Right now I'm on a little project about the exploration of love. In this fic I'm working the slow dying of love. I don't think it will take much though, we'll see. I could have choosen any other of my OTPs to do this fic but one of my favourite characters is Spain and I find that many people treat him as any Happy-Go-Lucky without much wits, but in Hetalia he isn't such thing, remember the episode when he warns Italy about how lucky he is being on his own right before Holy Rome took him. So, I made this an Spamano fic to add some depth to the character, came on, he deserves it. No more preambles! Please, read and review, every review is a warm hug to me.
The clicks of forks and knives were all the noise coming from the table that night, and every night since some time now. God bless TV, as it has filled so many silences that didn't want to be disturbed. The push of a chair anounces the end of this symphony of what was supposed to be there, but there's not. I hate this song so much. I've listened to it so many times that if I have one more night of it I'll just stand up and leave, I promise. And there it cames, the words, every night the same ones, that break the silance and put a conclusion to the piece.
"I've finished, are you coming to bed?" Said Lovino.
"I never lose hope" I muttered, head bowed. At first, when things about us started to go wrong, it was meant to have a double meaning. On one hand, I never lost hope of beating my insomnia, on the other hand, I never lost hope of bringing back some love to our relationship. Now it has lost all meaning.
Lovino turned around without really listening to my words and headed into the bedroom. However, I didn't intend to follow him, it was all too hard to lay besides him like if he was a stranger. Instead, I got up, turned off the telly and started to wash the dishes. As the water run down my hands I run through the possibilities of what could I do to pass the hours untill morning. I guess I could read, but no, I disregarded that option long ago, I got too excited reading and the little sleep I could have found I lost, and that night I needed to rest. I could knit, I did for a few months long ago and it was fine, I became sleepy and relaxed. But Lovino joked so much that I stopped. Those were the good old times... Anyway we don't use sweaters and we don't have much room to keep useless things in this tiny appartment in Naples... Not like in our former house in Spain... but no, I don't want to think about that right now.
While I whipped my hands on a clean cloth I looked towards the closed door of the bedroom, then sat on the sofa and sighed. When did everything started to go wrong? I remember when we met...
That night Madrid intended to gather as many foreigns currently in Spain as possible. It was called "El botellón internacional", what literally meant The international big bottle. Actually, "Big bottle" hasn't an official translation, it is an open-air drinking session that most of times wasn't entirely legal, mostly because of the underaged getting drunk and that the place where this things can be held are very restricted so most of times Big Bottles are organised somewhere hidden rather than where it is permitted. The "Botellón" has a double function. On one hand it's a cheap way to drink good alcohol with your friends and avoid the bad and expensive drinks served in pubs. On the other hand, it is the perfect place to meet new people and introduce friends as the clubs and discos people go afterwards are too noisy to talk.
Tonight, it was an activity planned by the Town Hall as part of the "International Day" some new invention of the Mayor. Therefore, me and all my friends from the Erasmus programme were there.
"Hey Tony, Francis, come here, the awesome me is going to introduce you to my almost awesome stiff little brother!" Gilbert's pale face was already getting red and his speech, clumsy. "This is Ludwig and his boyfriend Feliciano, and the grumpy one besides is Lovino, Feliciano's big brother" Gilbert went on pointing straight at them and Lovino looked like he wanted to bite the finger off.
"A pleasure" I said, begining to get drunk myself. "Why have you came?"
"I'm wondering the same" Lovino muttered, but no one seemed to pay attention.
"Ve~ I like Spain very much and Ludwig wanted to visit his brother"
The conversation went on in a blur of drinks, shouts, sentences half-finished, and jokes and anecdotes; but I wasn't listening. I was curious about that boy who seemed willing to be anywhere else and didn't deign to talk to the others. Finally I approached him.
"Hey, Lovino, you don't look very happy here" I smiled.
"You don't say" He snorted.
"Is there a reason for that attitude?"
He seemed taken aback. "No, not really, I just don't like being surrounded by extrangers"
"But you aren't doing anything to change that"
For a moment the heavily accented Italian looked at a loss of words but soon enough he out burst annoyed. "Are you suggesting I should chit chat with everyone here when I could just stay at home?"
A crazy idea came to my mind. With a crooked smile I looked at him. "Plan B, then" I grabbed his forarm and made a run for it. Before the bewildered young boy could complain we were a few hunderds of meters away.
"What the hell is going on with you? Are you mad or something? Wha-"
"You didn't want to be there, did you?" I interrupted a little breathless. "Madrid at night looks great. When did you arrived? Have you seen the city already?"
"Actually no, we landed at 8 pm. My brother insisted on sightseeing but I wanted to rest. In fact, I'm here because Feliciano made me promise I would come if he let me stay for the rest of the evening."
His hands in his pockets and his eyes on the pavement, Lovino walked beside me under the lamp-lights back into the city centre. After a few seconds of silence I smiled at his frown. "I'm happy your brother is so stuborn."
The rest of the night we spent strolling in Madrid until the phone calls of a very preocupied Feliciano and the mischievous Gilbert and Francis gathered us with them. That was the first time Lovino and I were a WE. And I loved every second of it. When we started dating and I asked him about what he thought of me that night Lovino said playfully he hated me for disarming him with those obvious questions no one had asked before, but adored my smile. Now, he doesn't care for what I say and never look at my smiles. Hatred won the battle at the end.
Until the small hours of the night I replayed as much as I could remember of our conversation that night. Finally I slept a light sleep, thinking. What on earth have gone wrong between us?
Well, here it is. Generally speaking everything I told about the customs in "botellón" in Spain is 100% true and self experienced, but as far as I'm concerned, there is no "international day" the way I descirbe it. I say this because I like to destroy false stereotypes and inform about Spanish nowadays culture.
One last thing, maybe you noticed, this Lovino isn't a cusser because there isn't going to be any rated M situation and I prefered to keep it a T rather than a soft M.
Let me now if you liked it, or if you didn't, every review is precious to me. If I don't recieve any I'll give up this story eventually.