Romano looked up from his sweeping when he heard the front door shut with a thud. Sunlight streamed in through the large windows, bathing the room in a late afternoon glow. It washed over Spain's dark skin, highlighting the new scars and deep circles under his eyes. Romano quickly went back to his work, avoiding his boss' eyes.
Spain ran a hand over his face with a deep sigh and tossed his captain's hat on the hall table. He hung up the dark red and black coat and kicked off his boots. Romano heard his footsteps retreat down the hall and the thud of another door being thrown shut. The soft sound of bed springs coiling, then silence. Romano continued to sweep.
After a few long minutes, Romano quietly put the broom and dustpan away. This was his secret routine. Gingerly, he crept down the hall to Spain's door. Standing on tiptoe, he turned the knob and slowly peeked inside. As always after a battle, Spain lay sprawled on his bed in a deep sleep. Romano closed the door quickly behind him and crossed the room to one side of the bed. He pulled himself up the covers and sat near Spain's head.
Romano watched for a few moments, taking in the sight of Spain's ruffled, messy hair. His lips were parted slightly in his sleep. His chest moved steadily with each peaceful breath. His eyelids twitched every few moments, telling Romano that he was dreaming.
This happened every time. Every time his leaders called Spain to the front lines he'd come home and do just this. Sleep. Sometimes, which scared Romano, he wouldn't wake up for days. He knew the older country deserved it. After a taxing battle, rest seemed the only right thing to do.
Still, Romano worried for Boss Spain's health. The old pirate needed a break.
As he sat watching Spain, he could physically see the rings under his eyes grow lighter and lighter, turning to their original coppery brown color. A smile twitched on Romano's lips for half a second. Gently, he toyed with a lock of hair that had fallen over Spain's eyes. Romano reminded himself that he was only here to make sure the older country was safe. At least, that's what his head believed. But his heart wasn't so easily fooled.
Hours slipped by, and soon the sun dipped behind the mountains. Spain still hadn't woken. Romano figured that this battle had been worse than the last few. He'd checked Spain's jacket and sword and found them both dark with crimson. Spain hardly ever used his sword unless absolutely necessary. Romano's heart ached.
When it was well into the night, Romano thought it best to leave Spain in peace. He told himself Spain would be fine. Just like any other battle. But still, he couldn't shake the feeling of worry. At last, when Romano's own eyes began to slide traitorously shut, did he decide it was high time he went to bed too. He took one last look at Spain's peaceful face, framed by the white moonlight. Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and gently kissed Spain's forehead. With a huff he slid off the bed and ran out the door, barely hearing Spain's sleepy chuckle.