Hi! Merry Christmas! I remembered that you really liked SpaMano as well, and so I wrote something out though it did end up quite a bit longer and a little differently than you might expect! I hope that the rest of your day goes really well and that you really like this gift! It's hard to believe that time passes as quickly as it seems as its already December, and I've come to adore talking to you. I really hope that this makes you smile regardless of little bits of hurt/comfort thrown in. I'm still pretty early for Christmas, but regardless, have a very wonderful Christmas!
He'd been young when they'd first met, but yet he was far smarter than Antonio probably credited him with back then.
Spain would come home some days worse for wear, broken in spirit, mind, and body; he'd be ready to give up and yet Romano was always the first one to his side.
Emma used to be the one long before Lovino had really known him or cared; there was something about being there and seeing that spark in his eyes that just soothed a part of Antonio that no one else could reach.
He'd remembered the first time that his younger charge had rushed towards him, crying nearly as if he'd changed while his ward was away, it had reminded him of a smaller child then as he felt those arms loop around him, not nearly long enough to encase him entirely.
Spain's breath had caught whenever those hands accidentally brushed wounds and then those small hands guided him home and worked through cleaning those wounds as tears slowly ran dry under intense concentration.
He ushered the Italian to lay down beside him as it was the least that he could do for the child for taking the time to care for him when he wasn't worth it.
He was away so often that it took him a while to realize that Emma did not sleep in his bed anymore; she slept in another room, which room Spain did not know.
No one shared that bed with him anymore unless he ushered his young ward into it.
The Italian still struck him as bitter at times yet never in the moments that truly meant too much; he cared and expressed it in his own way.
It was endearing though Spain knew far too well that time had its way of passing and finding the Italian grown up so much had struck a cord in his heart and left it aching whether it was in some form of heart ache or some new type of feeling he did not know.
That feeling was the only thing to really warn him before Lovi, his Lovi, was declaring independence or at the very least wanted it.
It hurt to let him go yet he knew or had faith enough that things would work out on their own way, and it seemed as if they had finally when he felt the smallest of touches as fleeting as it was caring for him as if drinking now was a steady reminder of days when alcohol was not their biggest concern.
In a sense, it was more than Antonio had ever dreamed of having just to see that face above him as he awoke; there was a beautiful quality to how much older and how mature he'd grown.
There was a steady frown on Lovi's lips yet it was not quite like the worry of old that left the younger one anxious when things went rougher than Antonio could care to admit.
He watched the other before he asked hoarsely about the child he once knew; he didn't see him much that day though Spain had not meant that he longed solely for the child that he'd raised.
Spain wanted him, and it was terrifying with unexpectedness and the surprising intensity coupled within.
Wars would come and go, and moments could always be lost for good yet he stood now beside the man that made him feel whole.
Countries were more than their people and more than their governments and leaders, they were as unique as every individual was and contained a heart that could truly love.
Antonio's fingers looped around a hand that he loved far too much to not hold and ignored his sister beside him as after all, she'd probably tease him mercilessly later.
He held Lovino close once he was allowed and swooped in for a kiss that could turn knees to jelly if only he didn't nearly fall over at the momentum and get playfully nudged at the signs of being so enthusiastic in front of so many people.
Antonio grinned for once it seemed not as a nation with an alliance with Italy, but rather as a man in love and simply as that.
He ignored his sister's mutters later on that he was a bit slow to finally tie the knot; she'd grumbled probably in good nature that he and Romano were practically married before now.
Antonio wondered though were the past went after memories were made and helped shape people whether their past was lost or could be found again.
He didn't ask Lovi though.
Right now, he was living in the present where a slow dance molded into a spicy and electrifying ballroom dance for their wedding that they were both reluctant to pull away from.
Smiles felt as if they could last a lifetime, curled up as they were.