Hey guys! I'm back from my trip overseas and it was AWESOME!
Of course, there were a few mishaps that happened, but I might write something out of them just to get my writing juices flowing again. Hahaha! Hope you guys had an awesome time while I was away, and to anybody who just completed their HSC's or final exams - good on you lot!
Anyway, I'm still working on a lot of things lately, but now that I'm rested up; have a Spain x Vietnam story!
This story in particular is an AU where Antonio and Lien are good friends. The bride is just a faceless OC since I don't mind any of the nations suitable for a despicable role. I don't even know how I ended up writing this story in the first place, and now that I think about it; the title seems kind of random... (why can I not make up good titles for my fic's?!)
Anyway, enough with my rambling; I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Hetalia.
"Where is she?"
"She was supposed to come in already…"
"Do you think something happened to her?"
"What's going on?"
These were only some of the words that Lien was able to catch from her spot on the second pew from the front. She paid no more attention to the further murmuring. Instead, her attention fixed onto the man – the groom – who was standing right at the front of the church, right close to the altar where the priest stood, clad in a dashing, white tuxedo, waiting.
The groom's tanned face pulled into a worried expression, his emerald green eyes momentarily lost that excited sparkle twinkle that shimmered with a playful, dancing flame, and the bright beam that had been on his face just a minute before had begun to fade away.
"Where is she?" questioned Elizaveta in an urgent whisper to the other bridesmaids from the front pew right in front of Lien. "She was supposed to be here five minutes ago!"
"I don't know," Emma said in an equally worried tone.
Lien could see that Antonio was still waiting. His eyes weren't twinkling as much as they were before, but they still shone with hope that his bride would eventually step out in her extravagant and rather poofy white dress with a big smile on her face from behind her glossy lips.
'She won't come,' Lien thought to herself. 'She won't…'
The minutes soon became hours, yet Antonio's bride still hadn't appeared. It was already becoming dark; the sky was painted with shades of light blue, gold, orange and pink as the sun began to set down the horizon. At this point, many of the guests already left, tired of waiting and certain that there was no longer a wedding since the bride was a no-show.
The only people who didn't leave at this point were Antonio's friends.
"Poor, poor Antoine," said Francis sadly as he watched one of his best friends continue to wait at the altar.
"I know," sighed Emma as she leaned onto Arthur's arm. "I can't believe she didn't come…"
"Indeed," agreed the British man as he took his arm off from underneath the Belgian woman and wrapped it around her shoulders instead. Emma laid her head close to his shoulder as a result. "We can't stay here forever, though. It's obvious she's not coming back, and it's quite getting late…"
"Antoine," Francis said softly as he and Gilbert approached the waiting Spaniard.
Antonio turned his head around to look at his friends, "Mi amigos, what's up?"
"Antoine, I think we should leave now."
"Huh? But why?"
"She won't come," responded Gilbert briskly. "Believe me, Toni; she ain't coming, man." Seeing Antonio's eyes widen at the words, the Prussian quickly added, "I know it really sucks and is so unawesome of her to do so and all, man, but seriously – it's been six hours already! She ain't coming back-"
"You're wrong, Gilbert," much to Lien's surprise, Antonio's voice became lower and took a frosty, biting tone to it. "You are dead wrong there."
"Toni-"
"If you want to leave, then just go," said Antonio, his back now facing towards them.
"Antoine," Francis said as he came forward and laid a hand on the Spaniard's shoulder.
Said Spaniard, shook the Frenchman's hand away and said more firmly, "You can leave. Just leave."
Everyone exchanged worried glances, but did just as the Spaniard said; they all left.
Everyone except Lien.
The Vietnamese woman continued to watch Antonio from her place at the pew that was second from the altar and saw the Spaniard turned his head slightly around to see the backs of his friends leaving. His emerald orbs were now several shades darker and appeared…wet.
Soon, the sky outside was painted a dark shade of blue; so dark that it was close to black, and it had studs of diamond stars twinkling in it.
Despite the time passing by, Antonio still waited, now kneeling to the altar.
By this point, the Vietnamese woman could see that this time, the Spaniard's frame was starting to shake. A sniff emanated from his being, soon accompanied by a sob that escaped from his lips.
Then another sob came.
And another.
Soon, the once deathly quiet church was filled with the Spaniard's weeping. Antonio's head was bowed and he was hunched over on all fours, clutching at his chest as if to try and restrain the amount of pain that was surging inside. The Spaniard bit his lip as he tried to suppress his sobbing, but no matter how much he tried, another one just escaped soon after.
'What have I done wrong?' he wondered to himself as his emerald hues fixated onto the carpeted floor. 'Did I do something wrong? Is that why she left?'
Lien wasn't sure how long Antonio was crying for, but she screwed her eyes shut as each of the Spaniard's sobs pierced resounded right in her ears, aiming straight into her chest soon after, stabbing deeper and deeper. She felt her throat gain a lump and her own eyes started to water from the corners.
Soon, Antonio's sobs were replaced by that of a child's, and the Vietnamese woman found herself in a golden field underneath a brilliant, blue sky. Turning her head, she could see a little boy, no older than six, with a crop of messy, mocha-coloured hair sobbing uncontrollably; big, fat tears rolling down his cheeks like raindrops.
"Hey! Whatcha crying about?" a little girl of the same age approached the crying child, one of her chubby little hands now on her hip while she carried a tiny paddle with the other. "Why ya crying?"
The little boy sniffed as he responded between sobs, "M-My b-big brother…J-Joao…h-he…h-he doesn't…h-he hates me!"
The little girl scowled, "So? Who cares what he thinks!"
"H-he…he pushed me…a-and…c-crushed…m-my…m-my hat!" and with that, the poor child cried harder than before as he pointed with a quivering finger at a crumpled heap of straw at his small feet.
The little girl knelt down and picked it up, now seeing that it was a shabby, little straw hat that had most likely been stomped and trodden on. She looked at the little boy again as he continued to rub at his eyes and sob, and finally came close to him, "Hey, don't cry, okay?" she then put down her little paddle and took off the hat she was wearing. "You can have mine!"
The little boy sniffed, looking up with puffy eyes, "R-really?"
The little girl grinned, "Sure! I have another at home, anyway!" she then eagerly ran forward and placed the hat atop the boy's messy locks. "There! Perfect fit!" she then giggled. "It suits you a lot!"
The little boy couldn't help but giggle when she started to laugh as he held the hat's edges with his stubby, little fingers. "Muchas gracias, mi amiga!" he laughed, his tears starting to dry away. Seeing the little girl's confused expression, he giggled, "Thank you very much, my friend!"
"What's your name, anyway?" the little girl asked as she tilted her head to the side, now holding onto her mini paddle with both hands. "My name's Lien!"
"Lien, that's so pretty!" marveled the little boy, to which the little girl flushed. "I'm Antonio! It's nice to meet you!"
The two little children began running in the fields that were now shining gold from the sun's rays shining on it. Innocently chasing each other, rolling around in an upbeat manner and laughing and smiling together as the day continued to glow.
Soon, the memory melted away, and Lien found herself back in the church. Only this time, she was standing from her seat and, after contemplating for a moment with her eyes gently shut, took a step onto the carpeted aisle, which led to the altar.
Progressively, Lien continued taking more steps down the aisle, making her way to the grieving Spaniard. During this time, more memories flashed in her mind; everything to do with her and Antonio, playing like a film in the theaters they use to go to when they were younger.
Age thirteen, they were both picking tomatoes from his family's harvest. Later that year, he came over to help her at the rice fields.
Age sixteen, they were both going to the dance together, but just as friends since Emma had already asked the new Danish kid.
Age twenty, they were both gazing at the city at night from the mountains nearby, admiring the view as the stars twinkled like diamonds on a sheet of blue-black.
Age twenty-four, he met that woman.
Lien could feel her insides twisting in and out, trying to make her sick, but the memories flashing in her head prevented such a feeling from prevailing. Her heart began to thump even faster in her chest, as if to desperately try and spring out from there. She then shut her eyes; however, she could see the church clearly in her mind as she ran out of memories that she shared with Antonio.
Only this time, her simple áo dài was replaced by a beautiful, yet elegantly simple white, wedding dress. Her old non la was gone and replaced with a veil as transparent as silvery mist. The church itself was filled with the same people from before; all of the rows were occupied with smiling faces.
But most importantly, there he stood with that beautiful smile that could brighten even the darkest moments of her life. His emerald green eyes were sparkling with that merry hue and that joyful flame that always burned.
She finally opened her eyes, back to the still church that was now in silence as Antonio ceased his crying upon realizing who was standing beside his hunched over figure.
Standing where the bride was supposed to be standing.
'I never told you why she left…' the Vietnamese woman thought as she solemnly removed her hat from her head. 'But I couldn't…it would hurt you too much.'
"Lien?" Antonio asked, his usually laughing and cheerful tone now reduced to a quiet and soft voice.
He sounded so broken.
She hoped that she would be the one to pick up the pieces and mend him again.
The Vietnamese woman gingerly took a simple, red carnation (his home country's flower) from one of the intricately designed vases nearby and turned to face him fully. She held her hat close to her chest and had the flower in a tight, yet calculatingly gentle grip. She gazed up at him, her honey-gold eyes were calmly glowing pools in the darkened church.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in joining together this man and this woman in holy matrimony…"
Antonio's eyes widened upon hearing the words flow out from the Vietnamese woman's lips. He continued to stare down at her in shock, which caused Lien to wonder if she was really doing the right thing.
However she decided to press on; she didn't have to do it, either.
But she wanted to.
As Lien continued reciting the priest's lines (since the priest himself was long gone), Antonio noticed that she kept her gaze solely onto him and only him. She also looked dead serious and her voice seemed calm at first, but there was a slightly shaky tone that lay underneath it.
Still, Antonio found himself gazing right back into Lien's honey-gold orbs. He admired how strong she always was, with those licks of fire that burned in her eyes in a composed flame, but would burn brighter once determined; causing her eyes to become a more brilliant shade of such melting colours.
That was happening right now.
Antonio could also see various memories just by looking straight into her eyes. They had first met when they were six; Antonio had run into the fields and tried to befriend his older brother to whom he hadn't seen before (his mother separated his father and married Antonio's papa), and that only ended in disaster.
The older boy had pushed him over so he grazed his elbow, and had stomped on his straw hat, crushing it under his boot's heel. He yelled at him, claiming it was his fault that his father had died, and screamed his hate for him.
However, it wasn't Joao's actions that led arrows to be pierced right through Antonio's young heart back then – the older boy's words were what hurt him more.
Joao left soon after, and that was when a little Lien had curiously stumbled upon him, giving him her own hat to cheer him up and played with him in the fields soon after.
After that, they became quite close. Many expected the both of them to eventually end up together, but Antonio found the whole idea ridiculous and had laughed about it before; seriously, they were friends for years – she was just like a sister to him.
But now, that idea was becoming far less ludicrous as the memories played more vividly in his mind like a roll of autobiographic film; only the memories were about him and the woman before him.
Woman.
When had she become that? Antonio wasn't sure; she had changed so much – no longer was she just the stubborn and determined girl he knew, but now, here she was…
A beautiful, elegant and mature woman that any man would be lucky to marry.
'Maybe…that lucky man is me,' Antonio thought to himself. 'It was me all along.'
As continued to gaze down at Lien in wonder, he began to wonder; just when did she become a woman? When had she suddenly matured and become so beautiful? Not that she ever had a bad day in her life when it came to appearance; sure, she never tried, but she had a simplistic and natural beauty around her.
And her presence always comforted him, and made him feel...wanted.
"Do you, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, take me as your beloved wife?" the Vietnamese woman asked in the calmest voice she could muster, but it took a lot of control to make sure her voice wouldn't shake or reach a higher pitch due to nervousness.
Antonio could only look back at her, emerald green melding with honey-gold. His eyes were swimming with tears again.
Only this time, they were accompanied with a warm and loving smile.
"I do," he responded earnestly.
Lien froze, her eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat upon his response. All at once, the top of the Vietnamese woman's lips curved upwards and her eyes shimmered as well, becoming wet.
Antonio then reached out for her hand – the one that held her hat, and took it in his own, his grip gentle yet firm. "Do you, Lien Nguyen, take me as your beloved husband?"
"I do," responded the Vietnamese woman shyly, her face now dusted red as Antonio tenderly stroked her cheek. A sudden, warm spark surged through her veins and down her spine as his smiled continued to glow down on her and only her.
He leaned down, eyes softly shut as he brought his face closer to hers. Lien only responded by softly closing her own eyes and leaning her head up slightly so they could capture each other's lips.
'All this time; you were always by my side, where you will always belong.'
'I do, because I love you, and only you.'
Now lying on the carpeted floors of the now warmed church in the cold evening, the conical, straw hat lay beside the red carnation.
I just realized I forgot to add an after note, but then again...I don't have much else to say.
Anyway, thoughts and opinions? Have an awesome day! :DDD