Yayz! First (actual) chapter up! Thanks for the alerts you guys already gave me! X3

Romano's POV

Endless rows of tomatoes stretched across the field. The blistering sun sent down sharp, hot rays of sunlight as Romano worked effortlessly in the field, carrying a heavy wicker basket as he transitioned between tomato plants. Some people may think that Romano and his brother couldn't do anything effortlessly because they think they were so useless, but they just didn't know them too well. Hell, Venenziano, his little brother and the Northern part of Italy even knocked Turkey out once with one hit when he tried to pollute their seas. That sure taught the bastard to mess with them.

Romano straightened his back up from the tomato vines and wiped sweat off his brow and he looked at the bursting tomato basket next to him feeling a twinge of satisfaction. Romano stood up and crossed his arms and looked out at the field in front of him. A slight breeze ruffled his dark brown hair as well was his slightly dirty gray t-shirt. Everything was so peaceful, even though everything looked the same. There was of course, the tomato field, a quaint pond in the distance, a suspicious looking woman staring at him, a-

Romano froze and whirled around, his amber eyes wide as he stared at the woman that was some distance away from him. Well, at least he thought it was a she. The person was totally decked out in black with a hood covering 'her' face and she was holding a peculiar object in her hands. Was there sand in that thing…?

After he got over his initial shock, anger coursed through him and Romano began to march over to her, fuming with his usual acquired Italian rage. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Romano demanded as he got closer to the figure. "Don't you know you're on private prop-" Romano's rant was abruptly cut off when his cell phone suddenly rang, scaring the shit out of him. He glanced down at the phone and then flicked his eyes up to meet the woman's…

But she was gone.

Romano looked around in confusion. She was nowhere to be seen in the field. There was no way that she could of ran away that fast (unless she was his brother) or have ducked down, since the tomato plants were to short.

The cell phone's ringing eventually became noticeable to his ears and he dug through his pants pockets and flipped the phone open, without bothering to check the caller I.D. The only people that called him was either the mafia or Spain. "Hello?"

Sure enough, a cheerful voice sounded from the device, nearly blasting Romano's ear drums. "Roma! Mi amour! How are you?" Romano blushed hard at the comment Spain made and his heart began to beat rapidly without his permission.

"A-asshole! I'm not you're love!" He spat into the phone. Romano could almost see Spain pout when he stated, "That's not very cute Lovi~" He scowled fiercely and tried hard to keep himself from spluttering a string of insults at Spain. Wait a minute. Why was he trying to restrain himself for this bastard?

"Moron! Don't even put my name and cute in the same sentence, tomato bastard!" Romano spat into the phone and to his annoyance, Spain only laughed, however.

"You are absolutely adorable, my Lovi! Say, can I come over later? France and Prussia are busy today so I thought that we could spend time with each other, just you and I." Romano blushed heavily at the last part. Just him and Spain… That didn't sound to bad… N-not that he was saying this because he was in love with the bastard, damn it!

…

Okay, so maybe that was a lie.

Let's back up a bit, shall we? Romano's been in love with Spain for some time, you see. It all started a long time ago when Romano was conquered by Austria. Romano was diagnosed with chorea as a child, so he constantly broke things in Austria's house. Not that Romano really minded, he hated the uptight nation, he reminded him of the mean nations that used to beat him when he was younger. Anyways, Austria eventually became sick of Romano's 'carelessness' and eventually sent him to Spain so he didn't have to deal with him. Romano didn't really care that he was being sent away from Austria. Good riddance to the bastard! However, he was nervous about meeting Spain at the time. After all, he was probably another one of those bastards that only wanted him for his land.

When Romano first saw Spain's chipper smiling face, he felt his heart skip a beat and his face warm up. Romano had never experienced these feeling before and they confused him at the time. He had no idea what he felt for the bastard, but he decided to make Spain's life a living hell. Romano lazed around and didn't do anything to try and get Spain to show his true colors but the bastard didn't seem to even be affected. As time went on, Romano began to develop feelings for Spain. Spain was nice to him when everyone else thought he was useless, he called him cute (even though he throws a fit every time Spain does), and he protected him from bastard's like Turkey. Whenever Romano was having a bad day, Spain would pop up and chant that ridiculous 'fusososososo' chant. The tanned man's gentle and warm smile helped him more than the incantation though…

C-Chigi! He's starting to think like a fucking high school girl! Romano tried to ignore his beating heart and he grumbled into the phone, "Fine… Asshole." He could almost picture him grinning from ear to ear when he said this.

"Alright! I'll see you later, mi tomato. I love you!" With that, the bastard hung up on him. Romano rolled his amber eyes and sniffed in an embarrassed indignant way. "Damn bastard." Suddenly, he remembered the women in black and looked around the tomato field to make sure no one was really there.

Nothing but the tomatoes.

Shifting uncomfortably, he leaned down uneasily and picked up his basket of tomatoes and started towards his house. When Romano was halfway there, he got the lingering suspicion that someone was watching him. His eyes flitted around him but he couldn't see anyone. He was alone. Regardless, Romano ran the rest of the way towards his house and tried to push away the thoughts of the woman.

?'s POV

The woman watched the country jog back towards his house, occasionally throwing glances over his shoulder. Trying to see if anyone was watching him. Which she was doing.

Her hands absent-mindedly played with a hourglass. She turned her head to look down at it. The bottom half of the object was almost completely full with sand while the top part had barely a teaspoon of sand left. The sand trickled through the narrow opening and to the bottom to join its brethren.

The woman glanced up and saw the personification of South Italy retreat into his house. She smiled and brought the hourglass up to her cheek and nuzzled the object, feeling her eyes glazing over with pleasure.

"Soon…" The woman murmured. "Soon…"

Byzantine's POV

It's so dark… Byzantine mused for the millionth time from her mostly vacant mind. Quite an obvious fact, but it was true. Darkness ruled the tiny cell room that kept the Byzantine Empire captive. Slight moisture leaked from the dark gray stone walls and dripped onto the bare floor. Byzantine was curled into fetal position against the wall, trying to ignore the fear gnawing in her stomach. She hated confined spaces almost as much as she hated him…

Byzantine moaned softly under her breath and dug her face deeper into the refuge between her knees and her chest. How long had she been locked in this room? She didn't know… it seemed like eternity. Actually, for all she knew, it could have been for eternity.

A creaking noise sounded from the front of the room and Byzantine lifted her dull, green eyes and stared at the heavy metal door. The door creaked open slightly, light cutting through the darkness like a hot knife through butter. The door swung open completely, slightly dazing Byzantine from the new source of light, and a man stepped into the room. His head was held high, though Byzantine could see that his silhouette was shifting uncomfortably in the light. The man hesitated and walked over to Byzantine and knelt down in front of the woman. Byzantine's eyes grew adjusted to the new light and almost instantly wished that she couldn't see anything again. He was here. Why did her least favorite person in the world have to come and visit her?

Byzantine could see the man's face was struggling to keep a neutral face, but his nervousness was bursting at the seams. He coughed into his fist uneasily at being in the presence of Byzantine and pulled a tanned hand through his messy brown hair, tousling it further. She couldn't really blame him for his uneasiness, as much as she hated him. Like, who couldn't be completely calm in the presence of a woman who had a giant freak out not too long ago?

The man and Byzantine stared at each other in silence, lifeless green eyes gazing into amber, until the man finally spoke, "That was some scene…" Tension filled the air and Byzantine clenched her hands into fists. Couldn't he quit with the small talk, state his business, and go?

The man ruffled his hair again, glancing away from Byzantine and said, "Look, Gena-"

"Byzantine." Byzantine interrupted him instantly when he used her human name. The man sighed and corrected himself. "Byzantine. You've been in here for quite some time, so I talked it over with the other countries and they all agreed that you've served your sentence. You can come out now."

The man waited for a response from the seemingly lifeless woman, but Byzantine remained silent. The man sighed and stood up, straightening his red tunic and battle armor. When he was about to turn and leave Byzantine, a person called out, "Leave her alone, Rome. She's still upset and won't answer to you." A woman with long brown hair entered Byzantine's line of vision. The woman was wearing a white toga similar to Byzantine's own, except that the woman's didn't have a medallion on her shoulder like she did.

Rome turned towards the newcomer and nodded reluctantly. "I suppose your right, Graecia. Though I wish she would speak to her own father…" He murmured that last part. The Great Roman Empire shuffled out of the room, leaving behind Graecia, also known as Ancient Greece, and the Byzantine Empire alone in the cell.

Graecia smiled at Byzantine and held out a smooth dainty hand out to her. "Come on now. Byzantium. World War II is over and all of your children, and my grandchildren, are safe." Byzantine's ears perked up at the news and felt relief wash over her. They were safe. Francis, Venenziano, Romano-

Byzantine felt her heart freeze at the thought of her son. Oh my god… How long have I been in here? What if his time has already ran out?

Graecia noticed Byzantine's anxiety and she frowned, tipping her head to the side in curiosity. "Byzantium? What's wrong-" Graecia's voice was cut off when Byzantine jumped to her feet and began to rush towards the open door. Byzantine quickly called back, "Sorry Mother. I have to go see someone right now. It's urgent."

Graecia blinked in confusion and stood up and began to follow her daughter. "Byzantium-"

Byzantine turned around and looked her mother in the eyes. "My name is Byzantine."

Romano's POV

Romano tapped his index finger on the table top feeling annoyed. It has been half an hour since Spain called and asked to come over. Romano cast a glance over his shoulder at the virtual clock that rested on his kitchen counter. What the hell is taking him so long? I ran out of tomatoes twenty minutes ago.

Just then, a rapping noise came from Romano's front door making Romano jump. Spain finally arrived. Romano grumbled under his breath and got up from his chair and stalked to the door, miffed.

"What the hell took you so long, assho-" Romano's voice was cut off when he was abruptly tackled to the ground by an over-exuberant Spaniard.

"Rooooomaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Spain cried as he embraced the hot-headed Italian affectionately. "It's been so long since I've last seen you~!" Spain said, rubbing his cheek against the Italian's soft brown hair Romano blushed and he punched Spain in the stomach, making the Spaniard grunt. "Don't touch me, you bastard!"

Romano disentangled himself from Spain and the other country frowned at him. "That's not very cute, Roma!" Romano scowled and glared at the nation. "Don't call me Roma."

Spain blinked and grinned like a goof. "Alright Lovi~!" Romano's cheeks turned red when he used his human name and punched Spain in the arm, which only seemed to enlighten the Spaniard.

"You're so cute, mi tomato." Spain cooed and hugged Romano, despite the younger's protests. Spain laughed and stood up, straightening his now wrinkled brown t-shirt. "Do you want me to make paella? It's around lunchtime and I think I heard your tummy growl~." As if on cue, Romano's stomach growled as if it were a lion reflecting Romano's annoyance. Romano's cheeks turned red again and he glanced away from the tanned nation. "Fine, but don't make a mess. I'm not cleaning up after you."

Spain grinned at Romano. "Alright my little Lovi!" Spain said as he turned around and went to Romano's kitchen. Romano scowled at where the Spaniard had left and he yelled after him, "Don't call me Lovi, you ass!" Romano could swear that he heard Spain laugh at that.

Romano grumbled something angrily under his breath and got to his feet swaying slightly and feeling a little light-headed. Romano frowned and put a hand to his forehead. The room still seemed to be spinning and when Romano took a step forward, he stumbled.

"What the-" Suddenly Romano felt a knife of nausea stab at his stomach and he winced and put one hand to his mouth and the other to his stomach. Everything was beginning to feel so hot…

Gagging, Romano spun around and fled down his hall and into his bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and locked it before kneeling down in front of the toilet. Romano's fingers arched as he clutched the toilet seat and his eyes began to water as he threw up what little food his stomach had held.

When Romano was finished, he sat back and gasped for air, panting. Shaky-legged, Romano stood up and walked over to his sink and washed out the remainder of the vile taste. Then, he turned around and stepped towards the toilet to flush down his throw up. Romano didn't mean to, but he glanced into the toilet and saw a dark red liquid spreading in the toilet water.

Romano stiffened and his eyes widened. He slowly walked over to the toilet and the irony smell of blood snuck its way into Romano's nose, making him gag again. Clasping a hand to his mouth his mind began to scream, WHAT THE HELL? WHY DID I JUST THROW UP BLOOD? AM I DYING?

The very thought made Romano cringe and shake his head wildly. He couldn't die this way right? He was a country for god's sake! Regardless, Romano was still freaking out over the face he threw up fucking blood and decided to console with Spain.

Romano flushed the blood down the toilet and unlocked the door, stumbling out into the hallway. Dizziness returned to Romano's head and began to pound his brain. Romano moaned and gritted his teeth at the dull pain in his head as he hobbled down the hallway.

The room swayed in front of Romano until he couldn't take it anymore and he braced himself against the wall and panted. Everything was beginning to feel warm again.

Romano felt his arm lose all of its strength and he crashed to the floor, barely feeling the impact. He scarcely heard Spain walk out into the hallway in confusion at the dull sound of something hitting the ground and call out, "Romano? What's wrong-"

Through his blurry vision, he saw Spain's eyes widen as he raced to the fallen nations side and began to ask him if he was okay, panic laced in with his words. A black wave swept through Romano's line of vision and before he blacked out, he heard Spain begging him to wake up.

… What's happening to me?

Sorry 'bout the delay in the chapter. I kind of lost the inspiration to write in a while, but now I'm back! And I just realized that I ended the first chapter practically the same way I did with another one of my stories! FAIL.

Well anyway, thanks for reading the first chapter of 'My Italian Heart.' Asta La Pasta!