SpaMano- Mi Tomate
Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a.k.a. the country of Spain wasn't his normal self on this day. On this day of all days, he was contemplating a certain predicament he was in as of now with a certain Italian. Southern Italy, to be exact, or better known as Romano to the rest of the countries. Earlier today, the two of them had just been out in Spain's garden picking tomatoes when he had made a simple observation of Romano's face (being beet red from the sun) looking like a nice ripe tomato. Then came the yelling, the cursing and the screaming at the Spaniard and ultimately ended in the result of the angry older Italian brother slamming the glass sliding door leading into the kitchen and storming away to his room. That was what lead Antonio to be in the position he was now. Sitting at the kitchen table alone, with his hands clasped near his mouth, leaning on his elbows, brows drawn together and a small wicker basket of freshly ripened and picked tomatoes sitting forgotten on the table in front of him.
'Why am I still sticking around Romano?' Spain thought bitterly. Thinking back to all the times where the Italian had insulted him, treated him cruelly and blamed everything bad that happened on him. Romano had never really shown him how much he had appreciated all he had done for him and yet Spain still trailed after him like a little stray puppy. 'Oh right… because I love him…' Spain smiled softly. Romano had been an ass to him most of the time, but he did have his moments of showing his sweeter side. Sometimes, when it was late at night and Spain would be pretending to sleeping, Romano would lean over from his side of the bed and kiss Spain on the cheek, muttering something sounding like, "I love you, idiota". Even when they were stuck inside when the weather was particularly dangerous, they would just curl up together on the couch and watch some TV or a movie that was playing. Lovino would lean his head on Antonio's shoulder and sometimes fall asleep, while Spain patted his hair and kept his arm around him protectively.
All of those awful moments as well where Spain had his (rather rare) depressed days, Lovino would come in his room and just try to comfort him however he could. Kisses on his forehead, stroking his hair or even just lying down beside Spain on his bed, he would show Spain some affection in his time of vulnerability. Still smiling, Antonio looked up towards the stairs, where Romano's room lay at the top with the door still closed. He turned towards the small basket still on the table and picked one of the ripest, juiciest and biggest tomatos he could find and ascended up the stairs, thinking just how cute Romano still looked as his little tomate after all these years.