Mi Corazón Fluctuante

(My Fluctuating Heart)

A SpainHun fic

"Your footwork is wonderful, and your rhythm is perfect. Your energy is good too, but you just lack...something," Spain announced thoughtfully as he observed the panting Hungarian.

Hungary grabbed her water bottle that was next to her bags in the corner of the large room and collapsed down against the wall closest to her. Her tired, forest gaze found it's way to the man's cheerful eyes of the same shade.

"I'm so tired. This is fun, but I don't see what I'm missing, Antonio! We've been going at it for hours. I just wish I could get this right," Hungary moaned dejectedly. "It's just that all my dances are so much more...different."

A frown grew on Spain's face as he listened to the woman's words. Moments passed before suddenly he snapped his fingers and cried with a smile, "I know!" and grabbed Hungary's arms to haul her up off the ground.

Hungary gave a cry as her aching muscles were forced to work all of a sudden. She didn't resist Spain as he molded her into her starting position.

"I've been such a bad teacher, Senorita Elizabeta! I haven't even taken the time to give you hands on instruction...I've been letting you do this by yourself the whole time by watching me. I'm so sorry, mi querida!"

The petite woman forgot about her pain as she felt a burning heat grow underneath the skin of her cheeks.

"It's fine, Toni. You've been a wonderful teacher so far. I wonder if I'm just not cut out for the flamenco," she said sweetly while patting him on his tanned cheek. She felt the calloused hand of the beautiful man in front of her grasp her own for a few seconds. Her heart throbbed as he looked deeply into her eyes, a hint of something boiling underneath, before gently bringing her hand down.

"Nonsense, Elizabeta! Stay right here," ordered Spain energetically while patting her head.

The nation strode over to the CD player, Hungary placed a pale hand onto her violently beating heart.

'That man...'

Before her thoughts could travel too deeply, Spain had returned, a wide grin on face that showed too many teeth. It was a little too excited, a little too...

"Now," he started as the guitar on the CD gave a few slow, heart-filled notes."Just remember, watch me, feel the music, and have fun!"

The music picked up and before she knew it, they were dancing.

She watched as Spain moved his feet quickly is rhythm with the passionate flow of the music that filled the large room. Hungary concentrated on everything she had learned, and began to move with him from a distance. Her own feet moving in quick precision to match his perfectly; the only difference between their movements being the way her hands motioned passionately.

Hungary giggled as Spain let out a playful, "Ole!"

The music became more intense. She lost herself in a swishing of her skirts, tapping of heels, and hair flying wildly and before she knew it, the dance had transformed itself into something entirely different. She wasn't aware of their close quarters until the music abruptly stopped.

Her chest heaved in tune with his own, the contact between chiseled muscle and soft flesh sent a shiver down both their spines. Their breaths intermingled, sweet and spicy.

Spain looked into her emerald orbs with a fire that, to her, sent the room into temperatures on par with the sun's. She looked a little deeper and saw an emotion that terrified her, and she was reminded of seas, gold, and blood. Hungary froze as she grew a touch of anxiety, for the look on his face was of pure taking.

As if his voice were a judge's gavel striking a block, he shook her out of her stupor, and all tension in the room dispersed like rain clouds on a sunny day.

"Wow! Sorprendente, Senorita Elizabeta. I can safely say that you've mastered the art of the flamenco."

Before she could reply, he wrapped her in a hug so tight that she found it hard to breath. On accident, her opened mouth was pressed into his neck. She tasted the sweat on his smooth skin, and swore his long fingers grabbed her waist a little tighter for a second before letting go.

Hungary let out an awkward smile and reminded herself that she was as old, if not older, than Spain and should not be feeling like a frightened child around the man. This was Antonio, and he would never hurt her.

"Thank you so much, Toni! I haven't had that much fun in a long while. I've been trying to catch up on my Spanish culture, and who would be better to ask than the 'boss' himself?" she giggled out with a kind, teasing tone. Her body was sore, but nothing she couldn't handle.

"No problem at all, Elizabeta. It's never a problem to teach such a beautiful lady such as yourself one of my arts," Spain replied with a bright smile. He held out his hand for her to take.

"It would be my pleasure to escort you around Barcelona for the rest of the evening. I know of a restaurant I'm sure you would love."

The woman smiled as she placed her hand in his own and they walked out of the studio. The light in her eyes was a touch more hesitant, but she followed her friend down the stairs regardless, ready for a fun night in this passionate country of Spain's.

A/N: I really love this couple because their both too spirited for their own good! My headcanon says that Spain's creepy side can be brought out in passionate moments, such as the one he experienced while dancing with Hungary. Now Hungary's no punk, but Conquistador!Spain is someone you don't want to come out and play. I'm sorry if the Spanish is a little off; I used Google. I hope you enjoyed! Please review. :)