Dear Diary, I don't know where people get the idea that Spain's a morning person. If either of us
it the morning person, it's me. Don't look at me like that! It's true! I haven't dealt with stupidity
yet when I first wake up so I'm in the best mood I'm in all day. Spain on the other hand... Well,
there's a reason "The sun never sets on the Spanish Empire;" It's afraid to. When it comes back up,
the bastard's out for blood. Just saying.

Romano opened his eyes as the sun poured into the window of his room. Rolling over, he glanced over at his alarm clock and nearly groaned. 6:30. Yanking the blanket over his head didn't help the situation so it was obvious that sleep was a lost cause. 6:30, he thought, early enough to wake up, but too early to make any noise.

Romano missed his curtains and he missed being able to sleep late, but his curtains were in Spain's room, doubling his window's protection. The Italian wasn't sure why Spain hated the morning sun so much, but he wasn't about to ask any questions.

Yeah, yeah. Romano notices that this is very out of character for him, too, except that it's not. At Spain's house, the morning was never talked about and it was like the twilight zone. Weird things happen in the morning.

Romano crept pass Spain's room as quietly as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was wake up the man that raised him. Doing that could be the difference between his life and death.

Once he was safely in the kitchen, Romano allowed himself to be a little bit louder as he made breakfast.

Honestly, he was almost reluctant to make coffee. If the smell woke up the sleeping demon, the Italian would be dead before he could offer breakfast as a peace offering. Nevertheless, the coffee pot was on and Romano was putting pastries in the oven. Pastries required the least noise when it came to breakfast and was therefore Romano's best option.

Without realizing it, Romano began humming to himself. He rather enjoyed morning. There weren't any people around to annoy him in the morning, so it happened to be his favorite part of the day.

Unfortunately for the young nation, his humming carried down the hallway and seeped into Spain's room.

Romano was sitting on a stool by the counter sipping his coffee when he looked over to see a very angry and disheveled Spain standing next to him.

The Italian yelped and jumped, spilling coffee down his shirt. He moved to his feet and pulled his shirt away from his body. "H-hello Spain... Good morning."

"What do you think you're doing," Spain growled.

"I was just... I'm making breakfast and... Would you like some coffee? Or tea, maybe? I'd be glad to..."

The older nation glared down at Romano and shook his head once as a small bell went off, causing him to cringe.

"Ha ha," Romano laughed nervously. "Look at that! The food is done!" He rushed over to the oven and yanked out the pastries. He placed one on a plate and shoved it under Spain's nose. "Doesn't it smell great?"

The Spaniard nodded tersely and took the plate from Romano, sitting down at the small breakfast table.

The young nation breathed a sigh of relief and placed a small mug of coffee in front of Spain. I almost lost my life.

When Spain finished breakfast, he disappeared upstairs to take a shower and get dressed. The good news was that Spain was always in a better mood after he ate and showered, but the bad news was that he never cleaned up after himself.

Romano frowned deeply at Spain's empty dishes on the table and shuddered at the thought of what the bathroom was going to look like. If he didn't clean it, the house would be a wreck by noon and Spain would do nothing about it.

The more he thought about it, the more bitter he became. He was going to have to go home for a few days, maybe that would help improve his mood.

As he finished putting away the clean dishes, the doorbell rang.

"What do you want?" Romano frowned at France when he opened the door. "Don't you know what time it is? We could've still been asleep! Can't you call us before you just pop over for a visit?"

"I'm here to see Spain, you bitter little ball of cuteness," France swooned as he pinched Romano's cheek.

"Don't touch me!" he yelled.

"Romano!" Spain smiled as he walked up to the door. "You shouldn't be mean to our guest," he scolded.

South Italy rolled his eyes and walked away, leaving the two older nations alone.

France put an arm over Spain's shoulder. "I don't know how you survive morning with such a surly boy," France sighed, shaking his head.

"It's hard," Spain replied with a nod. "But somehow I can survive it."

A/N

The first part, the diary entry, is courtesy of HetaliaDiaries dot tumblr. I like how some of the diaries look like they would make a good backstory and when I find one I think I'll be able to write a good one shot to, I will.

I hope you all enjoyed this and I hope you'll take the time to leave a review.

Good night and DFTBA