Citrus Wishes
No one could deny that today was a glorious day for gardening. Spain wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand as he stood hand on hip, vest-top clinging to his frame and wide straw hat covering his head from the sun. Yes, it was a very good day for gardening, and the day had been made even better by the discovery of something unexpectedly tasty.
In a corner of Spain's large back garden, a tiny lemon orchard had been found yielding fruit. Despite the amount of paperwork on his desk, Spain decided that he should investigate what the gardener had reported and take a break from all this administration. Donning his gardening gloves, hat and secateurs, Spain had very little expectations. He had been greatly surprised to find one of his old orchards still alive, especially as it had been many years since he ventured into that particular section of his garden.
Initially, Spain had thought this tiny orchard too over-grown to use and had considered gifting it to one of his gardeners to see what they could do with the mess. However, after cutting away various branches and pulling up weeds, he had discovered that there were lemons growing amongst the trees. The orchard was small – altogether there were only about ten trees. If Spain was honest, his tomato garden was his pride and joy, but it was good to try his hand at growing other fruits, even if his intentions were not always so firm.
The sun was warm against Spain's back as he stood surveying his tiny orchard. He was mildly surprised that his lemon trees had grown so well, considering how he had been neglecting them for a while. Secateurs in his gloved hands, he should have started work trimming back the branches and picking the lemons that were ripe.
But Spain was troubled. He stood a few steps away from his former ward, watching Romano stretch upwards and tug at a particularly stubborn lemon, cursing loudly as the fruit stayed put on the branch. His white linen shirt was flapping gently in the faint breeze, occasionally lifting upwards to expose his olive skin. Sweat trickled down his temple as he grit his teeth and pulled harder, muscles showing along his arms and shoulders. When had he gotten so big? It seemed only yesterday that he had arrived at Spain's home, seeming so scared and angry at everything. In the bright sunlight, he looked almost angelic.
Spain's heart was thudding loudly at the sight of Romano. It felt as if it would burst out of his ribcage, yet at the same time it felt... heavy. Thoughts that he didn't want to have had crept into his mind, tempting and enticing him into illicit acts. Spain pushed them away, reminding himself that he was a nation with responsibilities to his ward, but somehow those bad urges always managed to sneak their way back into his brain. His green eyes glazed over as he lost himself in troubled thoughts.
It hurts Romano. It hurts when I look at you. Do you see how much you torment me by just being near to me?
A wave of sadness tinged with pain wash over Spain as his eyes dropped to the ground. I want to protect you, I want to wrap you inside a blanket of security and never let you feel fear or pain. I want to keep you all to myself and let no one see your beautiful smile. I want to push you to the wall and ravish you with my bare hands. I want to hear you breathe my name as I make you mine.
And I can't stop thinking these thoughts. My feelings for you... they are all contradictions. I want to make you strong to others, yet I want to make you weak to me. I want you to be confident and care-free, yet I want you to confide all your insecurities to me. I want to see you unburdened by duties, yet bound to me freely.
Why? Why can't I stop these thoughts and feelings? Why can't I love you simply and purely, without the mess and mayhem that I wish for? I wish I could love you... I wish I could...
"Hey! Are you listening to me? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
With a shake, Spain returned to the present. Romano's face was inches from his, amber eyes staring into green. It took all of Spain's control not to lean forwards and press his lips against Romano's.
"Sorry Romano-"
"I didn't come here to do all of this myself, the least you could do is help me! You got sun-stroke already?" Romano yelled, slapping a hand to Spain's forehead.
"I'm sorry, I was just spacing out a bit," he said with a weak smile, finding more enjoyment than he should in Romano's touch. Dreaming of you... again...
Romano humphed and pulled his hand away, much to Spain's disappointment.
"Fucking snap out of it and help me! It's your garden after all!" Romano snarled, sweeping his arm at the lemon trees. Several large branches lay on the ground, snapped clean off the trunk. Lemons were still attached to the branches on the ground. Spain pretended to care, sighing dramatically and shaking his head.
"Oh Romano," Spain muttered as he walked over to the fallen branches, Romano on his heels. "How will I make lemon pie if you insist on destroying the trees?"
Romano bristled. "If you could stop day-dreaming you could have done it yourself! And I don't like lemons anyway!" he shouted, crossing his arms like a petulant child and scowling as he stopped next to Spain.
Spain merely smiled at him, used to his outbursts. "Never mind Romano, the trees had to be cut back anyway. And the lemons are fine too. You did an alright job. Boss is impressed."
At his reply, Romano huffed and turned his face away. Spain smiled at him, grateful that he hadn't been more persistent about his day-dreaming. Lately, Spain had found his thoughts wandering far more frequently than they used to.
"Let's stop for lunch," Spain said with a smile. He ruffled Romano's hair, despite the complaints that reached his ears. His hair felt so soft. "I'll make some pasta this time; I know you're getting a little bored of paella. We'll have lemon pie for desert tonight."
"Do whatever you want, I don't care," Romano grumbled, pulling away from Spain.
If only I could Romano...if only I could.
0O0
The rest of the day passed quickly for Spain. He and Romano had cleared the rest of the orchard had collected as many lemons as possible. Lemons in arms, they had made their way back to the house for lunch, careful not to drop any. Twice Romano had a rogue lemon try to sneak its way out of his hold, which made Spain laugh and Romano scowl. As Spain dropped in lemons into the sink for washing, he found himself wishing he could find a way to make Romano stop scowling and a familiar pain flared in his heart. Romano said nothing as Spain made pasta for lunch and Spain couldn't bring himself to make small-talk to fill the void.
With lunch over, Spain had returned to his paperwork. For two hours, he worked tirelessly, signing documents, filling papers, scanning letters, proof-checking, re-writing, counter-signing... When his eyes could take no more words, he decided now would be the perfect time to make lemon pie. He had intended for Romano to help him, but when he found Romano napping on the sofa, he hadn't the heart to disturb such a cute sight.
It had been a while since Spain had made anything that involved lemons. As he tugged a cookbook down from the top shelf of the book case, several others attempted to fall to the floor. One particularly old book landed with a loud thud and Spain winced, waiting for Romano to bolt awake and curse Spain for his idiocy. When nothing happened, Spain sighed and hurriedly pushed the book back where it belonged. Romano shifted on the sofa and muttered in his sleep.
You still amaze me, even now, Spain thought as he stood, book in arm watching his angel sleep. He dared to lean closer and trace a finger along Romano's cheek. When Romano grumbled, he bolted away into the kitchen, the painful ache in his heart present again.
After several trials and errors, Spain successful made lemon meringue pie. By the time the pie had been made and the kitchen cleaned – Spain had practically trashed the place after the first three attempts, especially when trying to make the damn meringue! – Spain's stomach growled loudly. It was time to start dinner. Good thing Spain enjoyed cooking. Dinner was quickly prepared – paella again – and the table was set.
Now all Spain needed to do was wake Romano.
Spain's heart pounded in his chest as he made his way towards the still-sleeping Romano. He lay sprawled against the sofa, one leg on the ground and the other resting on the sofa arm. Before Spain realised it, he had leaned down over the sleeping nation and was trailing the line of Romano's jaw.
He looks perfect. His skin feels so soft under my fingertips. I am a terrible guardian, thinking these thoughts about my ward. Yet no matter how hard I try, they continue to plague me. I should ignore these urges and remain only his protector, that is my duty as a nation. And yet...
Spain's thumb traced Romano's lips, feeling the plumpness and the warmth of his breath. Romano grumbled in his sleep but Spain couldn't pull himself away. To be so close to the one he loved and yet so far... it was torture.
Why are you so cruel to me Romano? Do you know what your words and actions do to me? Do you realise how much I feel for you? Surely you must, why else would you taunt me? If only you could love me and let me love you, if you only you could want me, if only...
Romano's eyes flew open.
"The hell Spain! What are you doing?" Romano yelled, shoving Spain away. He landed on the floor with a loud thud, pain flaring along his back.
"Sorry Romano," he muttered, keeping his eyes down and rubbing his spine. "I was just trying to wake you for dinner."
"Don't get so close next time, it's creepy!" he said, storming off into the kitchen. Spain sighed and slowly pushed himself up off the floor, the familiar ache in his chest returning.
But I want to be close to you Romano... if only you'd let me...
0O0
The two nations ate dinner in silence. Spain didn't trust himself to speak and from the way Romano ate his food, he didn't want to talk either. When they were finished, Spain collected their plates and placed them in the sink, ready to be washed. With his back turned, Romano stated he didn't want any dessert. Spain nodded absent-mindedly, not wanting to start an argument, however he grew confused when Romano didn't move and seemed to grow more irritated at Spain lack of response.
Romano had gone to his room with a book and had told Spain he didn't want to be disturbed. Spain had nodded and smiled, which seemed to make Romano more irritated somehow. Spain shrugged as Romano left the room in a huff. If Romano was happy, that was all that mattered.
It was now 21:45 and Romano was still in his room. Spain had grown tired of watching endless documentaries on his TV. With a yawn and a stretch, he stood and turned off the TV and made his way upstairs to get ready for bed. Spain tapped lightly on Romano's door to check whether Romano was still awake. The nation shouldn't be; after all that gardening this morning, Spain imagined Romano would be ready to sleep for a week. When there was no answer, he gently pushed the door open, hoping he wasn't walking in on something he shouldn't – but also would very much like to see.
Instead, he found Romano already tucked into bed with a book in his hand. He had fallen asleep whilst reading. In the dim lamp-light, Spain could see a plate and fork resting on Romano's beside table. On the plate was a half-eaten slice of his lemon pie.
So he did like lemons after all... Spain could only smile as his heart twisted in his chest. Even when he told lies, Romano was cute.
He leaned down and gently pulled the book from Romano's grasp, placing the bookmark inside. Romano didn't move. Spain then reached over to switch off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, but eventually he could make out Romano's sleepy face. Gingerly, Spain stroked Romano's hair, careful not to wake him from his slumber. Emotions coiled and writhed within his chest, each one demanding he take action. He wanted to comfort, to nurse, to kiss, to fuck, to love, to hold and to watch all at the same time.
But he didn't dare. To do so would mean he could lose his love forever...
And that would truly break his heart.
Romano you can be so cruel. Look at you, sleeping so peacefully... you're like an angel. I wish I could make you understand how I feel, but I know how you would react. I know you too well to jeopardise our friendship that I have worked so hard to build. You are so sour, just like lemons, but I love you all the same. All I want is for you to be happy, and if that means I must suffer for it, then I'll endure anything for you.
With a wistful smile, Spain stood and pulled the bed sheets up to cover Romano's shoulders. He crept towards the door, trying not to make any noise. Romano stirred and muttered in his sleep as Spain pulled the door open and the hallway lights splayed across his face. Thankfully he didn't wake up as Spain eased himself out into the hallway. He glanced one final time at Romano, his brown-haired angel.
I'll endure... Anything...
As the door clicked shut, a single tear trickled down Spain's cheek.
