A/N: This story was written for the 100 Themes Challenge on DeviantArt...
Characters do not belong to me...they belong to Hidekazu Himaruya.
"Romano! I am home!"
Spain threw open the door to his home, half expecting little Romano to run into the room, cursing. What Spain met up with was silence.
"Roma?" asked Spain loudly as he sat his battle axe against a nearby wall. Spain removed his coat and tossed it onto the couch. The tall, tanned nation removed his boot before he ascended the stairs.
"Romano?" Spain yelled once he got to the top of the stairs. The older nation opened the door that led to the library. There, Spain found little Romano lying in the floor, lightly snoring. The little boy's head was propped up with a small throw pillow and in his lap rested an open book, one of the Spanish nation's classics. Spain smiled as he quietly shut the door behind him.
"Tomato Bastard!" Romano shouted shrilly as he slammed the older nation's front door open. The young Italian sauntered through the foyer towards the living room. Romano found Spain sitting in a chair, looking aimlessly out the window.
"Fucking bastard! Learn to answer your damn door when someone knocks!"
Spain looked up at a fuming Romano.
"You look like a tomato, Roma!" smiled Spain, "Too cute!"
Spain looked down at his feet, then back to the young nation standing before him. The taller nation knew he was going to regret saying what he needed to say.
"Romano, we cannot see each other anymore," whispered Spain. Romano stared at Spain in disbelief.
"What the fuck, bastard?" screamed the Italian, "Why the hell not?"
Spain sighed. He took Romano into his arms, half expecting Romano to fight the embrace. Instead, Romano cried into Spain's chest.
Romano sat down next to Veneziano, who was talking animatedly to the German nation on the other side of him.
Damn potato bastard, thought Romano as he opened up his binder. In the front of the binder was an envelope with Romano's human name written on the front. Romano looked at the envelope oddly before he looked at his watch. He had thirty minutes before the meeting reconvened. The older half of the Italian nation swiftly pocketed the envelope and got up to leave the room.
Once he was out in the corridor, Romano found a secluded spot and sat down, tearing open the envelope and taking out a folded piece of paper. Romano slightly gulped, unfolded the letter, and read it.
Dearest Lovino,
I still think about you. That night was the worse night of my life. My boss thought it would be best to separate us, but he thought wrong. I still love you and I want you to know that. I want to rebuild our relationship. My current boss says that it is an excellent idea. Now that I am allowed to do so, I wish for you to marry me one day. I love you always and forever, Lovino.
Te amo,
Antonio
Romano tried his best to fight back his tears and was losing the battle.
"Damn tomato bastard," muttered Romano as he gently folded the letter up and put it carefully in his jacket pocket.
"I still love you too, Espana," whispered Romano.
"I am glad, Romano."
The Italian looked up from his seat and found Spain standing in front of him, a single red rose dangling from his hand. Romano stood up.
"If you are still interested in having me," began Spain, handing the rose to Romano. The Italian took the flower almost graciously. It was a side of him only one person knew about and that person was standing before Romano.
Romano lightly smiled and nodded. Spain gave Romano his usual, cheesy grin and embraced Romano, kissing the shorter nation lightly on top of the head. Romano deeply inhaled, taking in the scent of tomatoes and spices, the scent of the one who came back for him after all this time.