After the final sounds of battle died away, Romano was left shocked, frightened, and utterly alone. He could see no sign of that French wino bastard, but he could not see any sign of his brother, either. As the dust settled, he could see a silhouette approaching, and it slowly crossed his mind that perhaps he should ask this stranger for help. When he began to consider this idea, though, alarm bells instantly went off in his head. How could he be so stupid? He was on a battlefield, for Christ's sake! It could as easily be friend as foe, so he decided to stay put and lie low instead of drawing attention to himself.

The figure continued to approach, and the small Italian tensed. Soon he could see detail through the settling dust, and a head of dark, curly hair, paired with two brilliant green eyes, were visible.

"Hola." The stranger called out with a smile, though the effect came off as more maniacal, as he was practically covered in blood. He waved his axe around a little, in a way that could have been an attempt at friendly, but just made the young boy cringe.

"Che cazzo fai…? Ottenga via!", he cried as he backed away. Unfortunately, he tried to move both feet at once, and promptly tripped.

"N-non! L-l-lasciare!" He started crying, and the Spaniard halted.

"E-Eh? You're so cute! D-Don't cry, or I-I'll start… s-start… Wahhh!" A strange sight it was to behold, as a dusty, bloody Spaniard, in full battle gear, complete with pole-axe, burst into tears.

Because he had made a little kid cry.

Romano stopped, suddenly, and it was his turn to be curious. And a fair bit frightened, too. Was this man mentally stable? If not, then he had better leave. Does anybody want to be around a crazy person, even more so with them armed? But as he inched backwards, the man looked up suddenly.

"Oh, hi! I'm Antonio, also known as the country of Spain! But I claimed you, so you can call me Boss! Or Boss Spain! Whatever you want! Did I mention how cute you are? I'm really glad to meet you!"

Vaffanculo, maybe he was insane. Nobody could do that much of a complete emotional change without being mentally damaged in some sort of way.

"Cornuto. I'm bleeding now, because of you." He hissed, complete with gesture. The other looked thoughtful as he translated with his limited Italian.

"Sí, sí! I am Spain, a bullfighter! Didn't I just tell you that…? Oh, You are hurt? I'm so sorry! I will kiss it better?"

Before Romano could even open his mouth, he felt a warm mouth over the graze on the side of his leg. He could feel himself getting warmer, so much warmer. Had the sun finally come out? He could not tell, as he had squeezed his eyelids shut in embarrassment. Why did he feel like this? He felt unable to do anything, but when a rogue tongue flicked out to taste his blood he jerked his leg upwards as hard as he could. The older man looked up with a guilty look.

"Oops, I guess I got carried away…" He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his head.

"You taste really good, by the way. And you kick hard."

Romano could feel himself turning even redder, if that was even possible. He still did not know what about this man was making him react this way, but this time it was either anger or embarrassment. He gave a harsh glare, for emphasis, but was baffled when he was only laughed at in response.

"Mi Tesoro, you could anger bulls with that shade of red! That's it, what you are! You'll be my treasure."

Again, Romano felt a strange feeling flow through him. But this was not a heavy feeling like the other. This was a light, airy emotion that made him feel like he was rising upwards, as corny as that may sound. It was wonderful, but there was a part of him that wanted to stifle it, a part that feared this new feeling. He pushed all those confusing thoughts back through his mind. Damn it, he was too hungry and tired to deal with this. He sighed deeply. He just wanted a nap; it was well past siesta time.

He curled up to the strange man, Antonio the tomato jackass, as he would get to know him as, and sighed again as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep almost immediately. It had been a young day, and he was not a very large or strong country.

Oh wow. My first story! -squee- And I thought I was too much of a lazy bum for this kind of stuff! Anyways, Alex, you are my Spain, and "GTFO Jackass" just means "Cuddle me? ;A;" in Romano! 3 I will post more chapters after these painkillers wear off and I am not so strange! Felize Cumplianos! ... Sort of. OTL.

I will post translations later, but just as a warning, cornuto is actually a really bad swear in Italian. It's like... Calling someone Satan. And a lot of Italian people are relegious. So... Bad. I don't want you to get in trouble on my part. ;A;