Novel & Cerita Hetalia Chibi Italy

“Vico, Chiarina, this is Althaia. My love. Althaia, meet Vico and Chiarina Mancini.” “Buonasera Mr. and Mrs. Mancini.” Althaia greeted them in Italian with a smile. Both Vico and Chiarina were baffled for a moment, looking at Althaia as if she was not real. “Finally!” They both exclaimed at the same time and shoved me away to hug her. I shook my head at them as they gathered around her, holding her hands and giving her endless compliments as talked to her with so much excitement. Althaia smiled shyly at them and a blush crept on her face.

His tone was like ice, every word a threat, cutting through the false politeness of the room. Adriano chuckled, a dry, unsettling sound that grated on Hades’s nerves. He leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable. “Ouuuuuu I should be terrified? Always so eager to flex those American muscles. Very well. A quick peek, for old times’ sake. But don’t expect a torture show, my dear Hades. We Italians are not as barbaric as you Americans. We don’t torture women. We... appreciate them. We fuck them.” He laughed, a high-pitched, disturbing cackle that made Hades’s blood boil, an ugly, perverted sound that echoed in the concrete room. “You sick bastard!” Hades roared, his face contorting w

I babble on to her about my entire meeting with the Italian man. “Ohhh, so you found him sexy, I can tell by the way you keep biting your bottom lip while you talk about him," Lana points out. “Shut up," I snicker. “Be honest, how hot was he on a scale of 1 to 10?" “Well, he was a solid 20," I laugh out when I see her making the 'wow' face. “Damn, I want an Italian sex-machine," she fans her face with her hand. We giggle our way downstairs, still laughing at my encounter with the sexy Greek God.

Adelina purred around him like a sleek kitten, which seemed to amuse him, but then Adelina was Italian, and as a race of people they were like that, open and warm and more touchy-feely than the British—her, Charley thought, making the rueful distinction. She’d never purred around any man and couldn’t imagine ever wanting to—which made the way she quivered around Dami De Santis all the more disturbing to her peace of mind. He wasn’t her type. He was too much of everything. Too big and tall, too lean and dark, too sexy and handsome—too crushingly cool and terrifyingly enigmatic, she decided as she hooked up her little silver beaded evening bag and headed for the door.

He must be at least forty centimeters taller than me. "Ragazza, don't make me say it one more time," he whispers menacingly in my ear, his deep voice coupled with his Italian accent making the hair on my legs stand on end. Do I have a thing for Italians? Is this why I have never fallen in love with a Brazilian? Ragazza means girl and this brings back memories of my father, only he called me that. He puts his hands in his pants pockets, striking a bad man's pose. I feel a tangle of butterflies inside my stomach.

If it wasn't about to turn me mad, then, of course, why not? "Matteo, get down from that table right now before you hurt yourself," Obediently he did jump from the table but to the arms of the chair, going further to pull his sister up to himself. "All I'm saying is," Char picked up the conversation, "We need something strong to tell Italy that La belle exists," "But how?" "Don't ask me that; your husband is the president of the fuvking country; you've got a part of the world under your feet; make use of it" Knowing me, she added, "Enough of the pride."

With a Cheshire cat grin, Vivaldi proudly proclaims, "You heard it here first. Chloe is my girlfriend." All mouths gape in bewilderment, except for mine. I know Vivaldi must have Chloe under his Vampiric mind control. The room falls silent; everyone freezes, bug-eyed. You could've heard a pin drop. Suddenly, Scarlett bursts out laughing, her amusement shattering the silence. "Oh, come on!" she cries out, voice laden with disbelief. "That's got to be the most absurd thing to ever leave your mouth!"

“Poor thing? That is what you call a puppy who has been abandoned by his master. But me?” “Well, sometimes you act like one,” I shot back, narrowing my eyes playfully. “Excuse me?” He feigned offense, sitting up slightly, with his eyes open. “I am the head of the Morelli family. The most feared man in Italy. I don’t act like a puppy.” “Mm-hmm,” I said, arching my eyebrows. “But when you snuggled into my lap like that, I swear I heard you whimper” “I didn't,” he said.

Leonardo nodded, drinking from his glass of whisky as he looked at the man and then at me, "please, call her Unicorn." "I was unaware that Unicorn was a girl," the Italian man said with a sneer as he looked at me, his eyes scanning my body, "but, she is very beautiful," he said with a chuckle, a hungry look suddenly flashed across his face as he looked at me but I remained passive. "Leonardo," he turned to look at Leonardo and Leonardo simply raised an eyebrow, "can I touch her?" The corner of Leonardo's lips raised up as he nodded, "sure," he said.

Smirk widened. “What?” I loosened my grip slightly. My eyes trailed down his body. Fuck. His chest. Right over his heart. My name in bold script: “Levi.” A small crown sat above it—like the one on my neck. From his ear down the side of his neck: “Lë:vi” in elegant Italian script. Then across his lower abdomen, where the V dipped toward his groin: “Levi King” in thorned lettering that wrapped around his hip like it was claiming him too.