My first couple's oneshot. Feel free to ask me to continue or do a specific couple. If you want me to continue, PM me with what you want to happen.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
It was a blissful sunny day, the birds singing, the butterflies nestling themselves in thriving greenery-
"SPAIN, YOU FUCKING TOMATO BITCH, GIVE ME BACK MY PHONE!" Romano was chasing Spain around the blocks, Spain laughing through the phone's contents, some pictures Romano had no idea were retrieved.
"My cute little baby Roma in the bathtub," Spain cooed over an old picture.
"SHUT UP!"
"Oh, and another one. Miss Hungary dressed you and Italia up in matching dresses and bonnets-"
"I WILL MURDER YOU WHEN I GET TO YOU-"
"Aw, I forgot this one, when you were kissing a picture of Belgium in our house-"
"DECAPITATE YOU-"
"And when you were cry-" Spain halted, driving Romano into him.
"Spain?" Romano was confused at the turn of expression.
They both saw another picture of Romano, crying, obviously, but for what reason that made Spain so... Twitchy?
Romano saw the candles and immediately remembered...
It was a cold summer midnight, and Romano was waiting for Spain outside of his house. He had collected a box of chocolates and a bouquet of roses from France's lover's shop, forming a circle with tomato scented candles by the single lamppost on the street. Spain pulled up in his car, worn out from his day of work in his café.
"Spain... I would like to ask... Wouldyougooutwithme?" Romano blurted. Spain looked at Romano, his brows driven together. "Roma, why would you ask such a thing, my sweet tomato?" "I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR FUCKING TOMATO! I WANT TO BE YOUR LOVER!" Romano's voice echoed off of the houses. A single candle flickered out, and to Romano's and Spain's luck, France didn't come barging into their company.
"But Roma, it wouldn't be so..." "So what?" Romano spat.
"But... It just wouldn't work." Spain said, slowly backing away.
"Spain..." Romano said in a warning voice. But Spain turned and trudged into his house, as if stuck in quicksand. "YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING LONG IT TOOK ME TO FUCKING EVEN FIND A LAME TOMATO SCENTED CANDLE?!" Romano hollered.
Silence.
"DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TEASING THAT FUCKING BASTARD FRANCE GAVE ME WHEN HE SAW I WAS SHOPPING FOR YOU?!"
Silence.
"DO YOU KNOW... How much I care about you?" Romano's voice cracked. A tear drop fell, extinguishing a candle at his foot.
Silence. Romano could've sworn Spain was peeking through his curtains with his unwavering Madrid, but he didn't care. He kicked the box of chocolates sharply, and shuffled back to his house, muttering obscene threats.
Since then, Spain made the first move, offering him a churro and time to talk, but there was a distinctive air and chill when they brought up chocolate or Spain's house or candles or even tomatoes. They both avoided the lamppost, where Romano's feelings were spoken.