"I love you."

It was so quietly said, Romano almost mistook it for a sigh. When he glanced up, however, Spain was staring at some fixed point about 3 feet in front of him on the floor, his finger slowly going around the rim of his wine glass. There was a moment of silence before Romano looked back down at his own glass.

"I love you."

This time he heard it. Romano snapped his head up, his eyes set to a glared more out of default rather than any real anger.

"What?" he asked dumbly, watching Spain slowly look up at him, eyes dark and serious. He shifted nervously under Spain's gaze, unused to the serious expression.

"I love you," Spain said for the third time, for what felt like the millionth time. Annoyance was creeping into his voice as he pressed his fingers to the side of his glass. Romano sighed a small breath of relief that he tried to cover with an eye roll.

"I know. You tell me all the time, dumbass," he said, sinking into the couch. He took a sip of his wine before continuing into his glass, "Besides, idiot, you're my best friend." At this, his face flushed a dark red. He could handle Spain's random confessions, but returning them was harder. But alcohol makes one's tongue loose.

"No, Lovi, listen. I love you," Spain stressed, eyes pleading for Romano to understand this time.

"You're drunk, Antonio."

Spain's eyes darken with hurt and he bows his head, taking a shaky breath. Swallowing thickly, he stares into his reflection from the dark wine. He hadn't taken more than a taste.

"Lovi, listen to me. Look at me, Lovi. I'm serious," he cried, putting the glass on the coffee table. "Lovi. I'm in love with you. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of eternity with you. I want to hug and kiss you. I want to give you flowers and chocolates on Valentine's Day. I'm in love with you, Lovi."

Romano looked frozen his spot as he listened, eyes wide and staring off. Spain tried desperately to search for a reaction. Any reaction. Anything.

"Wh-what is it you want me to say…?" Romano whispered, his face a darker shade of red. He wished the room was darker and he found himself itching for a cigarette.

"Say it back. Tell me you love me, too. Please," Spain pleaded, leaning forward to take Romano's hands in his own, squeezing them tight. Romano looked away, chewing on his bottom lip.

"I… I can't… I…" he chokes out, a slight tremor going through his body. Spain's expression softens and he rubs light circles on the back of Romano's hand.

"What do you mean? Lovi, what do you mean? You can't? Can't what?" Spain panics and Romano pulls his hands away, shaking his head.

"I… Just… I can't!" he cried. "I-Italy would…"

"What about him…?" Spain asked, trying to wrap his head around everything that was happening. He had played this scene many times in his head before but never could he have imagined this… this hurt. He felt as if someone was simultaneously stepping on his heart and slicing it to ribbons. He had expected anger and then acceptance. Not flat out, confusing rejection. He wasn't even sure why he was being rejected.

"I'm sorry… I can't… Italy would…" Romano broke off, wishing Spain would just understand and let it drop. He hated him for making him have to spell it out. "Y-you know I can't… Feliciano and I…"

"Feli…? This is about Feli…? But… you don't even love him that way! It's just for political show! It's not real!" Spain cried, trying to bite back the sob bubbling in his throat.

"IT IS FOR HIM!" Romano shouted, eyes flashing a mix of angry frustration and pain. "G-god fucking dammit… Why can't you just understand?"

Spain quickly moved across the room to sit next to Romano on the couch. He barely pays any attention to the wine glass as it falls in result of the coffee table being bumped by his knee in his haste. This was more important. Romano was more important.

"I just c-can't! Blood comes first! D-don't you get it? It's not about me o-or you or even us. Bl-blood comes first! Feliciano comes first!" Romano paused as Spain wrapped his arms around his body, rocking gently. He took a few deep, shaky breaths before continuing, "He might be a bigger dumbass than you sometimes, but... D-don't think he can't see the way you look at me. Th-the way I look at you," –He chuckles at his easy confession—"He… He sees it and I-I see how it hurts him. Blood comes first… I can't just hurt and abandon him like that… I'm sorry, Spain. Antonio. Tonio. Toni… I'm sorry…"

Spain didn't answer, just placed his chin on top of Romano's head. He squeezed his eyes shut as he kisses his hair.

"Okay… Okay… I… I understand…."