Howdy Y'all! Happy Leap Day! It comes once every 4 years, and frankly, I'm just posting this to have the date of Publish say 2-29...no, I mean, I'm posting this because I hope some people may get a little bit of enjoyment out of it...?

Warnings: OOC; human names used; any cultural/historical tidbits are hidden, but slightly there I guess; angst;

Some of th`1ese only makes sense with an open mind, you'll have to guess who the people are. "couples" and characters vary.

well, Enjoy~!


Sadness~

Sadness : On a Friday night, Gilbert watched West leave for his date with Feliciano. "Goodnight, Bruder", he had said, which meant he wasn't coming back until morning. Gilbert headed toward the guest bedroom where he slept, deciding to turn in for the night.

Torment: Arthur can hear himself shouting the incoherent phrases before he's shaken awake by Alfred at 4:45 AM. Large blue eyes are always full of worry until he reassures the younger that it was not that big of deal.

Alfred chuckles and teases, "Another about Francis and your Fairies again?"

Arthur gives his typical annoyed scowl. He can't bring himself to tell Alfred that his dream really included the other's injury and possibly, death.

"Do you think…" the Englishman trailed off, lifting the covers next to him. The American gives his best 100 watt smile and climbs into the bed. His arm gently pulls Arthur close, "Don't worry, I'll protect you." He whispers.

The elder's hand found its way to the back of the American's head, searching for the injury that was indeed nonexistent.

And for once, Arthur wishes that Alfred wouldn't put himself in danger just for the sake of others.

Shame: Antonio unwillingly drug Romano to the local bar for his birthday. The Spaniard separated from a light haired female just in time to see the look on the young Italian's face: disgusted and disappointed. It was when Romano walked out the door that Antonio wished he'd listened to the birthday boy's wishes of a day on the beach.

Disappointment: Everyday, Matthew filled up Kumajiro's food dish, and water bowl. He enjoyed seeing the ecstatic polar bear dig into the tender morsels, and lap up the ice cold spring water.

"Did you get enough to eat, Kumakichi?"

The bear looked up at the blond. "Who are you?"

"I'm Canada…"


Joys~

Contentment: Antonio sighed with exhaustion as he set the over-stuffed grocery bags down on the kitchen floor. What a hard day! Grocery shopping after working the fields sure was tiring.

"Romano! I'm home!" The Spaniard called to his housemate, not entirely expecting an answer in return.

Setting the fresh onions into a bowl on the counter, Antonio noticed a large basket full of tomatoes. Romano must have harvested them all by himself after he left. On the stove a covered pot simmered over a low flame. Antonio took a pot holder and lifted the lid. Steam escaped as well as the magical aroma of a tomato sauce made with their fresh garden tomatoes.

The Spanish man talked down the hallway to their two bed room and saw that the papers that once littered the carpeted floor were in a messy pile on the oak desk, and sloppily folded laundry littered his bed. There he found Romano, his bare feet buried in a pile of loose sock, steady breathing, and faint snoring. It was then that Antonio spotted the Gold and Red of his fútbol jersey clutched closely to the young Italian's chest, and a smile came to his face.

Optimism: Matthew jumped up from his seat as his team won that gold medal he'd been praying for.


Anger~

Rage: For a split second, as he ran at him, weapon set, he wanted him to die. But everything fell apart when that second passed.

Disgust: He watched, mortified, as his brother took another bite of that abhorred, rancid sausage, and thrust an accusing finger toward the blond. "This is all your fault, you stupid Potato Bastard!"

Envy: "YES!" Alfred exclaimed from his living room seat, mimicking the victorious emotions of Evan Lysacek as he just won the Olympic Gold Medal.

"You think figure skate is no longer sport, da?" Russia commented calmly, watching the television images flash by as the reporters attempted to snag footage of the blond world skating champion, Evgeni Plushenko's back.

"WooHoo! Oh lighten up, Ivan. Evan's an American hero now! We all knew Plushenko was good, but my guy beat him! Woo!" Alfred pumped his fist in the air, plopping back down on the sofa and taking a sip of his bubbly drink.

A pleasant grin made its way onto the Russian's face. "Then we will have to see how well Mr. Lysacek holds up in Sochi, da? Just four more years…"


Fear~

Horror: For ten years now, it's America's tradition to invite England and Canada to his house for a week visit during the month of September. On the 10th, they pull an all-nighter, jumping on the trampoline, watching the stars, playing monopoly—anything to pass the time. On the 11th, once America is too tired to stay awake, England holds him closely throughout the night.

Nervousness: Alfred spent all morning in front of the hotel mirror, re-combing his already in-place hair and constantly wiping the sweat from his brow with a cream colored handkerchief. He checked his watch and groaned: still two more hours. Maybe he'd go out for a burger before his first World Meeting started.


Love~

Lust: In the janitor's closet of the high school where he had his first after school job, Francis wasn't the first to acknowledge the overflowing mop sink.

Longing: "Brother! Open the door! Marry me! Brother!" With her fingers were rubbed raw, she collapsed against the barricaded door.

Surprise: He knew West had always had a small shower, so he wasn't expecting to see both Italian brothers step through the small frosted glass door. He couldn't help but laugh at Romano's angry scowl as he complained about having to sleep in the same house as "that Macho Potato Bastard". He smirked and brought the covers to his chin as he settled down in his Brother's guest bed.


2-29-12

I hope you enjoyed at least a little. Review to let me know that you were here.

Take care of yourselves, everybody!