Ok.. Look... As a writer I feel I need to say this. The relationship between Belgium and Spain isn't all pretty. He taxed her almost to death, treated her like a slave, and when his war fell apart, Austria swooped in and took control over her. This is also a shout out to all the France's out there... Thanks for the support in her independence!

I wrote this FF for one reason if you're wondering... My friend asked me if I would write a happy FF that involved the two.

BTW:I don't own Hetalia or any of it's characters, writting FF's is a hobby...

Spain slumped on his black leather couch, resting his head on the back of the cold material. He was feeling lonely yet again. It was the third time this month his heart was filled with tears. It's not something he would ever admit too any of his friends.

He kept this secret to himself. Antonio choked down a building sob and batted his green eyes clear of any tears threatening to spill. The air felt heavy and the smell of red wine in the air helped dull his senses so the pain wouldn't feel so sharp. He chewed on his lower lip and lifted his head slowly. The nation needed another gulp of sweet, red wine.

The living room was dark and with only the glow of the tv to guide him to his fresh bottle. He had some music channel on, with a man singing about his lover leaving him, and he wasn't over them yet. Spain's eyes bitterly looked at the television screen. Antonio's bitterness got the best of him. He hated the song and it's very saddening tune.

It reminded him of the situation he was in and that was a reality he faced every morning he woke up to an empty bed. Spain would run his calloused fingers and palms slowly across the white, satin sheets. His cheek rested upon the matching pillow. Some days he would day dream about her being there other days he's even called lovers accidentally by her name.

The man's green eye's darkened as the stared at the ceiling. The Spaniard needed her. It was a fact that he lived with every day. He would do anything to gently caress her back and shoulders softly; to see her sleep next to him. Spain wanted nothing more than to nuzzle his nose into her locks of golden hair.

His heart sank further dragging his feelings with it. His relationships in the past never worked out, the root of the problem was anyone whom he ever dated wasn't the person he wanted. She was everything to him. A hard lump developed in his throat and he did his best to choke it down.

"Belgium", he groaned loudly, scooping up the bottle of wine he had just opened. Spain welcomed the sweet nectar of alcohol trickling down his throat as he tilted his head back. The burning sensation from the lump, dissipated as he drank the fourth bottle of wine that evening.

Antonio ran a rough hand down his face and let out a long jagged breath. God, there wasn't a day that went by he didn't think of her. The male nation stared up at the white ceiling again, it looked blue from the glow of the music video. He swallowed another lump building in his throat.

He loved her. To be honest with himself, Spain never stopped loving her, he never once hesitated to think of her. He had made his mistakes and he had to live with them. Antonio knew he would never have a chance again with her. He used her, starved her, worked her to the bone, all to support his wars, his expeditions, then when everything fell apart Austria took her away, just like that.

Bel never once looked back. It was the last he ever got to look into her beautiful leaf green eyes of hers. Spain remembered that day. He had to grab her arm and turn her around, forcing her to look at him. The nation remembered, he reached out to touch her sun kissed cheeks but she recoiled with a look of disgust in her eyes.

He even recalled the woman pulling her arm back from him, breaking his grip. Spain was so taken back by her own strength she had gained from working in his fields and stables. He was speechless. Antonio reached for the empty space she left as she walked away, her tattered, filthy, green maid's skirt disappearing into Austria's cart was the last he saw of her.

Years later he's tried to talk to her over and over again. Bel has ignored him, stepped around him, but once he could have sworn she tried to talk to him; only to have her brother usher her away before she could say anything. The petite blond waved bye gently as she was being pushed softly between the shoulder blades. At that moment, he had a tiny glimmer of hope. Since that day 10 years ago, he hasn't stopped thinking of ways to talk to her.