"I was such an ugly kid," the auburn haired man complained, trying in vain to close the offending photo album.
"You were not!" Spain said. "You were just dirty all the time. Which makes zero sense, because you didn't even work!" He chuckled, but then saw the face his former charge made. "Oh... sorry. But you know I'm just teasing, right?"
"Whatever, bastard." Romano muttered, blushing.
Scooting closer, Spain smirked. "Remember when you tried to run away?"
Romano looked down, recalling all the times he had left. "Which time?"
"The first time. When Turkey tried to take you."
"Yeah, of course I remember. The bastard was scary as hell!" He shuddered at the memory.
"Aww, Roma, it was the cutest thing ever! You were practically begging me to come rescue you!"
Romano punched his shoulder, scowling. "No way, idiot! You must be imagining that."
"Its true! You were all like, 'I wish stupid Spain would come rescue me!'"
"Just shut up."
"And then the other time when England got you..."
"I said to shut up!" he repeated, but Spain could see the small smile on Romano's lips.
"I felt so bad, not being able to get to you..." He wrapped his arms around the others neck, leaning closer.
"Get off!" the younger nation insisted, but ended up relaxing and leaning into Spain. "I was the stupid one for forgetting about the war."
"It not like we were even talking then..." the elder said, voice full of regret.
A quiet moment passed, both men deep in thought. Spain rested his forehead on Romano's, looked into his hazel eyes and said, "You know, I'll always be there to help you. And if you ever ran away again, I'd wait for you to come back. If something happened and you stopped loving me, just know how much I care."
Blushing, Romano pulled Spain closer. "Oh shut up..." he whispered, and kissed him.