The Spanish woman puffed her cheeks out at Prussia as he messed up her hair- again. Really, first North, now Prussia, why did everyone had to mess up her 'do? Well, it never really was flat or styled anyway, but still! France had finally strutted his fancy ass over and into the cuddle-puddle, giving the other two a peck on the cheek to which Spain rolled her eyes at. She'll lick his chin later or something. She felt the fingers tap against her side, and she let the Frenchman do so. Anyone else she would've castrated them, but it was France, and France was a friend and she knew that he knew her level of tolerance so it was okay. It was all teasing and poking fun anyway or quirky signs of affection- no harm in that. "Discúlpeme?" Spain huffed loudly, her vibrant green eyes glaring up at the two males. "Both of you are monstrosities of nature with your abomination of vertical prowess, thank you very much!" She stuck her tongue out at the both of them. In truth, she wasn't too touchy about her height. It just was a minor inconvenience at times, and nothing else. She was a good two heads shorter than France was, maybe even more, and Prussia had a good handful of inches above her too. So France would pick on Prussia about his height, Prussia would pick on her, and she would kick both of them in the shins to show them who was boss. It was an agreeable pecking order. Spain perked up when Prussia mentioned of crashing at Germany's house for drinks instead of going elsewhere in Denmark. France seemed to agree as well, mentioning about train tickets. "Why not both?" Spain asked, raising an eyebrow. "We can buy one or two drinks here, annoy everyone else, and then bail ship and set sail to Germany's? That way we can cover everything on the to-do list and not worry about waking up early tomorrow!" She flashed a bright grin at them. "And I think I remember seeing a place down the road there that looked promising. The others might follow or already be there since it's so close." --- Vatican blinked owlishly at South as she raised a hand, her fixing his hair distracting him for a moment from the others remaining in the room. He hadn't want to come to this place, North almost suffocating him by stuffing the hoodie over his head while dragging him out the door. The charcoal-haired man just wanted to bake today, not bring his stress levels up and his anxiety shoving his heart into his throat. The only reason why he spoke up at all during the meeting was because he wanted them to know that their citizens did not want to fight... and he didn't want to see South or North Italy be dragged into another meaningless scuffle. It physically and emotionally hurt him seeing them injured, but he would never tell them that. And then North just...abandoned him here, with all these unknown people. He didn't blame him, Northern Italy was always wandering off and forgetting things, but still... he was scared, and had immediately turned to South as his only lifeline from completely falling into a panicked mess. The shorter Italian male stared at South as a rare smile cracked her typical grumpy features, her words calming the churning waves of fleeting panic in his gut. Mostly. Still, the corner of his lips quirked upward for a moment, although his face was still very pale and his eyes wide and nervous as he gave the woman a tiny, jerky nod. No, South wouldn't leave him here. Gently he turned his fingers around the seat of his chair, curling his legs closer to him as if to make himself a smaller target to notice. He watched with slight curiosity as South dug into her hand, pulling out a container with homemade ravioli. The sight of food made Vatican wonder when was the last time he had eaten. He never had been one to eat regularly, much to North's dismay. Food just didn't agree with him on most days, that's all, so there was little point in trying to force it down, and naturally he would end up forgetting to eat for days at a time. His dark gray eyes flickered from South, to the offered fork, and to the dish that South just opened. The smell of the food made his stomach snarl like a caged tiger, causing his pale cheeks to flush lightly as he gingerly reached forward and picked up the extra fork with thin fingers. "T-thank you," he murmured softly as he carefully speard a piece, using his free hand to hover underneath the fork's precious cargo in case it fell off and brought it to his mouth. South really did make great food... --- Germany had pulled his arm out of North's grasp- the Italian frowned at that, his brow wrinkling just slightly. He brushed off his concern with a small smile. Germany just didn't like such close touches, that's all. "You're such a busybody, Germany, don't you take time off to relax?" Italy smiled at the German. He was always working so hard, never taking a break, or a vacation. Or sleep in for that matter. He was going to work himself into the ground at this rate! The Italian's smile widened at Germany's offer and bobbed his head in agreement. "Of course! I can even cook you something if you want!" Heaven forbid if he was going to let Germany eat another one of those sausage thingies while Northern Italy was there! He needed something better, like lasagna! Oh! He could cut up the sausage things and put it into the lasagna! That would be good!