The strums of the guitar were the first thing England heard when he arrived at Spain's doorstep.
At first, he was a bit irked at how Spain didn't come when he knocked. Sooner, he started to admire it more. The sound was... warm. Deep. Gentle. Passionate. Yet somehow, exciting. Even when the house muffled the sound of the guitar a little, it was still a beautiful sound.
Acoustic guitars seemed to fit Spain's personality very well, England thought. It mirrored the air of the very country that Spain represented perfectly, as well as Spain himself. In a way.
Warm. Obviously for his country's atmosphere. And his personality.
Deep. With a legacy of 1500 years, it wasn't too surprising to see how much it added up to at present times.
Gentle. Spain could be a bit brash sometimes, but he was still gentle deep down.
Passionate. Spain wasn't called the country of passion for nothing.
Yet somehow... exciting. Both Spain and the country itself had much more to meet the eye. Just as you thought you knew everything about it, there was still much, much more to learn about them both...
England shook his head and cleared his train of thought. He knocked briskly on the door again, which made the guitar's strums halted. (Bit of a shame)
Footsteps echoed inside as Spain made his way to the door, and England stood back as the door swung open
"Ah, hi England!" He greeted with a sunny smile.
"Hi," England said back. He would've opted for a less casual greeting, but he let it slide this time.
He followed Spain to the living room, and sat down onto the couch. Beside Spain, he saw a guitar, and thought back to the guitar music.
"Hey."
"Hm?" Spain raised his head.
"The guitar playing. It was grand." Spain grinned in return.
"Gracias."