Hi everyone! This is my first story written in quite awhile, but I always love some help making my stories better! Also I, unfortunately, do not own this wonderful franchise, any of it's characters or anything else. Hope you enjoy!

Engaged, or Not

'That damn tomato bastard! He fucking cancelled our plans again!' Romano sat on the couch him and Spain had shared for years, staring at his phone trying not to let the tears fall.

It had been 6 years since Romano accepted his feeling for the Spaniard. It took awhile for him to say it out loud, but for 5 years now him and Spain had been dating. A year and a half after that until they moved in together. Skip ahead a couple years until Spain had proposed to his "precious Roma" and you come to the present day. Romano now laying on the couch, tears flowing down his cheek, and his phone tossed on the floor in front of him.

'Stupid bastard. It's been two fucking years already and we don't even have a fucking date picked! Maybe he doesn't actually want to get married. He just proposed because he felt pressured too. Maybe he is already sick of me. I don't see how he couldn't be. I'm fucking useless. Of course he doesn't love me, how could anyone love me of all people. But if that is true why is Spain still here? If he doesn't want me why wont he just end it already? I'm sick of this.'

"Ah mon ami! Weren't you supposed to be back to that adorable Italian of yours by now?" Spain looked up to see France staring back at him. "I already sent him a message saying I would be late! I told him I would make it up to him tomorrow. But right now it is your birthday so let the party go on mi amigo!" France gave a slightly worried look to his friend, but said nothing.

He had noticed how lately Romano had been around less often, but he had not said anything. 'Surely Espagne would notice if Romano was upset. They have known each other for years!' and with that thought France grabbed another glass of wine and went over to where Spain and Prussia were chatting away.

Romano woke up at 4 the next morning still lying on the couch. He looked around for any sign his lover had been home, but saw none. He went to the bedroom and still saw no sign of him. "He..he never came home." Tears once again started to form in the Italian's eyes. 'I have to call him!' with that though he quickly grabbed his phone off the floor and hit Spain's speed dial. No answer. Romano tried again and again. No answer.

"That bastard! I'm going to kill him if he's not already dead!" he screamed, hearing the deafening silence of the house as it echoed back. Tears falling off of his cheeks now due to panic.

Giving up on calling Spain himself, Romano called France hoping he would at least know if Spain was alright. Right when he was about to give up on that he finally got an answer.

"Bonjour? C'est France, can I help you?" Romano could tell the French man was anything but sober, but he still seemed to be able to converse surprisingly.

"Oi! French bastard! Is the fucking tomato bastard there?" He tried to cover the fact that he was crying, but he knew he was failing.

"Oui, Espagne est ici. He and Prussia both passed out a few hours. I was about to when you called. He told me he sent you a message earlier saying he was staying here. Did you not get it?"

"No I didn't fucking get it you bastard! Just tell him when he wakes up that I'm going to my brothers house for a few days so I won't be here when he gets back!" With that he hung up and laid back down, still crying.