Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or its characters. Himapapa does.

I know I shouldn't have started anything new, because really I have many stories going on. But I can't help it. So here it is. I'll try update everyday.

so, Portugal and Macau has apparently become my thing. I wish I could write slash, haizzz.

"Você está bem?" means 'Are you okay?' in Portuguese, I believe. Then again, my knowlegde of Portuguese is almost zero.

again, Himapapa hasn't told us anything about Portugal's personality.


Day 1: Holding Hands.


The first time she holds his hand, he's so startled that he almost pull back.

It's a late afternoon, with the sun fading with its soft orange light and the cool wind blowing through the leaves on the ground, and Portugal is standing on his ship when he sees whom he's waiting for. China is walking towards them, and even if Portugal can't see clearly the man's expression, he can tell that the older nation is looking at him in distaste. Following him is a girl in red, dark hair swaying slightly with the wind and glowing golden in the sunset. China's lips are set into a thin line as he murmurs something to her, to which she nods in response before she goes, alone, up to Portugal's place.

It makes him sad, really, to separate a young girl from her brother, but they are nations, aren't they, and they aren't supposed to get attached, even if their own family. It makes him sad to see China's back, so straight, so prideful as even though he's just given his sister to a westerner. It's when he finds a cold, sweating hands wrapping around his own, and he looks down into a pair of steady amber eyes.

There is a split second before he realises whose hand it is, and his eyes widen.

Her hands are sweating and her shoulders are shaking and it has nothing to do with the wind, but her words holds no fear:

"Please take care of me."


The second time he catches her hands, it's him that starts.

There is a boom of thunder rattled the door, rain buffeting against the pane with ferocity, and she is startled, dropping the book she's holding, forehead sweating and eyes wide and lets out a small whimper as lightning streaks across the sky, illuminating Portugal's study with an eerie light.

"Você está bem?" He asks, and Macau shakes her head immediately. Right, as if he could believe that. "Is that the storm?" At that, she goes very stiff before sending him a resentful gaze.

"So?" Her voice sounds cold and distant for a moment, and the realisation dawns on him. "You're going to think -"

"You're not silly, or ridiculous." He shakes his head, before dropping himself next to her. "It's normal for a girl." He smiles, reaching to her hands. "Here, I'll be there."

She stares at him and at their joint hands, before muttering a soft 'thank you' and pulling back.


The third time they hold hands, neither knows who has initiated, but neither really cares.

They are merely walking side by side, talking about how life are after she's come back to China and the burden of an empire has been lifted from his shoulder. He knows the path well enough - it leads to her home. Her smiles show her content, so does his heart. They are halfway through their walk when he realises his hands are holding something warm, and he has to blink repeatedly before looking down, and the memories of her cold and sweating hands flash in his mind. Now her hands are so warm. She follows his gaze, soft blush adorning her cheeks, but she makes no move to withdraw her hands.

His smile widens. They walk on.


notes: please review to make me feel like I haven't made a wrong choice.

but they're the right choices, damn it!