#WAIT. STOP THE PRESSES. it was spain guy. He has to die (already dead)
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autistickfigure · 4 months ago
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(head in hands) La Borinqueña before and after america (Spain actually.)
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theghostlytoastwriter · 7 years ago
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Letter (Spamano)
Country names are used!
Warning for Angst, character death, and cheating!
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The small house that was in the City was practically silent, excluding the Disney movie playing. Spain and Romano were bundled up, as it was an extremely chilly night. It was to be expected in November, but it felt like it was already December! Romano had long fallen asleep, the smaller male practically attached himself to Spain for “warmth.” The Spaniard was stroking the smaller one’s auburn colored hair, being careful to avoid the curl that strangely struck out from him. The Spaniard sighed. Oh how life was perfect. Sure, people had their ups and downs, but for him, it was nearly perfect.
The light from the television was perfectly glowing against the smaller one’s face. Romano seemed at peace. Like he came to terms that everything was right in the world. He maybe even looked, dare Spain say it, happy? One thing for sure is that Romano looked at peace. And that Romano was adorable in his sleep, and awake too. The television soon turned off, due to inactivity. After his eyes got adjusted to the dark, he looked at Romano again. Even in slight darkness, Romano was still beautiful. To be honest, in any type of light, Spain thought Romano was beautiful.
Spain snuggled closer to his lover and closed his eyes. The chilly air now felt more comforting, welcoming even. The bundles of blankets on them felt extra cuddly, perfect for night like this. And Soon enough, he fell to peaceful sleep, the Spaniard’s final thoughts being that he truly was lucky to have met Romano.
Romano woke up, and right into Spain’s green eyes staring at him. “Bastard! What the hell! You stalker!” The Spaniard let out a dramatic gasp. “Roma! You wound me! I would never!” Romano sighed. “Now get up. I have to go to work.” Even though they were literal personifications of countries, most countries had to work. They had to get food somehow! Romano’s schedule was Monday through Friday, while Spain’s was Tuesday through Saturday. Sunday was the only day they got together. But now, it was the dreaded Monday, so Romano had to work.
“Alright Roma, I’m getting up! But I’m going to cook breakfast today, since you always spent so much time to take a bath on Mondays!” Romano had to agree with that last part. “All right fucking bastard. But no weird Spanish stuff[1], okay?” Spain only grinned and nodded. The two got up and headed to different bathrooms. Luckily, the house they owned had two different bathrooms, so they never had to share a bathroom. If they did, well, let’s just say that Romano’s legs would start hurting, And not because he was simply standing.
Romano opened the door and closed it behind him, making sure to lock the door in the process. He then stripped away his clothing and turned the bath. He waited till it was full and then stepped in. The Italian felt ease in there, like everything wrong had gone away. Romano sighed. If only the world could feel this relaxing, Oh well. After what felt like mere minutes, he started actually cleansing himself. Hey, he wanted some time to relax! After a while, he finally got up. He fired himself off and stepped out of the bathtub, making sure to get rid of the plug in the drain too. He looked around and finally found some spare clothes in a cabinet.
Romano out some clothes, making sure he looked good in the mirror. Let’s say, he did look quite good. In his opinion anyways. He opened the bathroom door, and got greeted by the sweet scent of food. It smelled like, well, pancakes. He hadn’t smelled one for what felt like ages. Romano let the scent lead him to the kitchen, where Spain was cooking. The Italian sat down before speaking. “How the fuck were you able to take a bath so fast?” Spain turned around, not hearing the auburn had entered the kitchen. “Oh! Roma! Finally, you took more than half an hour in the bathroom!” The smaller male stayed silent, not believing what the other male had just said. “I-It felt like fucking minutes! You m-must be lying!” He sputtered out.
Romano couldn’t believe he spent that much time in the bathroom. “Nope! Here, I just finished the batch!” Spain handed Romano some pancakes on a plate, along with some that looked perfectly well done. The Italian shoved some food in his mouth, along with some syrup too. What? He was hungry. And he needed to get to work soon. Soon, in a gaping time of five minutes, he finished eating the pancakes. He grabbed some orange juice to wash it all down. Spain chuckled at the sight. “Wow, you were really hungry!” Romano let out a fake laugh. “Ha Ha, real fucking funny. Now, make sure not to tell people what happened yesterday! Okay?!”
Spain laughed, and had a mischievous smile on his face. “You’re going to have to give me a kiss~!” Romano sputtered out a couple words before responding. “What?! No fucking Way!” “I’ll call Ita and tell him!” Romano looked at the Spanish man with anger clearly seen in his eyes. “You’re fucking bluffing!” Spain grinned, promptly pulled out his phone, and touched Italy’s contact. Romano was surprised before gathering his composure. “You’re just fucking bluffing again!” The Spaniard laughed, clicked the call button, and put the phone on speaker.
“Don’t!” The southern Italian reached of the phone, but the taller man had a clear advantage for obvious reasons. Spain was tall, he was short. “Fuck, Okay, Okay! I’ll fucking do it!” Spain pressed the end call button, and looked at Romano with a smile. The auburn haired male huffed in annoyance, went on his tip toes, and kissed the guy. The taller man grinned ear to ear. “Now do you know where my stupid-ass suitcase is? It had documents I need to show to some bastards at work.” “It’s in front of the door!” “What door?!” “The front door!”
Romano ran over there, and sure enough, the suitcase was there. “Why the hell is my suitcase here?” Spain walked next to him and shrugged. “Anyways, you need to go to work! It’s almost ten am!” The Italian said goodbye and left, but not before getting smothered with kisses by a certain Spaniard. One day, he was going to die from getting kissed so much, he knew it.
Work then flew by him surprisingly. Romano’s day always seemed to last by a century. That’s what happens in a box office. But this particular day, it went extremely fast. It felt like only a minute passed. Maybe because he hated the job? Maybe because he wanted to see Spain? Scratch that Last part, there’s no way in hell Romano would ever admit that last part. During the walk back to the house, he started wondering why Spain was so nice? Now that he thought about it, that day, Spain was extremely nice. From the breakfast to the shower. It was, well, weird. And why did Spain want the kiss? He knew that the guy loved kisses and would often do stuff like that, but never truly in a way like that. To go all the way to calling his fratello[2]? It had never happened.
Soon enough, Romano got into the house. His work was relatively a small walk from the tiny house, so he never needed to use a car. He entered the home, which was oddly silent. No television, no sink, no shower, nothing. Just dead silent. The only sound he could hear was his footsteps and his breath. Where was Spain? The Italian walked around, and ended at the bedroom that Spain and he shared. Romano opened the door slowly, not wanting to make too much noise. There, on the bed, was a sitting Spaniard. While Holding a letter in his hands, Spain looked up at him, with a bittersweet smile. Romano was confused.
What was going on?
“Spain, tell me right now, what’s fucking going on.” It would be a lie to say he wasn’t scared, he kind of was. This is the saddest he’s ever seen Spain. “Tell me right fucking now what’s happening!” The Spaniard stood up, almost in a trance, and headed towards him. About one foot away from him, he stopped. He handed the letter to the auburn haired male, and looked at him straight in the eye. “Read it.” Romano was slightly scared, so he took the letter and read it. He only got halfway before he burst into tears. The letter read some words he thought he would never read.
Dear Romano.
I love you, I love you so much. You know that, right? I hope you do. Look, I love you, but I have to tell you this. A level of trust in a way. About two weeks ago I, Well, put my mouth on another man’s. I moaned out another man’s name. I was drunk, I didn’t know what was happening until it was too late. I’m so, so, so sorry. If I could write down how bad I feel, how much I want to Apologise, this letter would be endless. I’m just, so sorry.  I had put my mouth on another, I had sex with another.
Romano only read up to that part Before he started crying. Crying was an understatement. He was sobbing. He just, could understand. He was heartbroken. Why? Why had Spain gone and went with another? They didnt just kiss. They had sex with each other. Did he even matter anymore? Oh god, why, why, why? Why would this happen? The day was great, oh why? Romano wanted this to be a nightmare, but he couldn’t wake up if it was one. Oh who was he kidding, this was no nightmare.
This was the true horrible, ugly truth.
“Look, Romano, I’m so sorry. I didnt know what was happening and-” The Italian cut him off. “You didn’t fucking know? You didn’t fucking know?! You cheated on me with another man, you think I’ll be okay with that?!” “I’m sorry! I didn’t know and I just…” “You had the fucking choice to not go out! And you’ve been keeping this from me for Two shitty weeks?!” “I’m sorry! It’s hard tell someone when this happened, you know?!” “Well I’ve never had to, since I don’t fucking cheat on other people!” “Well, it’s not like you can do anything anyways!” The two argued more and more, and at this point, both were crying. The more they argued, the more they raised their voices at each other. Until one of them snapped.
“God, it’s like you don’t fucking are for me at all!” “Well damn, I do freaking care about you! Remember who took you from Austria? Who gave you a roof to live under? Food? Remember? That was me! God, I should’ve traded you for Italy a long time ago!” There was no response from the other. There was silence. And then, just sobbing. No words, just sobbing.
Romano sobbed louder than ever before, god, he was heartbroken. Sad. Angry. He felt, betrayed. He looked into Spain’s green eyes, which were filled with anger, one last time before fleeing the room, and after deciding, the house. He didn’t know where he we going, he didn’t need to. All he needed to do is to get away get away from him. To get away from Spain. He didn’t want to talk at him, look at him, or even think about him. Romano wanted someone to lean on right now, it used to be Spain, but now, there’s no one.
Hours passed. Romano was so, so tired. But he didn’t know where to go. His fratello was five hours away from the house, and he didn’t even know where he was. The Italian tried to retrace his steps, but he just got more lost. He felt alone. It was as someone had punched him in the gut. Actually, as if someone had beaten him up and left him to die. The moon shone brightly at him, like it was mocking him. Romano crossed the road, and only got halfway before he got there when he heard a scream. He whipped his head and saw a car, and that was the last thing he saw.
It had been weeks before Spain decided to call Italy. He had been trying to call Romano, but to no avail. If he wasn’t sorry before, he was definitely sorry now. The phone ringed a couple times before he heard some shuffling. “Ciao[3] Spain! Ve~ How are you?” “Good, and what about you?” “Mostly good!” “Hey, do you know where Romano is?” There was dead silence. “You didn’t know?” Italy said, with his voice quivering. “He was in a car accident week ago. I-I thought you knew.” The two stayed silent. “Ah, well, thanks for telling me.” Spain hanged up and threw his phone, not caring if he broke it or not. Damnit, why? Why world, why?! What the hell did Romano do?! Why?! Spain sobbed until he had no more tears. He screamed and wallowed in sadness until he had no voice. It was all so unfair. If he only hadn’t given the letter, everything would’ve been well. Oh, god.
It was all his fault, wasn’t it?
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So, for the footnotes! [1] the weird Spanish stuff. Spaniards can add a bunch of spices to regular food, which can make the food worse. It depends on if you like it simple or not. [2] fratello. Italian for brother. Please tell me if I’m wrong! [3] Ciao. Hello in Italian. Please tell me if I’m wrong!
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