literature

Reader x Romano Part One

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Literature Text

Why were you going to Spain right now? Heck, why were you even in an airplane right now? You hoped this had to do with your birthday. Why else would your friends and family, through you into the house after work, give you the time to pack a single bag, hand you a fistful of cash, wink, then drive you to the airport, on the day before your birthday?

Yet here you were, flying to Spain, on the biggest airplane you've ever seen. Staring out your window, you sighed. You've had a crazy day today. At least your family and friends got you a window seat. This was going to be a long flight with nothing to do.

You decided to search through your only bag. Why not? Maybe you got lucky, and there was something you could read or something in there. About three pairs of clothes, check. A pair of flip flops, check. Your tickets home, check. Your passport and wallet, among other things, check. Your pencil from school, check. Your reservation for a hotel, check. Around three hundred dollars in cash? Check.

Finally, you discovered your iPod. You took it out, and faster than anything you've ever done before, put the ear buds in your ear, and turned it on. The screen blinked on, then when black again. It was dead.

Now only another seven hours with nothing to do. Nothing.

Except watch the person next to you, that is. The person looked about your age, maybe a little older, with brown hair, and hazel eyes. He was drawing on his notepad, sketching something you couldn't see, his arm protecting his picture from any prying eyes. Every so often, his gaze would travel up, and he'd look around the plane, then back to his drawing.

You couldn't help but stare, his hazel eyes shone with inspiration, he forehead was crinkled in concentration, and his mouth was set into a thin line. He looked so, focused, you decided, after a moment. It was hard to think straight, you would get lost watching him draw.

Before you knew it, it was time again to appear busy, act like you were listening to your music, while he looked up. You could time it just right, and had been watching him draw for, how long now? Stupid dead iPod.

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Crunch.

The sound was so miniscule and soft, it took you a second to figure out if you had even heard it. It took another to figure out what it was. Then you heard the boy next to you mutter something that sounded suspiciously like a curse. He threw his hands into the air for a moment, then through his hair.

"Stupid pencil," he muttered, with a thick, Italian sounding accent. The tip of his pencil had broken. You swore a light bulb appeared over your head, and you grabbed your bag. Searching around for it, you grinned when you felt it in your finger tips. Your pencil still in the bag from school.

"Here, could you use this?" You asked, trying to sound as friendly as possible. He looked up at you for a moment, looking surprised, his mouth forming an "O" shape. You couldn't tell if he was going to say no, or accept it, and for one terrifying moment, you thought he'd get mad and say no. But his face changed into an expression more kind and soft.

He reached out, and took the pencil, without a word. Putting the tip to the paper, he shook his head, then looked up and said, "Thank you," so quietly you weren't even sure he said it. Except, before you could see what he had been drawing for so long, his arm was in the way again.

Slowly, you fell into your pattern again, watch, pretend to listen, and watch again. It wasn't until they offered dinner, that the pattern was interrupted. The man moved his arm, but before you could catch even a glimpse of his picture, the notebook was tucked away.

After eating, you leaned against the window, thinking about what a day it had been. How many times would this happen in your life? Probably only this time. Your eyes felt heavy, and your brain thought sluggishly. Slowly but surely, you fell asleep.

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Shuffling. It was the only sound you could hear. You had always been a light sleeper, at least when it came to airplanes, and had not expected to stay asleep for very long. Stretching, careful not to disturb the person next to you, you opened you eyes. The man was gone.

He must of left to use the restroom. His sketchbook was right in the pouch in front of his seat. You might of spent the past hour or so watching him, but you never saw the picture. Immediately, a fight broke out inside you.

Did you look at it? Or did you leave it. He obviously hadn't wanted anyone to see it, why else put his arm there, right? It could of been coincidence, you supposed. The weaker side of you eagerly jumped onto this idea. Of course, why would he hide his picture? What if it was of something, inappropriate? That meant, you should check it, just to make sure he wasn't a creeper or something.

What if he came back to find you looking at his drawing? Even if you just wanted a peek, nothing more, would he get mad? What if you got in trouble? You couldn't ruin your birthday present over something stupid. No, you shouldn't look at it.

Carefully, not to draw attention to yourself, you looked above the seats. The man was still in line, outside the bathroom door.

Okay, it's now or never you thought. Slowly, you lifted the sketchbook out of the pocket.

You noticed two things,

First it was signed Lovino Romano Vargas.
And it was a picture of you.  
This is the first story I've ever submitted to this group. *Is really nervous*

I didn't check over this, so it is probably full of mistakes, sorry.

Anyway, since I had two Romano x Reader stories requested, I decided to just make one, so please don't be mad. I didn't have any ideas.

But it's going to be two parts and kinda longish, so hopefully it will be okay.

Requested by YukiMisukiWang and lauralovesanime

I do not own the characters,
only the story,

And if you don't belong to Romano, Russia owns you
© 2012 - 2024 111fun
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