APH and its characters (c) Hidekaz Himaruya

"For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul." - Judy Garland

Pairing: Spain x Romano

Lovino wasn't sick. He was simply feeling quite ill. It was perfectly natural, in his stubborn opinion, to throw up a few times, suffer from a high fever as well as a terrible headache, lose all appetite for food, and curse tiredly in his bed.

All in a day's work, really.

Antonio, however, had a completely different idea and reaction.

Lovino groaned and shut his eyes close. Even though his pillow and sheet were soaked with his cold sweat, the Italian was still getting ready to drift off to much-needed sleep. He shifted his head a little with all his strength and groaned again.

Now if only he had something that could make the annoying Spaniard shut up. He listened to Antonio's panic footsteps echoing through the large house. Rapid instructions were fired at the servants. Lovino caught a sentence or two. Apparently, Antonio was telling the servants to mail some banana pies to the fishbowl. Then again, he had never really paid attention during Spanish classes.

He pushed his head against the soft pillow and let out another groan. He took short breathes and tried to clear his mind. His stomach gurgled from the lack of food, and he mentally ordered to be quiet. He couldn't keep food down anyways.

He steadied his breathing and felt his mind drifting off. A rush of relief came over him. The night breeze from the opened windows cooed him softly like a lullaby. For the first time today, Lovino sighed contently and a brief smile appeared on his tired face.

Then he felt a weight on his forehead. He furrowed his brows, annoyed by the sudden discomfort. He opened his eyes – as much as he didn't want to – and checked the source.

Antonio was blankly down at him with his hand on his forehead.

"What are you doing, bastard!?" Lovino protested and gave a swift slap of the Spaniard's arm.

Antonio flinched back and smiled apologetically with a giddy blush. Lovino spotted a hint of exhaustion in the green eyes. He puffed his cheeks like a blowfish in hope of frightening off the Spaniard.

"Your face is so red… like a tomato!" Antonio giggled and had the nerves to pinch Lovino's cheek.

"Shut up! Damn it! Let me sleep!"

Lovino tossed his whole body away. His muscles scowled him, sending soreness through his entire body. The Italian tucked his chin into his chest and pulled the heavy sheets up to cover his shoulder. He huffed loudly: a signal to Antonio that he should leave.

But Antonio – being Antonio – didn't catch the hint. Lovino gritted his teeth as he felt Antonio's weight next to him on the bed. On another other day, Lovino would have kicked the living daylight out of Antonio. But tonight, he was simply too plagued with fatigue to bother with the Spaniard.

He kept close to his side and bunched up the sheets selfishly for himself. Not that Antonio was slipping under the sheets though. He could sense that Antonio was just sitting on top of the bed.

He couldn't even think what nuisance Antonio was planning to conduct. He pressed his eyes close and tried his hardest to sleep. But his chest tightened at the thought of Antonio being so near. He could smell the musky scent of the Spaniard; the hint of tomatoes and spices aroused his senses.

He embarrassedly pushed his palm against his stomach when it sounded a loud grumble. Antonio chuckled. Lovino cursed under his breath and pulled the sheets over his head, which only made Antonio laughed again.

"Leave me alone, damn it!" Lovino snarled under the dome of heavy sheets.

Antonio either ignored him or didn't hear it. Instead of granting his wish, Lovino felt the mattress bounce as Antonio shifted on the bed. Judging from the pressure on the sheets, Lovino concluded that Antonio was lying down.

That arrogant bastard… who gave him permission to sleep in his bed?

Lovino knocked the sheets back down. He tossed over again to face Antonio, who had indeed lied down. He puffed his cheeks again and was about to open his mouth when he was cut short by Antonio.

Antonio was humming a soft tune. His head tilted left and right and his green eyes glanced about the room, oblivious to Lovino's angry staring.

Lovino watched. Antonio's lips barely moved but he could hear faint words – Spanish – coming out of his mouth. It was hard to tell the quality of Antonio's tone, but for some odd reason, it made Lovino soften and forget about kicking the Spaniard out of his bed.

He took a hard breath and let his eyes close again. With his sight turned off and him lying in stillness, his hearing picked up Antonio's song better. Antonio didn't have a great voice but it had enough tenderness to make up for it. In fact, the rawness of it actually made the song sound better. The mumbled lyric was difficult to hear but Lovino heard a few words about mothers, water, and of course, tomatoes.

He scooted closer – but with discreet – so he could hear better. It didn't help that Antonio alternated between singing and humming, and with him lying flat, his voice was hushed and strained.

Lovino bumped his hair against Antonio's shoulder. He felt Antonio shift once again and felt a hand on his shoulder. He would've complained about it, but since the sheets were thick enough that he didn't actually feel skin-on-skin, he let it go.

Besides, Antonio's poor singing was actually helping to put him to sleep. He could feel his own breathing slowing down as sleep massaged his body. He fluttered his eyes once to look at Antonio. He pulled his head back when he realized how close their faces were. But otherwise, he was too drained of energy to move anymore.

Lovino melted into the welcoming embrace of rest. Before he did, he felt Antonio's breath on the tip of his nose. He heard Antonio's incoherent Spanish words – breathless and unrefined – gently whispered into his ears.

And he finally slept, completely at ease.

THE END.