You were flopped out on your couch, peacefully staring at the ceiling, when your door flew open and your best friend (and crush) Romano stormed in, looking angry about something.
"Knocking is a thing, you do know that, right?" you muttered, sitting up.
"Whatever-a, bella," he huffed, sitting down next to you and folding his arm.
You smiled to yourself and asked, "So, what's up?"
"That stupido tomato bastard!" he scowled.
"What'd he say this time?" you asked.
To you surprise, Romano's face turned pink.
"Bella, I have a question-a for you," he said. "And I want-a you to answer-a honestly, got it?"
"Sure," you shrugged. "What's the question?"
"Do you-a like that bastardo?"
"What? Spain?" you blinked. "No."
"And you're not lying?" he asked suspiciously.
"No," you said, rolling your eyes. "I like . . . someone else, okay? Why are you asking anyway?"
"Because I think-a he likes-a you," Romano puffed.
"And why do you care if he likes me?" you asked, raising your eyebrows.
His blush doubled. "Because I like-a you, bella, and he's not allowed-a to like my bella."
His voice was less that a whisper, but you heard it clearly nonetheless.
You tackled him down with a hug.
"What-a the hell, bella?!" he protested. "Get off-a!"
"I like you too," you grinned, not relinquishing your hold on him.
"You . . . what?" He sounded confused.
"I like you too," you repeated, finally letting go of him and sitting up.
His shock was slowly replaced with a grin, and before you knew it, he had taken your face in his hands and was kissing you.

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Translations:
Bella = beautiful
Stupido = stupid
Bastardo = bastard