Spain had moved on. He had found love with another; who knew France had had feelings for him all along? The two were now moved in together, and couldn't be any happier. Rumor had it France was planning to pop the question any day now.

All of it made Romano want to punch something. Which he did, whenever he wasn't crying in his room. Veneziano knew something was wrong, but Germany told him to leave the boy alone till he was ready to talk about it.

It wasn't over for Romano. He still loved the damn bastard, and being without him hurt more than he could have ever imagined. Romano had always hit Spain, called him stupid, and overall treated him like garbage. But he never imagined the possibility that Spain took it all seriously. That his actions poisoned their relationship, ripped it at the seams until it all fell apart.

Spain needed someone who appreciated him, someone who loved him openly. And told Romano that before he walked out of his life for good. Before he left Romano standing in his own front door, numb from shock. Before Romano collapsed in tears, screaming every insult he could imagine at the Spaniard. Just turn around, bastard. Give me that clueless smile I don't dare to say that I love. Tell me it's all okay, that you're just being your stupid self. Dammit, don't walk out on me!

Romano never said those words aloud, and wondered if they would have changed Spain's mind. Would it have been proof enough to make him stay? But Romano had just yelled his curse words, and Spain never looked back. Was he crying as he walked away? Smiling? Romano would never know.

Romano glanced over at his previous lover, who was shamelessly holding hands with France as the two exchanged love-filled glances.

It's just not right, dammit! You're supposed to look at me like that! No one else!

Romano had so many words in his heart that he would never dare to say. Come back. I need you. I love you. There is no one else. I know it was all my fault. And Romano knew that it was the very fact that he'd never say any of it that made Spain leave. But he couldn't help it. It was just how he was.

France passed Spain a note. Spain opened it with that stupid, empty-headed, clueless, lovely, wonderful smile of his. His eyes grew at the words inside, and when he turned back to France the man was offering him a simple gold ring.

Romano gripped Veneziano's shirt involuntarily as his eyes stung. It's all my fault, dammit! Stop this charade! You only love me! You said so yourself!

Suddenly Germany requested a break of meeting as he and Veneziano exchanged a knowing glance. Veneziano pulled Romano up out of his chair and out the door as Spain exclaimed to the room, "I'm engaged, guys!"

Romano didn't even notice he was pulled into the bathroom, or that he fell against the wall. All he knew was the pain that elicited sobs from deep within his chest.

"Th-that…. Bastard…" he choked out as he fell to the floor. Veneziano pulled him into a hug. "D-don't touch me, fratello!" he protested weakly. Veneziano didn't listen. Romano was glad. Veneziano just rocked him on the tile floor, whispering that it was all going to be okay.

Che… that's what Tomato Bastard always said. But Romano didn't say that. He just cried into his brother's chest.