If there was one thing Romano hated about waking up with a hangover, it was the waking up. His hurt like all kinds of hell, his eyes hurt, his back hurt... was it possible for his hair to hurt? He groaned wishing that he had listened to Antonio and stopped after that last glass of wine. He snuggled beneath the blankets that covered him willing for more sleep that did not come. In the end, he ended up poking his head from the coverlets and squinting at a pale back.

He poked it, tracing a scar with his index finger. He leant up a bit, pushing himself up until his head was propped up on a snoozing albino's shoulder. "Hey Gilbert...," he breathed softly into the other's ear.

Gilbert responded with a small groan before tilting his head to look up at Romano drowsingly. "Vas?" he asked wondering why his lover was bothering him so early in the morning after all the both of them had drunken yesterday.

"Coffee." Romano prodded Gilbert with his finger. The only medicine for a bad hangover was nice cup of coffee and then a warm shower. The only answer, but first, he wanted the coffee.

Coffee that did not look like it was coming. Gilbert had only rolled his eyes and turnt back over. Romano stared at the audacity of this man who had just rejected him such a simple offer. He poked him again, this time more of a jab. When he got no response, he huffed and crawled from the sheets.

A small stumble as he slipped over a pair of forgotten pants, then several unsteady steps into the kitchen. He walked about, letting out a small sound of victory when he found the espresso machine tucked away in a corner next to the stove. He had just placed it down on the stovetop when he heard the scamper of feet behind him and a small little meow at his feet.

"Buongiorno Adriano," he said as he moved away from the stove and found a leaning post against the counter to wait for the sound of it being ready. He muffled a yawn, closing his eyes just for a second...

Romano woke up with a start and a curse realising how much time had passed. Great. Now he had burnt his coffee. There went his morning pick-me-up. He looked about for more coffee ground, but found the bit he used to be the last of it in the house. Just his luck. He cursed some more and emptied the ruined coffee down the drain.

Two arms wrapped around his waist when he got around to rinsing and washing out the pot. "Burnt it?"

Romano scowled and turnt around. "Si," he said with all his displeasure at his hangover routine being interrupted, "and we're out of ground coffee." Not too mention his head still kind of hurt, a throbbing near his temple. He reached up and rubbed at it. He did not feel like going to the store.

A glass pressed against his lips, and he opened them a bit, the taste of apples touching his tongue. "Apple juice?" he asked reaching up and grabbing the cup for himself.

Gilbert nodded and hummed. "Ja," he said with a smile. "We can buy more coffee later," he said as Romano continued to sip the juice. It was better than nothing, the Italian had decided. He looked up to find the German in front of him pouring his own glass and sipping on it himself. They looked at each other before Gilbert smiled a bit, warming up Romano's mood a bit. He smiled himself, but hid it well behind his own cup.

Maybe he should adjust his hangover routine to fit in just a little glass of apple juice.