A/N: I obviously don't own Hetalia or I wouldn't be here. I only own the plot line...of which I'm uncertain of. So, do you like the title? I thought of it later last night, so here it is- I'll stop talking now- And sorry about the rambling in this
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It was an interesting relationship they had to say the least. Half the time, she acted like she couldn't stand him, but in all honesty, she was just trying to ignore how she actually felt about the Spaniard that she felt so strongly for.

She questioned how in the world she had even fallen in love with him, especially when he was so goddamn clueless about her feelings towards him, but she somehow felt attracted to him.

Chiara often wondered about why she liked him. Maybe it was their shared love of tomatoes. That was honestly the best answer she could come up with. Well that, and the fact that they both came from quite... passionate, that being the best word for that, countries in the Mediterranean.

Then there was the thoughts of maybe just liking Antonio for his looks. She did have to admit, well at least to herself, that he was indeed good looking, but she was sure she wasn't that shallow.

The brunette sighs to herself, finding another weekend wasted while trying to guess why in the world she liked the bubbly brunet that she had been childhood friends with.

She seriously had no idea how he could easily set people up in a matchmaker type way, yet he was so incredibly blind to how she felt about him. Then again, she could probably blame his friends on the matchmaking thing. They were just an odd trio in her opinion. She had no idea how to even react to him anymore. She knew everyone else saw how she would blush every time he just simply smiled at her.

The Italian groans to herself as she sits up on her bed, realizing that it was almost two in the afternoon on a Sunday. She had become so engrossed with her thoughts that she hadn't even realized that she was hungry. Or that she still had to do most of her homework (which she honestly didn't care much about).

Dragging herself out of bed, she suddenly became aware of something else other than her hunger. Opening her bedroom door, she could hear two voices, one of them being her sisters while the other being the oblivious idiot she had spent the last three hours thinking about.

She shuts her door quietly and looks at herself in the mirror, wanting to actually look somewhat decent for the tomato bastard even though she was pretty sure that he wouldn't even really care if she looked somewhat good or not. He only seemed to care when she blushed like one of his stupid, precious tomatoes.

Chiara huffs and runs a hand through her hair and adjusts her pajamas, a simple t-shirt with baggy shorts. After all, the spring days had been warming the house up a bit since the winter, but she couldn't go back to her normal summer sleeping habits of wearing basically no clothes to sleep. Which, of course, Antonio had walked on into before. At least she was mostly covered during that-

She lightly frowns at her reflection, trying to tell herself that she won't let him bother her today no matter what, although she doubted that would seriously happen. The brunette soon leaves her room and frowns lightly when she heard both of the voices stop.

Almost as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, Chiara was practically glomped by no one other than her sister.

"Sorella, I thought you would never come down," the younger of the two says. "I thought you died, but then Toni came over and got me distracted from checking on you."

Chiara glares at her sister and pushes her away. "I could've been dead, but just because the stupid tomato bastard is here, you decided to not fucking check. Why did I even come downstairs?" She says, mumbling the last part to herself before getting herself a tomato to eat. Mostly because, well, why not really?

Antonio was surprisingly used to this. After all, he had been friends with the sisters for most of his life. The only thing he questioned is where Chiara had learned the word 'fuck' from- Anyway, he sighed softly when he sees that the younger sister, Feliciana had started to tear up.

"She does have a point there, Feli," he says, glancing between Chiara and her sister. He gave them both small smiles before continuing. "You still should've at least checked on her."

Chiara smirks slightly as she eats her tomato, looking away with a blush when the Spaniard would look over at her. Feliciana sniffles and hugs her sister once more. "Mi dispiace, sorella. Mi dispiace!" She cries out. "Please don't hate me."

The older of the siblings sighs heavily and nods. "I don't hate you," she huffs out. "I like you enough to stay here with you, so that's an up side of this, right?" She never really knew why, but she had always had a problem of saying 'I love you' or really any derivative of it. The only time she didn't have a problem with it was when she would talk about her odd obsession with tomatoes, which really was quite odd. She only used the word 'love' when she talked about her favorite things and she only told her sister that she loved her too when no one else was around, in Italian.

Feliciana nods, knowing that was probably the best she would get from her sister as long as Antonio was there. Despite being quite oblivious herself, the younger Italian had noticed that her sister always acted a bit different when she was around the Spaniard, but she doubted that Chiara had noticed that fact in herself. When it was just the two sisters, Chiara occasionally acted quite nice, well, not super nice or anything, but she would at least hug back sometimes.

It just seemed like she had put a wall around herself for whatever reason whenever Antonio was around, but no one could really blame her. It's just really how Chiara got through a lot of things such as their guardian, a.k.a. their grandfather, had always favored Feliciana out of the two of them. In all honesty, she was glad to have Antonio with her, but she just had a hard time of showing it.

Antonio smiles a bit at the two, glad they weren't fighting (although that really wasn't a fight that they had just had). He took a moment to just look at the two, he often did this mostly to just see the differences between the two of them. Though there was two years between them, they still looked somewhat similar (that and they were siblings-). Feliciana had her hair about the same length as her older sister's, something that Antonio had always found adorable, but the girl had her hair almost always pulled up. Something else he found adorable was both of their vocal tics, Feliciana's 've's (which usually came when she was excited about something or tired) and Chiara's 'chigi's (which happened when she was embarrassed or really annoyed).

The more he did this, the more he had realized his feelings for the older Italian. She was only a year younger than him, making her a junior while he was a senior in their local high school. He had come to terms a long time ago with his crush on his friend, but he just tried to ignore it, figuring that she didn't like him back. If only he knew how wrong he was.

Finally noticing he had been staring at them - not like they noticed or anything as the sisters had started a conversation in Italian, something he was quite used to - Antonio looked away, blushing as he smiled to himself. He just wished that he would actually one day tell Chiara how he felt, but he could wait. He didn't really want to ruin anything between them.

"Oi, idiota!" Chiara says and flicks Antonio's forehead, pouting a bit at him. "I was talking to you, you know, but you looked like you were in your own little world there." Antonio laughs slightly, actually having been in his own little world. He smiles warmly at her and says, "I was just thinking about how adorable you are, Lovi~"

Earning himself a hit on the back of the head and a heavy blush from the Italian, she huffs a bit. "I thought I told you to not call me that anymore," she says, her curl bouncing slightly after she had huffs. The nickname Lovi came from her middle name, Lovina. Her little sister had had a harder time saying Chiara than Lovina so that's just kind of how it worked out.

Chiara had never minded the nickname, that of course being when she was younger. Nowadays, she would much rather be called by her actual name, but then there was Antonio, who insisted on calling her Lovi no matter how old she was, or really where they were. He would usually get the same reaction no matter when he said it, but he just liked to see her blush.

"I just wanted to know if you could help me with my homework," she says, glancing away from him with a small blush and puffed out cheeks. "I just don't understand a part of it and I think you could help." She was being completely honest. She was only procrastinating (something she considered a sport) so much since she didn't understand the homework.

Antonio smiles brightly and nods. "Sí, of course I would help you," he says, glad to help her with anything since he knew how she hardly ever asked for help. Chiara smiles a bit and nods. "I'm only saying this once," she says, glancing at him, the counter, then the floor before mumbling out the rest. "Grazie." The flustered brunette then quickly went up to her room to avoid more embarrassment and to get her homework.

The two downstairs look at each other, oddly surprised that she had said 'thank you', and to him none the less. Feliciana shrugs lightly, the fifteen year old starting to plan how to get them together. She was quite glad that Francis had decided to teach her how to match make.

Sorella - sister
Mi dispiace - I'm sorry
Grazie - Thank you

A/N: *whispers* How is it? I'm planning on making it multi chapter or I could end it here- Just give me some feedback please