush still in my hand, I prepare to throw it into a snow drift.
        "Lovino?! Lovino, there you are!" Hearing boots crunch in the fresh snow, I turn to see _____ running towards me.
        "Go away ragazza! I don't want to-a talk to you!" I snap at her, tears threatening to make a reappearance.
        "Please, Lovino, tell me what's wrong!" pleads ______, her (e/c) eyes round with worry.
        I watch as snowflakes trap themselves in her (h/c) hair. Avoiding her gaze, I throw my paintbrush at her.
        "I-a said go away!" She gasps as the paintbrush splatters green paint across her pale, tan coat.
        "I'm just trying to help, you jerk!" Picking up my paintbrush, she flings both it and hers at me.
        Green and red paint splatters across my gray T-shirt and fuming, I pick up the two paintbrushes, raising them threateningly.
        Her eyes widening and aware of what is to come next, she dashes back to the house as I toss the paintbrushes at her. After a moment, she returns with some cans of paint.
        "Now you're going to get it!" warns ______ as she charges at me with the pre-opened paint can.
        Unable to escape her attack, orange paint splashes me in the face and luckily, I close my eyes in time. As I wipe the paint from my eyelids, she runs to reload.
        "Get-a back here ragazza!" With me in pursuit, _____ makes a dive in the snow for the second can.
        Without being able to stop in time, I trip and fall on top of her. My weight pins her down and I seize the opportunity to grab the can and dumb its blue contents on her.
        As the moon shines brightly in the night sky, ______ and I continue our paint war until we're at a stand-off, facing each other across the snow. After a pause lasting several heartbeats, we rush forward at each other, paint cans at the ready.
       When we collide, we realize there is not paint left and tossing my can aside, I tackle her into the snow.
       As we lay there, trying to catch our breath, my anger evaporates in the cool, night air.
       "I'm sorry, bella."
        Shifting in the snow to stare at me, I notice the frustration is absent from her eyes.
        "It's okay, Lovi. It's Gilbert's fault for saying that," reassures ______.
        "I….I-a just wanted to-a impress you, ______...." I confess quietly.
        "Then consider me impressed, Lovi." Smiling warmly at me, she pulls me closer to plant a kiss on my lips.
        It takes me a moment to come to truths that this is what my heart is yearning for: a chance to find someone special and hold them close.
        Gathering ______ in my arms, I press closer, deepening the kiss. Only the need for air forces me to break away.
        "Ti amo, ______," I confess softly in her ear.
        "I love you too, Lovi." I've never seen a brighter smile on her face.
        Moving to sneak in another kiss, I lay there with _____ for a few moments more inside our crudely-shaped heart painted into the snow.