Hello again peoples! I'm here posting yet another Spamano fic…. I never thought I'd write about a pairing quite so much.

This one is actually not completely written by me. It was a fic that my friend Alexandria (or ) started to write, gave up on, and passed off to me. I kept some of the parts that she wrote (the 1st person POV was her idea) and I feel like I should acknowledge her in this. Thank you~!

This is for you Alexandria~ Squigglies and all~ XP

Warning: Lovino is a bit more vulnerable and emotional in this fic, so he might seem a little OOC.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of the characters!

I don't know when it started... And I don't know when it will end... But I think I fell in love with that damn tomato bastard, Antonio.

If I had to pick a time where this... this stupid feeling for him may have begun, I would have to say around the first time we met when I was young. I remember over hearing that the damn 'sun kissed' Spaniard wanted Feliciano over me. Everyone wanted my brother over me, and it wasn't difficult to understand why. He was better at everything; better at cooking, painting, cleaning. He was better at cheering people up, better at... At being naturally happy. He was just better than me. And I had felt jealous. I still do… especially when it comes to my Anto – I mean, the damn tomato bastard.

I scribbled words in my sketchbook. The old dull gray-paged sketchbook was already half filled with jealous or confused rants and several sketches of whatever I felt like drawing – mostly drawings of Spain's garden or of... of people, one person in particular... Currently, I was just venting his feelings of a passed memory that still burned. Remembering how I felt whenever someone praised my brother... It hurt me. And right now I just felt the jealousy burn inside my chest, making tears form on the rims of my eyes. I placed the pencil in between the book, closed it slowly and delicately, and wiped my eyes with the cuff of my sleeve.

"Lovino? Lovino, where are you?" A voice laced in a Spanish accent spoke. I heard a shuffle through the tall grass and vines and who appeared was... him. He was wearing his loose white shirt and soft fabric tan trousers. His boots were tied in a hurried mess and his brown mix of wavy and curly hair held a few leaves. The setting sun was reflecting off his toned skin, which was slightly covered in sweat from working in the garden all day. But the sweat didn't look disgusting – as it would on oh say... America? – it actually made his skin shine in the sunlight, making him look even more handsome than he normally was. If that was even possible. And to add to his features, his big green eyes sparkled once he found me sitting by the tree.

"Lovino! There you are~" Antonio chimed, moving out of the thick tall grass and making his way towards me. I placed my old sketchbook on the grass patch on my left side and yawned, covering my mouth as tiresome tears formed in my eyes. I wiped the wetness away and glared at the smiling idiot that was now about to take a seat on the grass next to me, under my favorite shady tree in the garden. The Spaniard sat down and grinned at me, kind of in a childlike way.

"Why are you so happy, bastard?" I said as I picked up the leather-bounded sketchbook, opened it to the page where the pencil was, and began to sketch the messy – and yet still attractive – Spaniard in front of me. I knew he wouldn't dare try to peek at what I was doing. The first and last time he had tried to look had gotten him a bruised cheek. And no, I didn't feel bad about it. Well… okay, maybe a little, but it was his fault for invading my privacy like that.

"Well I got to spend all day in the fields with my precious tomatoes, and now I get to spend time with you too, Lovi!" he exclaimed. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the first part of what he said and tried in vain to ignore the way my heart melted at the second. Instead, I focused on capturing that huge grin of his on my paper. My response was a muttered, "That's dumb logic, but whatever."

"Ahaha, Lovi~ Do you know what today is?"

I stopped the movement of my wrist and glared at the page as I tried to remember what day it is. Obviously it was something important if Antonio bothered to mention it to me, so just... What was it, what was so special about today? It wasn't Antonio's birthday, and it wasn't my birthday, therefore it wasn't Feliciano's either. It wasn't a special holiday. What was today? Since I had a hard time remembering, and I was sure it showed on my face, I simply said, "...Thursday."

"Well… No, it's Saturday. But that's not what I meant! Do you not remember?"

"It's Saturday?"

"Lovi…" The tone of his voice told me to focus; I sighed, and he decided to give me a hint. "Think back fifteen years ago."

Fifteen years ago? Fifteen years ago was about the time I was taken in under Spain-

"Oh."

Spain beamed at my realization, even though it obviously wasn't as enthusiastic as he had probably been hoping for. He looked at me expectantly; apparently he also wanted me to say it out loud.

"That's when I first came here to live with you…" I murmured, resuming my sketch of him. I struggled with drawing that mess of curls on his head the same way I'm sure he struggled with brushing it every morning. My brow furrowed in concentration.

"Yes, that's right! I remember it well and… hey, Lovi, are you even listening to me?" I didn't have to look up to know that he was pouting.

"Yeah, yeah, tomato bastard, I'm listening."

"But you're not even looking at me."

With a sigh, I lifted my head and met his eyes. They were so vivid and always held so much emotion. Right now I could see joy and a hint of nostalgia in his eyes as he began to recount the story of the first day I spent here at his house. I stared into his emerald eyes for a few more moments, ignoring both the story and the blush making its way to my face. My fingers twitched and I dropped my head again, rapidly sketching in the eyes of my drawing. Antonio stopped talking mid-sentence, surprised by my sudden actions. Finally curiosity seemed to get the best of him because he asked, "What are you drawing there, Lovino?"

I shut the sketchbook closed immediately. "Nothing."

"But I know you were drawing something! I just want to know what it is since you seemed to be really into it."

I glared at him, holding the book to my chest defensively. "It's none of your damn business."

"Okay, okay..." Antonio sighed and shook his head fondly. "Fifteen years and you're still just as stubborn as ever."

I looked away. Why did he have to keep reminding me of how long it's been?

"It's kind of funny, you know. You've grown and changed so much over the years, Lovi, but you're personality hasn't changed one bit~"

"Well excuse me for staying consistent," I bit out sarcastically. He laughed and reached out to ruffle my hair, making sure to avoid touching my curl. Last time he did… well, let's just say it was worse than when he tried to peek at my sketchbook. Still, I frowned at him.

"Ah, don't worry, Romanito. I think it's nice that you're still the same person. Fifteen years is a long time, and we nations can grow quickly in that time. A lot of people might be totally different after that many years…"

Fifteen years. How many of those fifteen had been pining after the idiot sitting in front of me? Seven? Eight? Possibly even ten? I slowly reopened my book and picked up the pencil. It took a lot of focus to keep my hand from shaking as I resumed my drawing.

"It's a miracle that I've been here that long," I said softly, half hoping he wouldn't hear me, but he did.

"Ah, what do you mean by that, Lovino?"

I swallowed and tried to focus on keeping my hand steady as I told him truthfully, "Well, not everyone enjoys this consistent personality of mine. Most people give up on me after a couple of years."

"Ah," he said, finally understanding what I meant. He spoke softly. "Well I'm not most people, so I guess that makes me the exception."*

I remained silent. Sure, he dealt with me for longer than most people, but that didn't mean he loved me. Even if it's been fifteen long years… damn, I was so pathetic. Why the hell did I have to love this stupid bastard? Why the hell did I have to fall in love at all, especially with someone who would never even understand what I feel?

I stared down at drawing of the smiling bastard in front of me. It was the best one yet. I had somehow managed to capture his natural joy in the huge smile and twinkling eyes. His body was lean with smooth muscles, his baggy shirt hiding the well defined muscles on his torso. His hair was a neat mess. The only problem with the drawing was on the face, right on the cheek. It was… it was a tear.

I was confused. I hadn't drawn a tear; besides, that one actually looked wet. Something rolled down my face and hit the page. Another tear. I realized with a start that I was crying. Yet I made no move to try and salvage the drawing or wipe my eyes. Instead I stared at it, and I marveled at how different it looked with tears on Antonio's face. Somehow, the eyes didn't seem as alive, and the smile seemed hard and fake. The joyful likeness of Antonio that I had drawn had somehow become an image of a miserable man hiding behind a happy mask.

For some reason, this made the tears flow faster.

"L-Lovi?" Antonio's concerned voice cut through my daze. I glanced up unthinkingly and then remembered that I was still crying when I saw his shocked and worried face. Oh no…

The sketchbook landed with a thud on the grass as I jumped up and began to run. There was no way in hell I wanted him to see me like this. I heard him shout and begin to chase after me but he knew as well as I did that there was no way that he could catch up to me. I was too fast. The tears blurred my vision, and the darkness didn't help, but I didn't need to see to know the way to the garden. My feet carried me deep into it and I kept going until I finally collapsed in a section of tall tomato plants.

I don't know how long I sat there crying, but I do know that the moon was high in the sky when I heard rustling coming from a few yards away. I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep quiet.

"Romano!" Antonio shouted. "Lovino, mi querido! ¿Dónde estás?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. I really did not want him to find me here, crying like a baby. I curled up into a ball, like a little kid failing at hide and go seek, and hoped that I wouldn't be found. The sound of approaching footsteps and a light Spanish accent crushed that hope.

"Lovino?"

I remained silent and still. Maybe he'd eventually go away.

"Please look at me. I'm not leaving until we talk."

Or not.

"You dropped this," he said, poking my knee with something. "And I… um, well, don't be upset but… I looked through it."

Immediately my head shot up to find him looking at me with sad eyes and cradling my sketchbook in his arms. I could feel my entire face turn a deep shade of red, and I felt like crying again. I was tired of being so weak though, and I snatched it from instead. I used it to smack him on the back of the head.

"Y-you fucking bastard! I can't believe you! This is mine, i-it's personal!"

Antonio smiled softly. "I know. That book, Lovino… is that how you really feel?"

I stared down at the ground. I was such an idiot for leaving that lying there. Now he was going to think I was creepy and pathetic and never want to see me again.

"Please, Lovi, is that book your real feelings?"

"…So what if it is? What then?" I bit my lip, afraid to hear the answer.

"Then I'd be able to do this."

My confusion lasted for only a second when Antonio brought his fingers underneath my chin to tilt my head up. Our lips met in a kiss, and I was paralyzed from conflicting emotions. My head felt dizzy from the strange mixture of bliss, shock, and fear. Startled, my instincts kicked in; I pushed Antonio away. My fingers rested on my still tingling lips.

I opened my mouth to croak something unintelligible, and any words died in my throat when I looked at Antonio. He smiled a smile I had seen quite a few times in the past. It was the one that always had something off about it; I had never been able to figure out what though, before now.

It was a fake smile.

Hard and forced and never quite reaching his eyes, I was surprised I had never noticed it before. And his eyes… they were glassy with what I was guessing to be unshed tears. However, the eeriest thing of all was how much it reminded me of my drawing. He looked miserable. I was so busy studying this heartrending side of Antonio that I jumped when he spoke.

"Even now, Lovino… Even now, when I'm trying to convey my feelings towards you, after finding out that you love me, too… Even now you push me away?"

I sat there dumbly, my mind and my heart both struggling to process what was going on.

"I love you, Lovino. I love you so much. Only you. And according to this book, you feel the same. If this is true, then why won't you let me love you?"

I blinked rapidly, feeling more tears forming in my eyes. I hesitated and stuttered, frustrated with myself for not being able to Antonio a straight answer.

"Why, Lovino? Why have we both had to suffer for so long?"

I shot up, making Antonio fall back in surprise. I ignored him and the tightening in my chest as I began to shout. "Because I'm fucking scared, okay! I was scared of a lot of things! I didn't want to lose you. I was scared of you, and that someone would steal you away from me, and that you wouldn't feel the same way I did, and dammit, I was even scared of my own feelings. I'm not used to dealing with emotions like this, okay? I... I'm just scared."

I brought my clenched fists up to my eyes and fiercely tried to rub away the tears that had finally spilt over during my rant. I barely noticed Antonio getting up until he gently pulled my hands away from my face. His eyes bored into mine and he smiled softly. Unlike before, this one was genuine and reassuring. I exhaled, already feeling relaxed just by looking at him.

"Nothing and no one can ever take me away from you," he told me. "It's okay to be afraid sometimes Lovi; I get scared, too. Do you know what's the one thing that has terrified me for years?"

I shook my head.

"Being rejected by you."

My eyes widened. That explained his expression when I had pushed him away earlier. He had taken a chance, put his heart out on the line, and I had pushed him away. I had basically made his fear come true. I felt so guilty by this knowledge and did the only thing I could think of to make up for it.

I grabbed his face firmly with both hands, brought it to mine, and gave him a brief but sincere kiss. When I pulled back, I looked into his startled but bright eyes. I felt my lips curve up into a tiny smile, and for once I didn't try to stop it. I took a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away, I didn't mean it." I hesitated, but looking at his wide grin gave me confidence. "I love you, Antonio…"

"I love you, too, Lovino. Te amo, ahora y siempre," he murmured before kissing me gently. He pulled away and gave me a loving smile, telling me once again he loved me without saying a word. That was his own personal way of showing his feelings: through smiles. I still needed to show my affection my way.

"Antonio?"

"Si, mi amor?"

"…Can I draw you?"

Antonio glanced down at my hopeful expression and chuckled softly. "Of course."

He didn't ask why. He didn't need to.

Without saying another word, he handed me my supplies, and we sat down quietly. That night I drew the best sketch of him ever.

And we were both smiling the entire time.

So, what did you guys think? (Especially you, Alexandria!) Did you like it? Well, whether you liked it or not, please let me know what you thought in a review~