Xxx
'Why can't you be more like him?'
'Why are you so lazy?'
'You're ok but he is better.'
'I love you but I love him more.'
'You are nothing but your brother's shadow.'
He had heard those phrases all-many times actually-and they all hurt. Just like the knife he was using to paint a beautiful scarlet red across his wrist. But the irony was that those words hurt more than the actual cuts across both of his arms. He smiled sadly at his wrists. Once perfect with out a single mark. Now filled with hideous cuts and the ever so beautiful color red. He loved that color so much. It was the color that made up one third of his and his brother's flag. The color of his favorite food. Honestly it was the most beautiful color in his eyes.
He had stayed strong passed all the times all the other people had said those words to him. But now the person that was to love him above his brother had said those words. Those few words broke him. He hated how cliché it sounded but it was true. After every one who tried one had finally succeeded. One person had broken him.
'I guess this world got what it wanted.'
He thought those words over and over again. This world had finally figured out how to break him. To make him want to crawl in a hole and just get swallowed by the earth.
He just kept on replaying the words everyone would tell him. One cut across his arms for one time some one said those to him. Those words that slightly chipped away at him. Finally one giant gash across his arm to resemble -he hoped- the last time he would hear those words.
The last time he would hear them he smiled. The last time was the worst of them all. After all it was what had broken him.
XxX
Spain had come home to a mess of a house once again. He sighed trying to keep his anger down. He had already had a horrible day, now this? "Lovino why is the house a mess?" he asked the small Italian. "I don't know? It was like that?" he said lazily from the couch where he was peacefully nibbling at a tomato. "NO IT WASN'T" he yelled at his lover. "Damn I wish I got your brother…" he muttered to himself. Even as quiet as it was said Romano still heard it. "I don't know go ask him because I'm done with your bullshit! You fucking bastard!" Romano yelled while running out. He didn't stop or look back. He didn't stop for the Spaniard calling for him. He didn't stop when his legs were giving out from running so much. He didn't stop when Spain tackled him. He just moved out of the way and continued his running.
XxX
He laughed at the pathetic life he lived. It wasn't like the few laughs he let pass his lips when someone said something humorous. No this laugh was bitter and broken.
His blood now tainted everything around him. The floor, his clothes, his arms, anything in its path was tainted with the beautiful crimson color of Romano Vargas' blood. "Hah what a beautiful color. For once in your pathetic life you taint something beautifully.' He said to no one.
He began to feel drowsy from all the blood he was losing. He knew it was death calling him. It was so inviting to him. He smiled ruefully once more.
'I'm always after you.
In everyone's hearts.
I'm always after you my beloved brother.
I still love you.
Even I cant hate you, the one you indirectly took everything from.'
With those last thoughts he fell into death's embrace.
A/N: Sorry felt like writing something tragic. But anyway I don't own Hetalia. Oh! And should I write a sequel? Baii ~ :]