AN: Hey I'm back with another Spamano one-shot! I'm not all that proud of this one, but I thought it was cute and shareable nonetheless. Anyway, I hope you enjoy~
Edit: I read through the fic and fixed up some mistakes! I hope I got everything though ;^;
I shouldn't have been surprised that Antonio announced he was going to go back to sea. It was something he enjoyed doing, for he was the mighty Spanish Empire that had influence and power throughout the world. He loved the smell and feel of the ocean
mist and by the glint in his eyes, he couldn't wait to get back on ship.
Again, I shouldn't have been surprised.
However, I still yelled and cursed, saying that he should just stay in Spain for a little while longer. Yes, I, Romano, pleaded with Antonio. I couldn't take it; watching him leave to be gone for months. Every time it broke my heart.
What if he got captured by that bastard England? Or what happened if he never returned?
I shared my fears with Belgium one night. I explained my fears for Antonio's safety, but all she could do was hold me because she felt the same. Couldn't Spain realize just how much we worried about him? How we hated seeing him come home since his eyes
held the despair of war and that his body bared scars and wounds? Sometimes I wonder if he did notice, but didn't care.
Antonio held me in a crushing embrace, and I reflexively tried to escape. He told me the same spiel of how he was going to come home and that he would stay longer next time.
But things started to get weird. I was back in modern time Spain within Antonio's house. I tried to call out to him, but nothing was coming out of my mouth. What the hell? I tried again, a bit more anxious, but the result was the same. Then the walls
started to get closer and closer. I started to hyperventilate.
Then my eyes opened to the sight of Antonio peering over me. I looked around and saw that I was in Spain's bedroom.
"Lovi?" I turned to worried green eyes, my breath still uneven. "Mi amor, why are you crying?" Before I could respond he pulled me close and ran his fingers through my hair.
Jesus Christ. I had one of those dreams again.
When things get stressful I always end up having nightmares. They're mostly about losing people, or I relive a war.
Most of them have been about Antonio. Each time he never came home, and each time I would wake up in a cold sweat, but calm down as quickly as I could to make sure Antonio didn't wake up.
I could feel Antonio's arms tighten around me just a bit, and when he spoke his voice was low with sorrow. "You had a nightmare, didn't you? Did… Did you dream about your history?"
Most countries - if not all - tend to remember their worst moments, and Spain was no exception. There have been some nights in a row where I've woken up to my lover yelling out in his sleep or sobbing. It always broke my heart and ended up wondering how
Antonio dealt with it when I wasn't around.
I tried to stop my sobs as I shook my head. Antonio hadn't said anything, deciding to give me time to calm down somewhat. After minutes ofthe night went by, I eventually got my breathing back to normal and my voice was as level as it could get considering
the circumstances.
"It wasn't so much history," I began. Hesitation was obvious in my voice, so Antonio coaxed me into talking more by kissing my forehead. "I dreamt you left to go on one of your stupid conquests. B-but then I was here in the house and you weren't home.
I tried calling out to you but you never answered and then the realization hit that you never came home and I panicked." I started to get worked up again. The only way I calmed down was when Spain kept shushing me and kissing every inch of my face.
Damn that bastard for always knowing what to do.
"Lovi, mi querido, I'm sorry that you dreamt that, but I promise I'll never leave you forever," he said with confidence and certainty. But how did he know that?
I'm not exactly the most likeable or nice person.
In fact, I'm a dick and a mess.
Antonio felt me stiffen which made him recite the same speech I've heard a thousand times about how he wasn't going to leave and that he loves me more than anyone or anything. I was getting frustrated. Hearing someone say these things to me always feels
like bullshit.
I interrupted him with a loud "bastardo!" and my eyes started to water again. "How do you know that? How do you know that you'll realize that one day I'm not good enough? And that you want me out of your house because you can't stand me?" I pushed away
from him as I started to cry again.
"How are you so patient with me? I treat you like shit, Antonio! I make you do things for me all the fucking time and I always yell at you, even if I am grateful. I don't understand why you let me stick around when all I do is push you away! Why do you
show me off to your damn friends too? France and Prussiaactually have a lick of sense because they always tell you just how fucking terrible I am to you. Antonio why-"
"Romano!"
Oh shit. He never called me by my nation name unless he was angry at me. Fuck fuck fuck.
My partner sighed and reached over to wipe away my abundance of tears. "Lovino, I can't believe you would think those things." He actually sounded hurt. Like, it injured him to hear me degrade myself. "I… Please listen to me. I promise you, I stick around
because I love you, Lovi. I knew from the moment I took you in that it would take a long time for you to open up to me. But hell, I did it anyway because I knew there was someone amazing underneath all of the yelling. Sweetheart, you are a rare gem.
You are so passionate and you feel so much. I figured out centuries ago that the faḉade you have is a barrier that helps you not care so much and a defense mechanism, but oh Lovi, I know how much you care."
Antonio smiled softly at me, and I couldn't help but smile slightly in return.
"Other people don't think bad of you either. I mean, Lovi, a lot of people get put off from your sour attitude." I flinched at that. "Buuuuut, people who are close to us understand that you can't help it. A lot of people love you and do care about you."
The only thing I could think of to say was thank you. How lame is that? Antonio - my wonderful boyfriend - just told me the sweetest things and all I can think of is thank you?! Get your shit together, Lovino.
Instead, I hid my face in his neck. He immediately understood, and pulled the blankets up to our shoulders. His breathing started to slow down, but I could tell he was still awake from his hand still rubbing small circles into my back.
"Toni?" There was a hum of acknowledgement so I continued on. "Ti amo," I said quickly before kissing his cheek. My face flared up from the random act of affection.
There was a giggle before Antonio pressed his lips to mine. I was about to deepen it but he suddenly pulled away, that bastard. "Te amo mucho, mi querido!"
"Yeah yeah," I huffed as I put my hand over his mouth. "Now shut up and fall asleep."
"Okay Lovi!" Antonio kissed my cheek one last time before settling back down onto the bed. I didn't fall asleep right away but kept repeating the words Antonio had said to me earlier.
I don't understand how he manages me, but Jesus Christ am I lucky.
