Warnings: Strong language, slightly sexual content (though nothing explicit) and semi-disturbing images (note: if you think this should be rated M as the story goes along, please let me know and I'll change it)

Author's Note: This is not a historically accurate fanfic, although I have done some historical research for it. This story mostly follows the canon's plot more than anything, although obviously not completely.

It should also be noted that here, the countries only use another's human name when they feel emotionally close and/or fully trusting to that country. Although this isn't a huge huge plot point, this is an important thing to keep in mind while reading. Translations are also located at the bottom of the page after each chapter. My Spanish is a bit rusty as well, so please let me know if I got anything wrong grammatically or otherwise so I can fix it. ¡Gracias!

Non Vedo, Non Sento, Non Parlo

I see nothing, I hear nothing, I say nothing.

"Well~! I guess I should head on over to the World meeting now~!"

My eyes still closed, I grunt in response before rolling over onto my stomach, wrapping my arms around one of the plush hotel pillows and snuggling my face into it. The sun's warmth on the bare skin of my back feels so goddamn good...especially alongside the cool sheets that were still (somehow) pooled around my waist. God, I can't remember the last time I felt this content...

The bed dips down besides me and I can't stop a stupid-ass smile from spreading across my face, thankful that Spain wouldn't be able to see it. His fingers start to slowly massage their way down my neck and I moan, slightly arching up into his touch and for once not giving two fucks even as Spain chuckles. Spain's laugh is cut short however when they ghost along the base of my neck, his fingers abruptly going still. I open my eyes and frown, wondering what the hell happened to make him stop. Pushing the suddenly uneasy feeling down, I shift up on the bed to lean on my elbows, turning my head to get a better look at him.

What I see makes my heart drop.

Spain's expression is full of pain...his eyes refusing to meet mine as he stares at a single spot along my shoulder.

"I didn't realize I bit you that hard," he murmurs, his fingers now brushing a small spot on my shoulder. My frown deepens in confusion before I finally remember what he's talking about, images of the previous night flashing through my mind and making my face feel impossibly warm.

O-Oh...

R-R-Right...

"I...I-I didn't notice," I stutter out, shifting uncomfortably and now being the one unable to look at him, "I was, uh...kinda preoccupied at the time, so...y-yeah..."

Spain doesn't say anything and an awkward silence begins to drag on between us. A full minute probably hadn't even passed and it was already starting to get to me. I mean, what was the big fucking deal anyway? So what that he bit–!

My thoughts are interrupted when I feel a soft, yet almost hesitant, kiss being placed right on the wound. But despite the slight twinge, it didn't actually hurt...in fact, the kiss was so painstakingly gentle and...and loving that all the past feelings of confusion and anger instantly vanish.

Apparently along with my ability to breathe like a functional being, if my quickened breathing was anything to go by.

Goddamnit! How does he do that?

"Lo siento, mi querido...," he whispers, placing another gentle kiss on the wound before brushing his lips against it, "mi corazón...," his warm breathe now fanning across my skin before he places another gentle kiss on top of it, making me shiver, "mi vida..."

"B-Bastard...stop saying such sappy things and just go to the fucking meeting already, damnit...," I mumble half-heartedly, unable to stop myself from blushing at his words. Thankfully, I'm able to at least stop myself from smiling like a fucking idiot again. Although it was hard to even do that. F-Fucking sweet, gushy, bastard...

"No te mereco..."

It takes a moment for me to process those words.

I don't deserve you.

But when I do...

The desire to smile completely disappears.

How can he possibly think that?

The question makes me bolt upright, barely registering how the back of my head bashes Spain in the face. I purposely ignore Spain's pained whine in order to properly glare at him, continuing to glare even as I watch him carefully holding his nose as he starts to whine about how completely un-cute that was. I didn't see any blood so the bastard was obviously fine...fucking wuss.

"Why would you fucking say something like that?" I demand angrily, the words rushing out before I could even think to stop them, "Especially since I'm the one that doesn't...t-t-that doesn't..."

Since I'm the one that doesn't deserve you.

But before I can even get the words out, Spain's lips crash against my own in a bruising kiss, all the previous gentleness gone, leaving behind only teeth and tongue. His fingers thread themselves in my hair, keeping me from moving my face away. Not that I was even thinking about doing such a thing...not now. God, not now...

I groan into the kiss, immediately taking advantage and trying my best to keep up with his nearly frantic pace. Fuck...Spain was never rough with me. Well, almost never. Last night was the first time that he actually let go. He always took everything with me so damn slowly...like I was some porcelain doll that could break at any moment if he was too rough with me...

That wasn't at all the case now.

Now Spain was switching back between exploring the inside of my mouth, and biting at my bottom lip when I needed a moment to actually breathe before plunging back in again. You would've thought that he was about to disappear, and that he needed to memorize the inside of mouth before then. Without warning though he suddenly twists my face away from him, interrupting the kiss. Panting, I'm about to demand why he stopped when I really take a good look at him. H-His eyes...they seemed to literally smolder as he gazed into mine, a powerful emotion that I couldn't identify shining through them.

"I don't want you to ever think like that again...do you understand me, Lovino?" he asks quietly, his tone somehow no less intense than his gaze. I can't help but wince a little at the use of my human name, knowing how serious he was for him to be saying that instead of one of his ridiculous pet names. He looked so damn serious that I couldn't even find the words to tell him how much of a fucking hypocrite he was being for saying that. Spain notices me wince (of course he does) and his gaze softens as his fingers immediately loosen themselves in my hair. "Why is it that I can't seem to stop hurting you...?" he mumbles, the question completely catching me off guard.

"What?! Don't be ridiculous, Spain! I'm fine! It didn't even hurt! You would never intentionally hurt me anyway!" I try to reason, trying to somehow get him to understand. Spain doesn't seem to believe me though, his expression skeptical as he remains silent. Fuck, how can I get him to believe me? That it's all fine? That I didn't mind him being rough with me once in awhile, damnit?!

Fucking shit...we've hardly been together and I was already fucking things up! Ugh, I'm so fucking bad at this...

Spain closes his eyes and takes a few deep breathes before his eyes snap open, his expression turning solemn as he stares straight at me with a look of determination in his eyes. Although there was something about it that looked so raw...vulnerable even...

W-What the fuck?

"E-Entiendes, por favor...," he murmurs, his voice slightly trembling at first. He pauses to take another deep breathe before continuing, his voice now firmer yet still holding a level of vulnerability, "Eres mi todo, Lovino. Te necesito. Te amo..."

His declaration makes my heart literally skip a beat.

I...I had always hoped that Spain would love me back...and not like some sort of annoying kid brother either, but as an equal...a...a lover. I was actually really nervous that his hesitance was due to the fact that he couldn't look past the fact that he raised me when I was a younger Nation. So for him to basically acknowledge that that wasn't the case, and out loud no less, I...I...

I open my mouth to say something, anything, but I couldn't...I just fucking couldn't. I don't know why, I just...the words, those three simple words that I knew he wanted, no maybe needed, to hear back just wouldn't come out of my mouth. They just wouldn't.

How could I? When the very thought of forming those very words made me feel like I was about to drown in this unexplainable fear that now had an iron grip on me. A fear that threatened to engulf me whole if I even tried. What the fuck is wrong with me?

What am I so afraid of...?

Somehow Spain seems to understand (though I have no fucking clue how he could when I didn't even understand it myself) and quickly kisses me on the forehead before giving me a strained smile, obviously trying to hide how hurt he was that I didn't say it back. Fucking bastard...couldn't act for shit...

"You should try and get some rest," he states simply, still trying to act like me it was all no big deal to him...and failing miserably at it. "I'll go ahead and let Feliciano know that you won't be attending the World meeting, just in case he was expecting you. So I, uh...I guess I'll see you later tonight then...?"

When I don't say anything back Spain lets out a sigh, now going to move off the bed. But before he even properly gets to his feet my arm subconsciously shoots out to grab him by the sleeve, keeping him close to me for a moment longer. I stare up at him desperately, trying to tell him something that I couldn't even put into words, all the while mentally screaming at myself to just say the fucking words already, damnit! But in the end, they still wouldn't come out. The unexplainable fear somehow having an an even stronger grip on me as the silence dragged on between us.

Spain looks genuinely surprised at my action before a gentle smile stretches across his face and he leans down again to kiss me. This time all over over my face, each one as reverent as the first. First on my forehead, then at the tip of my nose, one on each cheek bone...before finally giving me a kiss on the lips, keeping it to a simple brush of the lips.

"Don't worry about it, mi amor...you'll say it when you're ready. I understand," he promises before placing a warm hand right over my frantically beating heart, "Confía en mí."

Trust me.

The fear that had previously gripped me suddenly becomes much more manageable at his words, and I let out a shaky breathe I hadn't realized I was holding in. Not trusting my voice though, I give him a small smile to show how thankful I was. When Spain sees the smile he grins widely, although I try not to frown when I notice that there was something...I-I don't know, off about it. "¡Bueno! So how about I come by as soon as the meeting's over and we can order room service for dinner and watch a movie and cuddle for the rest of the night? Sound good~?"

I force myself to ignore the unsettling feeling forming in the pit of my stomach and nod silently, still trying to keep myself from frowning at...whatever it was. Somehow I must've been able to do it (I have no fucking idea how; I definitely wasn't smiling at that point) because Spain happily kisses me on the forehead one last time before making his way out of the hotel room. But even as the door clicks behind him, I still can't get rid of this unsettling feeling...like I had somehow royally fucked up. That it was some kind of huge mistake to not say those three words back to him.

Like I had somehow failed yet again.

Only this time it had been really important...

I shake my head at the absurdity of it all, forcing myself to slide out of bed in order to make my way to the bathroom. What a stupid fucking thought...Spain said that he understood. He always understood me. Or at least the bastard tried his best to...so what am I so fucking worried about?

Besides...it's not like there was some huge rush to tell him now. As a Nation, we had all the time in the world. At least compared to an average human. Unlike them, we had hundred, if not thousands of years worth of this so-called precious time...we never have to worry about not having enough of it. Time, in a sense, didn't even affect us. Hell, it practically didn't even exist to us in a sense. So what was even the point in worrying about it? And as a Nation who survived up to the present modern age, we needed to worry even less about disappearing. It was very unlikely at that point that we would end up like some of the others.

Like nonno...

I scowl at where my train of thought was heading, angrily shucking off my clothes and getting into the shower, turning on the water and ignoring how goddamn cold it was.

This is fucking ridiculous...if I had so much fucking time to begin with then there was nothing to even worry about. I'll tell him eventually about how I feel.

J-Just not right now.

...

Damnit...

I sigh in frustration as the water finally begins to warm up, closing my eyes and bracing myself on the tiles and letting it spray onto the back of my head, but unable to take any comfort in the newfound warmth.

I felt just as cold as when I first got in.

Translations:

Spanish:

Lo siento, mi querido – I'm sorry, my darling

Mi corazón – My heart

Mi vida – My life

Entiendes, por favor. Eres mi todo, Lovino. Te necesito. Te amo. – Please understand. You are my everything, Lovino. I need you. I love you.

Mi amor – My love

Bueno – Good

Italian:

Nonno – Grandfather