Nowhere (1p!HetaOni x Gender Neutral!Reader x 2p!HetaOni)

PhoNE CalLs - PaRt 1

【 D4y 2, B453m3nt, Curr3n7 T1m3 L00p - 1t4ly 】

Italy stands outside the cell room, the door closed firmly behind him as Germany's yelling echoes around the hall, slowly sinking into the dark. Italy can't help the frown, his eyes falling to the floor as he releases a heavy sigh. He begins slowly roaming, his feet inching forwards as he thinks over what just happened.

"They got really mad at me. Germany's face was so scary... straight out of a nightmare." His voice fades, his eyelids falling. He takes a deep breath, attempting to calm his heart. "Maybe... next time it won't be so hard." His throat tightens; it becomes harder for him to breath. He hears a noise. He jumps, his feet coming off the floor as his arms raised into the air, goosebumps covering his skin.

"Germany! Japan!" He yells, looking around for his friends. Then he falls silent, the fear ebbing away as his eyes sting. "Oh, right, they're not here..." The noise continues. "My phone?" He pats himself down. He furrows his brow, removing it from his inside pocket. "Scary... Who is it? And how can they call me, anyway? It's not meant to work here..." He purses his lips as he reads the caller ID. "Cosa?!" He widens his eyes before bringing the phone to his ear and answering it. His eyes dart around, trying to think of what to say. "Um! Roma--"

"You idiota!" The voice yells. "What took you so fucking long to answer, goddammit?! When the phone rings, you're meant to answer it after two seconds, max!" The angry Italian shouts down the line, impatient and fuming.

"What?! What? No way!" Italy clutches the phone with both hands. "It's true?! It's really you?! How? You are Romano, aren't you?!" Italy panics. "It's really you?!"

"No, it's Santa. Merry fucking Christmas." Romano drags on, before snapping back in an obvious tone. "Of course it's me, you dumbass." Romano yells through the line. Then he makes a pained noise. "Hey, wait! Spain!! You can't take my phone! Give it back!" Romano's voice becomes faint as the phone is moved away from his mouth.

"Spain, too? It can't be true..." The hopeful expression is removed, morphing into worry. "Why?" Italy breaths, a lump forming in his throat. "Mio Dio..!"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Now shut up and listen to me, Venezian--" he stops, shuffling around to bring the phone closer to his ear. "Are you crying?" His voice jumps from rough to soft in moments, worry flooding him.

"No," Italy sniffs, shaking his head as he gives a negative hum through the line. "I-I'm just so happy." He rubs his nose. "Hey, Romano." His voice is tiny now. "Can you fill in for me at work tomorrow?"

"Huh?"

"Tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and forever and ever and ever." Another staggering breath. "Can you?" Italy takes a shaky breath, holding in his unshed tears. Romano is quiet, and Italy almost begins saying something before his brother cuts him off.

"No."

"Roman--"

"It's your job. Just get your Italian ass back here, and fucking take care of it yourself!" He groans, but it begins to glitch. "An--real--idio--well--ly--"

"Romano?" The static continues. "I can't hear you!" Italy panics. He listens quietly for a moment, but no reply. "Ci-ciao!" He looks to the screen and furrows his eyebrows. "It got cut off..." he then chuckles, smiling to himself. "Their voices. It's been so long!" He wipes his eyes, ridding them of his unshed tears. "I wish I could go home."

【 D4y 2, 2# 54f3r00m, Curr3n7 Tim3 700p - F74vi0, 4ndr3s, Xi40, 4773n, M477hi3u, Fr4nc0i5, 07iv3r, Gi773n & (F/n) 】