Wow, that first chapter got a great response! Thank you very much to those who favorited, followed, and/or reviewed! Each new email alert I received in my inbox made me grin and left me happy, like 'Russia' happy~
...And I mean that in the least eerie way possible (kolkolkol~) :3
So here we go, another chapter! Enjoy~
Hundreds of years passed and Spain went back and forth to the New World, trying to claim the stumbling, confused little countries before big-eyebrows Britain, creepy France, and his older brother Portugal did. Romano didn't see the point and was often frustrated when his caretaker left. Who else was going to make his breakfast every morning?! The chefs couldn't cook for shit, and at least Spain made food that was edible (no, he didn't think the Spaniard's cooking was delicious).
However, he got used to it and was greeted with a huge, suffocating hug from Antonio every time he returned and was given many stories about the strange new land across the sea (which he may or may not have found interesting…).
Unfortunately, things grew rough and alarmingly critical when France's new leader started causing trouble throughout Europe. Apparently some short douchebag named Napoleon thought he was so tough that he could just waltz into someone's country and try to take it over; initially, he and Spain's monarch were on good terms until that shrimpy little shit decided to be a filthy backstabber, and now the countries were at war.
That pipsqueak doesn't know who he's dealing with! Romano knew that he could easily knock that jerk down with a single punch to his ugly French face…if only Spain didn't keep him hidden away in his mansion 'for safety reasons'. Regardless, as it was, Lovino was forced to watch Antonio leave day after day to speak with his king about strategies and battle plans for this brewing war.
It was only a matter of time before Spain was called into battle, and Chibi Romano found himself dreading it (for some weird reason…maybe it was indigestion he was feeling instead…). Eventually, that day came and the Italian spied on his caretaker as he paced his room, packing some things and picking out weapons to bring. The boy made sure to stay out of the young man's way all day when he rushed around, giving instructions to certain people; instead, he kept to his room and used his time and energy to paint.
Currently, Chibi Romano hovered near the doorway to Spain's room, a bit nervous about what he intended to do. Nevertheless, he mustered up some of his tough Italian spirit and timidly stepped in. "H-Hey, jerk."
Spain startled slightly, turned around, and spotted Romano. He smiled at him, his emerald eyes glimmering. "Hola Romano~ Did you need something?"
Beginning to grow flustered, Lovino started getting a bit pink. Averting his eyes from contact, he looked to the ground in embarrassment and quickly whipped out a rather large, colorful piece of paper from behind his back, wordlessly handing it to Antonio. The Spaniard looked to him with confusion, yet accepted the parchment. He glanced it over and realized it was a painting of his tomato garden.
That simple piece of paper was decorated with delicate strokes of vivid colors ranging from jubilant green to radiant red to calm blue and was masterfully arranged to create the scenery he was well-acquainted with. Each stroke of color was either delicate for the softer shades or intense and vigorous for the louder, more expressive shades. The picture was so lively, moving, brilliant, glowing, extraordinary that it was almost as if Spain were looking outside at his garden now and was close enough to pluck a delicious tomato from one of the vines.
It was stunning.
"So you won't forget what your garden looks like while you're gone." Spain glanced down at his young ward and inwardly smiled at his flustered blush. "When you get back, it's going to be bigger with lots more tomatoes than you've ever seen before…bastard." He practically mumbled that last part as if he just remembered to add it in.
Antonio was in awe of Lovino's display of rarely seen kindness, and he felt warmth spread within his stomach where he had felt hollow only moments ago. He didn't want to leave his beloved home to fight. He hated seeing good soldiers, good men, die all around him; he hated seeing blood and dismembered limbs splayed upon the charred dirt of the battlefield; he hated the sound of gunshots and swords slicing through tender flesh and agonizing shrieks and frantic Spanish prayers and sobbing; he hated war all together.
It was for these reasons and many more that Spain dreaded leaving, and he wished more than anything that he didn't have to go; he'd rather stay and grow tomatoes, eat churros, polish his weapons, practice his cooking, teach Romano Spanish and just look after his adorably stubborn colony in general…
"Gracias, Romano~" he said genuinely. "I'll be sure to look at it every night before I sleep, and I vow not to lose it."
"This means nothing you jerk!" The little Italian insisted angrily. "Just…just don't get killed out there, stupido!"
"I promise I won't," Spain replied earnestly. "I'll be back before you know it."
"Even then it won't be long enough," Chibi Romano muttered, trying to save face. "Kick France's ass for me, and if you see that Napoleon jerk, kick him in his miniature balls."
"Where you get your mouth from I'll never know," Spain sighed. "I'll see what I can do. Just stay out of trouble while I'm gone."
"Whatever, jerk." Little Lovino rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "Don't get killed or-or…or else I'll kill you myself...with a spoon!"
Antonio laughed, feeling a lot lighter than he had in days. "¡Qué cómico, chico~! Don't worry, you'll still be stuck with me by the end of this~"
"Dammit…" Chibi Romano muttered with (fake) discontent.
"Um, excuse me, sir." Both brunettes looked towards a new voice and noticed a man standing at the doorway. "I apologize for interrupting, but the carriage is ready. It's time to go."
All at once, Spain's somber mood returned, and his entire expression dimmed to a dismal grimace. Romano noticed and frowned, not liking the look on his caretaker; Spain's unhappy face was even uglier than his usual cheerful, overly happy one (yeah, that's it…). The Spanish nation inclined his head in a serious manner and replied, "Of course, I'll be right there. Gracias."
"De nada." And with that, the man took his leave, and the countries were alone once more. Antonio still wore that much-too serious expression on his face while his emerald orbs swirled with all his internal thoughts.
Little Lovino felt something twist in his chest, and he bitterly mumbled, "Looks like you better get going, jerk."
Spain pursed his lips and inclined his head. "I guess so." Then he gazed down at his henchman and bent down on his knees so that they were eye-level. "Listen Romano, I don't know how long I'll be gone, but you should know the drill by now: do your chores, listen to the guards, practice your Spanish, stay on the premises-"
"I know what to do, bastard!" Chibi Romano snapped. "I've only done this about a thousand times!" He swears that he did not mean to make that last part sound so resentful and unhappily resigned; he was going for exasperation…
Regardless, it made the Spaniard wince apologetically. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll kick Napoleon's ass for you." He grinned wryly at the thought.
The Italian child firmly nodded. "You'd better…and remember to not die."
"I won't." Spain sighed with reluctant acceptance. "Well then, I should go. Adiós, Romano. I'll be back, I promise."
"Y-yeah…" Then without thinking, Lovino suddenly lurched forward before Antonio could stand up and hugged him around the neck. The child heard a sharp yet quiet intake of breath from his caretaker, but soon felt him relax and gently wrap his arms around him, returning the hug. Romano took a moment to savor in hearing Spain's beating heart and feeling the older man's warmth and affection (uh, he means letting the tomato bastard enjoy the hug that Romano is nicely allowing him to have…yeah…).
After a while though, Lovino gave the jerk a final squeeze before hurriedly releasing him and rushing out of the room, flushing with embarrassment. Antonio was mildly surprised by the loss of contact, even more so that it was there in the first place, yet soon found himself wearing a soft smile. Chuckling lightly to himself, Spain stood up and resumed packing.
Once he finished, he glanced at the picture in his hands, smiled just a smidge brighter, and then gently folded it and placed it in his jacket pocket. After all, he wanted to have it as close to him as possible during his time away from home.
{~/~/~}
Several hours later, after a series of good-byes exchanged by Spain and the residents of his mansion, Romano was lying in bed in his room, trying and failing to get to sleep. For some reason, the tomato bastard was on his mind and thoughts of him getting injured or killed in battle haunted him. An explanation as to why plagued him until his head hurt from frustration.
Eventually, it became clear that he wasn't going to get to sleep so Chibi Romano sat up and released an exasperated sigh. Stupid tomato jerk…stupid France…stupid Napoleon… Figuring that a tomato and a glass of warm milk would lull him to sleep, the boy hopped off his bed and silently padded out of his room to find the kitchen.
Despite living with Spain for years, Romano still couldn't quite grasp the enormity of the house and got lost in the endless corridors even then. Currently, he was tip-toeing down the hallway, mindful of the servants sleeping (not that he cared about them or their slumber…he just didn't want to be bothered by them, that's all). After a while of wandering down hallway after hallway, each decorated with vibrant paintings and small tables holding expensive vases, Lovino officially got lost.
Regardless, he found himself standing in front of Spain's bedroom. Not by his own choosing, the path to his caretaker's room was instinctively infused within him, and his little feet often carried him there many a night when he had a nightmare or when those damn squirrels broke into his room and wet his bed. Looking up at the familiar wooden door before him, Romano didn't give it much thought as he let himself in.
The room seemed somewhat empty and devoid of life without Spain's (obnoxiously) cheerful presence occupying it on a daily basis. However, there was this aura of safety and reassurance that drew Chibi Romano deeper into the bedroom. Soon, the child was snuggling under the sheets of the tomato bastard's bed and resting his head on the fluffy pillow where Spain usually laid his curly brunette head.
The bed itself withheld the scent of warm leche with the hint of cinnamon as well as with a mixture of an earthy quality to it that no doubt had a dash of the sun-kissed soil that the young man walked upon each and every day; the fragrant was just so utterly Spain that it managed to soothe Romano without the boy even consciously noticing.
The first night was always the worst and the hardest to get through. Every time Spain left for some reason or another where the possibility of him never coming back was viable, Romano struggled through that first night alone. He didn't know why though since he didn't care for that jerk or anything…obviously!
It must've been some sort of curse due to living with Spain for so long…
Whatever the reason, Romano could never truly sleep through that first night, and he had no doubt that that evening would be any different. Lovino laid there for a moment or two before he reached into his nightgown's pocket and pulled out the rock of silver. He glanced at it in the moonlight shining through the window and watched as its specks glimmered under the glow, the faint scratch fairly noticeable. Sighing out a grumble, Romano clutched the slab close and held it to his chest against his rapidly beating heart.
For reasons unknown to him, holding onto that rock made him feel a bit better and, slowly but surely, he felt his eyelids grow heavy with exhaustion.
You better come back you jerk…
{~/~/~}
The first night was always the worst and the hardest to get through. Spain was lying on his back, wrapped in a blanket, and was staring up at the stars decorating the clear nighttime sky. He and a group of soldiers were camped in the middle of a field in god knows where, getting rest before they headed out to battle with the French.
While the others around him were getting rest, Antonio remained awake as his mind raced with so many concerns and anxieties. Though the concept of battle wasn't new to him, he always had trouble sleeping the first night until the busyness and rushed sensations of war got to him and mercifully stopped him from thinking too deeply about things; out there in battle, the only thing he could think was fight, watch your back, and survive.
The Spaniard absentmindedly located Orion's belt within the collection of stars above him and sighed. Battles tended to be pointless, and the reasons behind them were prone to stupidity. Fighting France was going to be difficult, seeing that the two were friends, but there was nothing Spain could do but hope that he didn't run into the nation during battle and that the Frenchman wouldn't take it personally. After all, this wasn't like the Battle of Garigliano where Antonio had a damn good reason for fighting Francis since it involved Romano; without that incentive, this war was going to be agonizingly long and frustrating.
Rolling on his side, Spain glanced over at the other tents where his squad slept. He tried not to think of watching these good men die and how many of them have a family waiting for them to come home. Instead, the brunette focused on who was waiting for him when he got home. He imagined the faces of good friends, neighbors, servants, his grocer, and Romano.
Reminded of his henchman, Spain perked up a bit and pulled out the picture the child painted for him from where it was folded in his pocket. He gazed at the scene and immersed himself in the colors. The young man closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to imagine what his tomato garden actually looked like now: he imagined feeling the warmth of the sun on his face, the cool breeze combing through his tresses, the earthy smell of soil and nature in general, the luscious crimson of the tomatoes, the softness of the dirt beneath his bare feet, the smooth skin of the fruits of the sun when he delicately plucked them from the vines, and the small, soft, subtly hidden smile forming at the corner of Lovino's lips whenever he was out picking tomatoes.
Romano's painting truly captured all those aspects.
Spain smiled as he thought of his beautiful garden and held the picture close to his chest. A welcoming sense of comfort and happiness blossomed within his chest and, for that brief moment, envisioned himself back at home, tending to his beloved tomatoes and to little Romano. Wonderful thoughts like that circled his mind and, before he knew it, Antonio had fallen fast asleep with the picture pressed close to his chest.
I'll be back home in no time…
And like every time when he left, Spain did return. It took several long years of fighting, countless letters to Romano (delightfully surprised when he got responses), and falling asleep in the strangest places yet still having that sense of home whenever he looked at Romano's painting, something that he made into a habit every night before bed. All the while, he had no clue that his young charge spent most of his nights in the Spaniard's room, holding onto that slab of silver to help him get to sleep and waking up with it still clutched in his small hands.
When he finally returned home, Antonio greeted Lovino with a hug.
Chibi Romano greeted him with a string of curses and a head-butt.
Ah, it's good to be home.
The battle referenced in this chapter was the Peninsular War of the Napoleonic Wars from 1807-1814. Apparently France and Spain invaded Portugal until Napoleon backstabbed Spain, despite being allies at the time. If this is inaccurate in any way shape or form, let me know. I'm no history buff (although I'd like to think so after watching Hetalia), and I'm just going off on things I'm learning in my history course as well as from the Internet.
Anyways, thanks for coming back and for reading! Have a nice day and watch out for baby turtles who might invade your local restaurant X)
Translations:
Spanish
Hola-hello
Gracias-thank you
¡Qué cómico, chico~!-How funny, boy/kid! (again, Spain means no disrespect)
De nada-you're welcome
Adiós-goodbye
leche-milk
Italian
stupido-stupid (I had no idea, she said sarcastically XD)