RomanoXReader: Handcuffed [1]

You glanced over to your left to see a forever PMSing Italian. You were quite used to this sight, actually. Ever since the two of you were somehow bonded together by some indestructible handcuffs, you both shared some fairly memorable moments with each other, all of which were awkward and unpleasant. Then again, things would never be pleasant with Romano around. The Italian was grouchy as hell.

You sighed as you pondered on your current situation. This wasn't something you had planned for to happen while you studied abroad in Italy. Not at all.

You closed your eyes and thought back to the day you were first introduced (and handcuffed) to Romano. You had just gotten off the plane to Italy that day, and the two of you met in the most...peculiar way.

“Thank you for flying with Alitalia. We hope you have a great time in Rome.”

You groggily unbuckled your seat belt and stretched. Your limbs were aching from being confined in one spot. The excitement its took place when you rubbed your eyes and gazed out the window. Realization struck your mind as your face instantly lit up. You were in Italy!

Exuberance coursed through your body. You couldn't wait to get off the carrier and roam around the city. You quickly took your luggage and nearly ran out the airport.

Captivating was the only word you could've used to describe the country. The moment you left the building the cold, air-conditioned air was quickly replaced by the warmth of the blazing Mediterranean sun. The styles of architecture in the surrounding buildings varied, and the people milling about spoke Italian with rapid tongues. 

And you expected nothing less.

You made your way to a taxi and gave the driver the directions to the hotel the university provided for you with your broken Italian. When you finally got him to understand what you were trying to say, the engine started and the taxi jerked forward.

You leaned back into your seat and let your mind wander. This was your first time staying at a different country, and you wouldn't have been there if it weren't for the scholarship the university had offered to you. You were aiming to become an interpreter and hopefully work for the UN one day. You were to perfect your Italian on your year abroad and learn more about the Italian culture.

The taxi came to a stop and the driver helped you get your bags out of the trunk. The interior of the hotel was exactly how you imagined it to be, plain and simple. It didn't really shock you, you were here to study after all, not to experience luxury.

You had decided to leave for Italy three weeks prior to when school started, so you would have enough time to go sightseeing before you immersed yourself in dozens of thick textbooks. You really hoped that at least a few people spoke English around here, as your Italian was nowhere near good enough to get by.

You quickly changed out of the wrinkled clothes you had worn during the entire trip to Rome and into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. You decided that it would be best to just take a walk around and then find a nice restaurant that served good ol' traditional pasta. Oh God, just thinking about it made your mouth water. As you walked, your mind was occupied trying to decide what type of pasta you should eat for lunch. You were starving and all you had eaten the past 9 hours was cheap airplane peanuts.

You were on the verge of deciding between chicken alfredo and spaghetti when you noticed a large group of people gathering around someone. Curious, you pushed through the crowd to see it was a magician performing an act. He seemed to be a middle-aged man, possibly in his forties, and was wearing the type of clothing you would normally see magicians wear. Your tried to understand to what he was saying, but he was speaking too quickly.

The magician suddenly took a young man's hand from the crowd and dragged him to the stage. The young man didn't look too happy with it either.

The next words were a bit easier to comprehend. He said something about "magic tricks" and “handcuffs”.

“Any female volunteers?” he suddenly said in English.

A surge of women started raising their hands, wanting the magician to pick them. You just stood there, without doing anything. You didn't really want to be a part of it. You must have stood out from the rest of young ladies because then the magician locked his eyes on you.

“Te ragazza!”

“Me?”

“Si!”

The man grabbed your hand and walked you over to the young man he had taken out of the crowd earlier. Now that you were standing right in front of him, you could see his features more clearly. He was pretty much your average Italian save for the scowl on his face. Huh, you thought that Italians were always happy.

...you really had to stop listening to stereotypes.

The man then turned to the audience and started speaking in Italian again. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

"I don't understand a word he's saying," you muttered.

"He's talking about his next act. He's going to handcuff us and then make the handcuffs 'disappear' apparently."

You swung you head over to the young man next to you. You didn't expect him to be fluent in English. 

"Oh..."

Just like he had said, the magician reached under his coat and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. The silver gleamed in the light, and you knew that those weren't just your everyday handcuffs. They seemed too...odd. He latched them onto the both of us and asked for our names.

"Romano."

"I'm _-"

Before I could finish introducing myself, a loud siren wailed. A police car? you thought. Why in the world is that here...? The policeman took out a pistol, pointed it at the magician, and shouted what seemed like a warning in Italian. The crowd around you fled, and you stood there trying to process what was going on.

"Stupid girl, run!" Romano said, trying to pull the both of you both out of the way. A harsh tug on your wrist snapped you out of your trance.

"W-What's happening?" you asked Romano. Your legs were already growing tired but you still tried to keep up with the Italian's stride. Romano didn't answer and suddenly ducked under some bushes. You, being handcuffed to him, were taken down as well. After what felt like an hour, the gunshots died down and Romano peeked over the green foliage.

“Oi, polizia! What the fuck just happened here?” 

The instant the policeman saw Romano, he flinched. “Mi dispiace, signore!” You were puzzled. Why was he being so formal? The policeman started explaining to Romano what had happened, and you became more and more irritated at the lack of understanding.

“Look, can you just get these fucking handcuffs off of me?” he asked, holding up his right hand. “I don't want to be stuck with this idiota.”

You glared at him. Did he just call you an idiot?! You huffed. Now you just wanted to get as far away from this man as possible.

The policeman examined the silver material that was binding both of our hands together. He scratched his head and smiled apologetically. “There...doesn't seem to be a key hole for these. It looks like you two will be stuck together for a while.”

Stuck together for a while. Those words rang through your ears. Oh no. Oh God no.