Antonio wandered around the tomato field, pulling up only the ripest ones. Wiping his brow, he sat down for a minute. The sun was blazing outside, and he'd have preferred to stay inside. But, as he knew all too well, tomatoes don't pick themselves. He'd have preferred to have Romano helping him, but the small, angry Italian spent all his time eating tomatoes like apples, and calling him "Bastardo Spain". Sighing, he picked a tomato up out of the basket and rolled it around in the palm of his hand. Sometimes he wished he could just be a human, not having to worry about national debt or trade embargoes. But the duty of a country was a hard one, and one he was forced to bear. Nothing he could do about it. He turned the tomato slightly to the side, examining a bruised spot. I wonder if this'll bring down the price... he thought, gently prodding it with his fingertip. He was just about to put it back, when he saw the reflection of a small boy in the tomato. Turning around, he came face-to-face with none other than a rather sunburnt Romano, with tears trickling across his cheeks.
"Eh? Romano, what's wrong?" Spain asked, pushing the giant hat that sat on Romano's head up a bit. "Did you get lost again?"
"No WAY you bastardo!" Romano countered, yelling at the top of his lungs. "Leave me alone, I'm fine!"
"But Romano, you're crying..."
"It's sweat! It's damn hot out here, it's sweat!"
"... Romano..." Spain sighed, wondering if Romano would continue to refuse his help for the rest of his life. The tsundere italian boy wiped his eyes and knocked the hat off of his head. His curl had made itself wavy and pointy, like it did when he was angry or in pain.
"Eh? Romano, does something hurt?" Spain asked, suddenly concerned.
"No! Go away, Spain, I can handle this myself!"
"Handle WHAT yourself?" Spain looked him over, unable to find anything wrong. Then, he noticed that Romano was sitting on one of his feet, and the other was sticking out to the side.
"Ahh, did you twist your ankle, Lovino?"
"ANTONIO YOU BASTARDO I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!" Romano shrieked, fresh tears trailing down his sunburned cheeks. "I'M ROMANO! ROMANO ROMANO ROMANO! AND THAT'S MY NAME! ROMANO!" The last 'Romano' came out as more of a hiss, because Spain had put his finger on Romano's ankle to test and see if it was injured.
"Did that hurt, Lovino?"
"N-no! Go away!"
"How much did it hurt?"
"Not at all! Fuck off!"
"Romano..." Spain sighed, realizing that this was going nowhere. He picked him up and started walking towards the house.
"Hey! Put me down Antonio! You Bastardooo!" Romano screamed, thrashing around in Spain's arms, constantly trying to kick and punch him so that he would let go.
"Romano, calm down. You might fall out of my arms and hurt yourself." Spain chided, wrapping his arms around him tighter. Romano growled and sniffed, wincing as his ankle got bumped.
"When we get back to the house, I'll take a look at your leg, okay? But first, let's get you a nice, relaxing, hot bath, and then do something about your sunburns. You smell like mud, my little tomato."
"I hate you Antonio."
"Love you too, Lovi."
=End=
(A/N: Drabble Drabble Drabble Drabble... Sorry. This is a Drabble that I wrote to test my Spamano writing skills. Also, I'm testing my ability to write a story based off of a picture. The picture I'm basing it off of is the story image, of course. Tell me what you think! I need to know if I made one of them OOC, or if the story's just BAD, or whatever.)