Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters.
Hello~
I'm not really sure what possessed me to post this now. Maybe the fact that its the first time it's rained in a while here and it reminded me of this story I wrote 6 months ago for class (yes, fanfiction for class, it was a great assignment XD).
Anyway, please enjoy this light, fluffy oneshot! Summer I definitely plan to work on another rather long Spamano fic so hopefully I will get that done :) Yay!
Despite the bright ball of sunshine that he was, Antonio loved rainy days.
The sound of large rain drops splattering on the cold pavement calmed him, and standing under the assaulting sky—letting the water fall down his brown curls and rest on his eyelashes—did so even more.
Maybe the rain reminded him of his childhood in Madrid. Well, lack thereof, since rain showers were rare and the sun never went away. Given, he loved the feeling of the hot star on his back while working in the fields, tending to his family tomato garden and letting sweat soak his plaid shirt.
However, there was something special about the rain—something he couldn't quite place.
The light drizzle soon began to pick up as Antonio, lost in his thoughts, walked down the sidewalk. Despite the rain, it was a typical day in New York—one filled with numerous taxis backed up in traffic, men in business suits with a coffee in one hand and a briefcase in another, and many more people in a rush to get on with their daily lives.
Antonio, however, was not one of those people. His friends would have—and have often—called him airheaded and carefree. He agreed that maybe he should be more aware of things, but he never felt like being oblivious was a bad thing.
In his currently "oblivious" state of mind, Antonio barely noticed women and men ducking for cover under unoccupied awnings as the rain assaulted them, nor the person he was just about to bump into.
THUD!
The person he had crashed into stumble back and lose his balance. Acting immediately, the Spaniard clasped onto the man's wrist and lightly tugged him back into a steady stance. The Spaniard opened his mouth to apologize before his voice died in his throat. The only thought that filled his mind was gold. Golden eyes that reflected a sea of emotion. His eyes.
Those eyes momentarily fluttered over the stunned Spaniard before shooting him a glare.
"Watch where you're going, idiot!"
As the man dusted droplets of water off his arms, Antonio awoke from his trance to notice that they were both standing under an awning in front of a hotel. It was one of the many few that shielded the city-goers from the rain, which had turned into a straight out downpour. Despite the rudeness from his companion, the Spaniard just chuckled and scratched the back of his head like the nonchalant person he was.
"Lo siento! I tend to get lost in my own thoughts a lot."
Crossing his arms, the man scoffed.
"You've got that right, bastard."
Antonio could have continued on his way. It was the normal thing to do—do something, apologize, and move on. He had an umbrella in his bag and it was already getting late. Yet, somehow, his feet wouldn't move. A believer in gut feelings, the Spaniard decided to stay put. They stood in silence for a while—his grumpy companion muttering incoherent words to himself and Antonio admiring the drenched scenery of the city.
"Great weather, huh?" Antonio commented with a content smile on his face. And he was telling the truth. New York—according to the Spaniard—was wonderful on rainy days. Turning to him, the auburn-haired man raised an eyebrow.
"You can't be serious. Do you not see those horrid things falling from the sky? That's called rain," Looking back out towards the street and under his breath, he added, "And right now it's ruining my life." Even over the loud din of raindrops, Antonio had picked up the last admission. He let his eyes peruse the fussy man next to him, who wore a scowl more that Antonio would have liked him to. The man had a beautiful face, after all.
Antonio smiled and looked up at the sky. "I think it's wonderful. It renews the beauty of its surroundings and washes away all the bad feelings of the world. The sun is always the most beautiful after a shower such as this." It was the younger man's turn to take a long look at Antonio before he turned away and snickered.
"Sure. Freaking optimists…"
"What's your name?" Antonio asked before he could stop himself. At the Spaniard's inquisitive gaze, the auburn-haired man blushed. How could someone's blush be so cute?
The man clicked his tongue. "Apparently your mother didn't teach you about strangers. I don't even know you, bastard."
"Eh? Oh yes! Mi madre told me that strangers are just friends you haven't met yet! It's okay to be shy or embarrassed."
He arched an eyebrow. "What are we, five? I can't believe you expect to be in the city with that attitude," The man huffed out before his eyes flashed, "And I am not shy or embarrassed, dammit!"
A rosy tint on his cheeks suggested otherwise. Cute.
Antonio laughed before conceding.
"All right, all right. I believe you."
They fell into silence for what felt like hours, neither sure of what to say next. The wind picked up, and the man next to Antonio roughly shoved his shivering hands into the pockets of his black blazer.
"What are you waiting for?" Antonio inquired as he took note of the man's clothes, which were a little too nice for an everyday stroll.
"None of your business." The man growled out automatically. Despite his standoffish attitude, Antonio couldn't help but notice the man's trembling shoulders, gritting teeth, and troubled expression.
As if a light bulb in his mind had suddenly turned on, it all clicked.
An object poked the younger man's side, causing him to gasp and jump away. His scowl turned into an expression of confusion as he stared at the small, red umbrella in the Spaniard's hand. His eyes trailed up slowly to look at Antonio's face for answer. Still receiving no answer, Antonio smiled and held it up towards him.
"Here. You should have just mentioned you didn't have an umbrella!"
"Th-that… that's not… I don't need it!" Antonio chuckled at the man's struggle to compose himself.
"Come on. Take it!" The man sent him a menacing glare, as if he was trying to scare the Spaniard away. Antonio didn't waver, and only grinned even more as the man relaxed and slowly took the red object. Opening it up and testing it out, the man seemed satisfied with it before glancing at Antonio.
"Lovino." He simply said as he rested the open umbrella on his shoulder. Antonio cocked his head.
"Qué?"
"My name," Lovino mumbled quietly. Understanding, the Spaniard visibly brightened.
"Oh! I'm Antonio. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo!" Lovino muttered something about his name being a mouthful before stepping out from the protection of the awning. The rain immediately assaulted the top of the umbrella as Antonio watched the man begin to walk away.
A panic began to rise within the Spaniard. His mind told him he should say something—stop him, before he would be gone forever.
Yet before he could even open his mouth, Lovino stopped and looked at him with those brilliant golden eyes.
"Are you coming or not?"
Antonio blinked before a huge grin took over his face.
Yes, there was something special about the rain—something almost fateful.
And he wasn't one to argue with that.