Amazing Grace
As a nation, Spain lived his life according to the will of his people. You showed him that the only way to find meaning in life was to learn to live and love as Antonio Carriedo.
Title: Amazing Grace
Chapter: Part 3 of 8
Characters: Spain, You/Maria, and the WORLD
Pairing: Spain x You/Reader/Maria
Rating: M – (rating would change depending on the chapter)
Warning: Swearing (warnings would change depending on the chapter), Adult Situations
Summary: After an exhausting Summits Meeting chaired by Germany and hosted by England, Antonio and his friends decided to spend some time in the UK before flying back home for Christmas.
All his life, his very existence was influenced by his people and his leaders. A human country with no human identity, he once quoted before. Most of his decisions, if not all the significant ones, were for the benefit of his people, not himself.
Some, like flirting and sleeping with women, won't necessarily get in the way of his duties as a nation, and so he allowed himself that luxury. Centuries of curiosity built, wondering what it would be like to truly live as a human. He saw the opportunity upon meeting you. Despite his better judgement, you became friends.
Could your friendship be the missing piece in his life as a human nation, or will he have to choose between his duties to his country or himself as Antonio Fernandez y Carriedo?
Only one way to find out…
IMPORTANT NOTE:
I have written a supplementary read called 'Behind Genesis'. If you wanted to know how the countries are born in my world, then this is a good short read.
I was also writing the third chapter but had to change laptops and could not recover the document. So now, I must try and remember what I typed for the fic!
Chapter Note:
This chapter is going to have a more serious tone to it compared to the previous chapters. Just warning you all.
It will have its silly moments, but this chapter will mostly contain interactions and inner thoughts of the countries. You/Maria won't be as active in this chapter, unfortunately. I had to cut down what I wrote here as I reached 12K, and I was only 80% done. :S
Author's Note:
So, it has been – what? Five years since I last updated this fic.
I know not many people would be interested in reading this after so long. I decided to update anyway for my sake, and those who would still love to read this.
Lots of things have happened in those 5 years. I have graduated from my undergraduate degree. I am now doing my actual law degree. I have 1 ½ - 2 years left to go 😊 One of the main reasons why this is taking me this long to graduate is because I am working so many hours to help my family financially.
I am sorry to have disappointed you, my faithful readers. My style of writing has changed considerably as well. I will do my best to switch from my now law-like-concise-and-succinct style of writing to a more descriptive fiction-writer style of writing.
I would also like to apologise to the readers that I have upset regarding my views on yaoi in the past. My perspective has changed and matured, and I hope you can forgive me for my ignorant way of expressing my dislike for the yaoi fandom. I am still not a fan of yaoi, but I could have placed my words better than I did before. To amend my mistake, I have deleted that comment in my chapters. Once again, if I have offended anyone, I am very sorry.
Without further ado, let's get started with the chapter that you have all waited 5 years for.
Recap:
I know for sure that she was smiling, she always was. She stroke my hair very gently, and whispered "That's what friends are for, Toni. I'm always here to listen."
Always… the word came to my head. She's not immortal and yet, the way she said that she would always be there for me, it was so genuine that I could believe she and I could be friends for eternity.
Start of Chapter
December 22 – 6:27 pm
Wisps of steam protruded the fissures of the bathroom door to the bedroom area. The clinks of glass bottles could be heard as they were being used. The tune of Feliz Navidad was being whistled whilst the drawers were rummaged through.
Wisps turned into clouds as the steam escaped the bathroom upon the opening of the door. Antonio emerged bare chested, a blue towel wrapped around his tanned hips as he dried off his chocolate locks with a matching small blue towelette.
He walked towards his dresser and continued to whistle the tune of the merry song while going through his clothes. He bopped his head and swayed his hips to the rhythm – reflecting the grace of a true dancer. He pulled out a new pair of red underwear, a long-sleeved white collared shirt, a black v-neck jumper, a steel blue single-breasted wool blazer, a pair of black trousers, and brown suede ankle boots to match the brown leather gloves he pulled out last.
[For your reference: ( /images/Q5682e) it is the outfit on the far left – save the brown gloves.]
Antonio neatly laid the items on the newly-made bed and admired his choice of wear. He smiled as he placed his hands on his hips in pride. One of the things he was proud of was how simple yet well dressed he always was. He wasn't excessively fashion forward like the Italian brothers were, nor was he anywhere near Francis' level of being flashy and fanciful. His people always preferred to look conservative yet fashionable, favouring trousers over shorts. He would have opted for a nice leather jacket, but he didn't want the beautiful leather to get damp. Judging by the amount of snow fall outside his window, it would more than likely become a lot damper than he would allow. His leather shoes and gloves – he would allow more wear and tear than the pricier jacket.
"Ah, gut! You are ready for ze party downstairs!"
Antonio didn't even snap his head up to see who it was. He knew exactly who it was.
"Don't you ever knock anymore, Gilbert?" Antonio asked as he took the towel off his waist, leaving nothing to the imagination as he tried to put on his underwear.
Gilbert scoffed. The Spaniard could almost see his friend rolling his eyes before replying with sarcasm, "und you don't even have ze common decency anymore to not bare it all when someone else is in ze same room as you."
Antonio chuckled and merely shrugged in reply. What can he say? The three of them, most especially Francis, were used to seeing each other naked. Centuries of being best friends, they could tell if a new mole was on someone's skin upon first inspection.
Gilbert approached the bed, sat on it, and proceeded to lie his upper body down on the soft mattress, his feet still grounded on the floor. Antonio saw this coming and quickly took the newly ironed shirt from being rumpled under Gilbert's weight. The Prussian didn't seem to care, but he did notice the outfit Antonio laid out.
"You look too dressed up for a drink in ze taverne", Gilbert raised an inquisitive brow as he turned his head to look at his friend who was putting on the crisp white shirt around his tanned and rather deceitfully muscular build.
"I'm not going," was Antonio's simple reply as he buttoned his shirt.
"Was?"
"Voy a ver una película."
"Eh… I prefer to drink, Tonio, but sure. We should tell Fra-"
"With Maria," Antonio added as he zipped his black trousers.
There was silence between them, and the Spaniard was naturally oblivious to his friend's expression. Prussia's mind was running a hundred kilometres per second, trying to decipher if he just heard his friend correctly.
"You're going out with zat girl… again?!"
Antonio smiled as he pulled on his black jumper. "Si. Poor girl needed to unwind. She's been practising for weeks, and need to unwind for a cha-"
He couldn't finish what he was saying. Prussia grabbed the Spaniard by the shoulders, now kneeling on the bed across his friend. He shook the brunet fiercely – almost as if trying to wake him up.
"You keep going out to see her! Is her pussy really zat gut?!"
At that, Antonio broke free from Gilbert's grip by slapping the back of his hands against the Prussian's forearms. The Spaniard didn't look pleased by the insinuation. His brown brows furrowed in annoyance, and a grimace appeared on his normally smiling lips.
"Hey-hey-hey!Don't talk about her that way!" Spain pointed an accusing and rather stern warning finger towards Prussia.
Prussia was taken even more aback.
"Vel, vat else vud be ze reason you keep seeing zis frau?!"
Antonio could tell Gilbert was becoming more distressed judging by the way his accent started to change his pronunciations of certain words by a fraction. Before he could reply, he heard a knock on the door followed by Francis' voice.
"Antonio! Gilbert! Hurry up! I want to drink some fine wine already!"
Gilbert yelled back in indignation. "Ze Spanish bastard won't drink viz us, because he is going to ze movies vis zat girl!"
Before Antonio could even open his mouth, Francis bursts through the door with a loud, "quoi?!"
The Spaniard quickly shook his head to snap himself out of the remaining dizzy spell that originated from Gilbert's relentless shaking. He felt an oncoming headache about to replace the dizziness. He tried to nurse himself by placing a hand on his forehead – his thumb and middle finger on either one of his temples, "I already hung out with you two all day today!"
He turned around to approach the second dresser across from his bed. He rummaged through the drawer trying to find his red cashmere scarf that has his national flag as a small patch on both ends.
"It's almost Christmas though, und you haven't celebrated viz us properly!" Gilbert retorted.
Francis placed a hand on Gilbert's shoulder and slightly pulled him out of the way to retort back, "and I'm going back home on Christmas eve!"
Antonio gingerly placed the scarf around his neck, doing his best to understand both of his friends' over-reaction. He agreed with them. He started to spend a lot of time with you, since you both met. He also did his best to make up for his absence by spending the morning and afternoon with Gilbert and Francis when he finished his administrative duties. Evenings were mostly reserved for you.
The Spaniard quietly chuckled in amusement at the thought. Friendly evenings with you, he reminded himself. It was not some sort of intimate and romantic escapade into the night. He found himself enjoying this unusual pace with a woman. You really could have a friend of the opposite sex despite having an extensive history of flirting and fucking a populace of beautiful and enticing women.
"I think you're both over reacting. We celebrate most Christmases together. Besides, you're the one who suggested that we celebrate it differently, Gil."
Francis contemplated about it for a moment, before he gave off the expression that his friend had a point. The Prussian, with his ever-stubborn ways, thought otherwise. He stuttered his defiance.
"Z-z-zat's not vat I meant by celebrating it differently. Zat's also besides ze point, und don't go agreeing too readily, France!"
Not wanting to leave this argument unfinished, Antonio thought of a way to compromise. He was known to be oblivious at times, but he understood why his friends reacted the way they did. He didn't want a woman to come in between them, especially since they have all been very busy with work. Of course, save for Prussia. As an inactive nation, he continued to assist West with work instead. Though, he tended to bother the German more than assist.
"Look, Maria and I are really just friends. So, I would appreciate it if you don't talk about her like that, Gil," Gilbert knew exactly what Antonio was talking about. Even though France wasn't there to hear those words, knowing Prussia, he knew it would have been something very vulgar. Spain continued his retort.
"Is that so hard to believe? She's fun to be around! You never know, she might end up joining our trio!" Antonio chuckled before turning around to look at himself in the mirror.
The last comment was meant to be a joke, but the other two nations didn't seem too keen on the idea. The shocking comment was a bit too much for them, and Spain was oblivious to it all. Antonio turned back to face his friends to voice his idea of compromise instead. It was only then that both France and Prussia voiced out their thoughts to his little joke.
"Oh, how about I introduce you two to Maria-"
"Vas?!"
"le gasp!"
"-tomorrow night for drinks," Antonio continued, ignoring their interruptions and still oblivious to the fact that the statements Gilbert and Francis were saying were in fact not related to his idea of compromise.
"Ist das dein ernst?!
"Sans déconner?"
"-only if you both promise me that you would be on your best behaviour!"
Silence consumed the room, and it wasn't something that Antonio expected. He expected protests or assents, but not deafening silence. Was his suggestion not a good one, or was it too good that they both couldn't tell if he was lying or not? Antonio's gaze slowly climbed to the wall where an ornate looking clock rested. His eyes widened at the realisation. Was that really the time?! He thought to himself.
He quickly snapped his gaze to the watch on his wrist and felt a sudden panic rising. He was normally tardy for a lot of things, but of course, it was rude to keep a lady waiting. Ignoring his stunned friends who were slowly recovering from the shock, he quickly snatched his small leather satchel from the office chair. His friends' gaze followed him.
"En fin, we will talk about this later when I get back. Adios, and enjoy your drinks, chicos!" Antonio bid them farewell as he closed the door and rushed down the hall. His rushed footsteps could be heard until he was far enough that they could no longer be heard.
Gilbert was still kneeling on the bed. His right eye twitched in annoyance as he stared at the door where Antonio went out to. His hands were stiff, his fingers twitched, and he felt as if his soul was about to leave his body. His body started shaking, and his hands slowly closed into a fist before he pulled his head back and yelled at the ceiling with a thunderous voice.
Gilbert screamed in his native tongue. Francis wasn't fluent in German, but he knew well enough that Prussia was yelling profanity in every sentence. He winced at the booming voice of his friend, but his eyes never left the door. Unlike Gilbert who was both confused and angry for being ignored, Francis was both, but he was also feeling apprehensive.
He hoped to God that whatever this was, it wasn't what he thought it would become.
With the help of your newfound friend, you were finally confident in your ability to sing the song flawlessly. A pinch of anxiety continued to hover over you, and it planted seeds of doubt that nagged you with that voice that resurfaced from the dark crevices of your mind. You wanted to continue practising, Antonio advised otherwise. He wanted you to rest your vocal chords, and just do something else entirely.
It's almost Christmas, he reasoned. You can practise hours before.
Sometimes, you envy the Spaniard's laid-back attitude. He was right. You needed to unwind for once, and not think about anything. You did tend to take things too seriously.
Antonio suggested that you both watch a movie. It didn't require you to use your voice, exert energy, and you got to relax. It was an ideal break from all the training.
You left your apartment earlier than necessary, wanting to park your car by the theatres before it became full. You arrived half an hour earlier and decided to take a leisurely walk around the area. You exchanged brief greetings and pleasantries with a few strangers. Christmas, somehow, made a few people a bit friendlier than usual. It was wonderful to see.
You passed by an arts and crafts shop, the window was showcasing some stuffed animals that were knitted together. A giggle escaped your lips at how cute they were. On the mannequin bust, you saw it sporting a tightly knitted scarf with matching gloves and caps. They looked very well made. The dark blue scarf was wrapped neatly around the mannequin's neck with both ends meeting at the front torso. The matching navy cap reminded you of a French beret, while the gloves were practical enough to be used by those with a touchscreen gadget.
An elderly lady appeared before you as she squeezed her way in the visual merchandise window. She politely gave you a smile, and a greeting of 'Happy Christmas' that was muffled by the window glass. You greeted her back as she placed a music box on the centre podium of the window.
You bid her good bye with a wave, which she returned in kind. You spent a few more minutes browsing around before checking the time on your watch. Both you and Antonio planned on meeting up at 19:10. It was already 19:15. Upon realising you were already late, you quickly took out your phone to check if Antonio left you any messages. There were a few.
Not bothering to check what they said, you quickly made your way to the movie theatre.
Both Gilbert and Francis resigned themselves to the hotel bar where most of the other countries were mingling about. By this time, they knew every single country who attended the Summit have finished all their paperwork. Seeing that the bar was absent of several female countries, both deduced that they were probably out shopping. This resulted in the bar being mostly populated by male patrons. If the absence of the female countries were not obvious enough, the loud laughter and yelling of a drunken match would have been a dead giveaway that this private bar was dominated by the male countries.
Gilbert groaned. He wanted to annoy Elizabeta to let off some steam. He might have to go bar hopping later to flirt around. First, he needed a drink. He sat on a bar stool right next to Arthur, who was having a rather hilarious drunken chat with the hyper American. Alfred didn't seem to be affected by the strong alcohol in his hand… at all.
Gilbert merely dropped his face on the bar counter and raised a finger into the air to attract the attention of the bartender. Francis sat right next to his friend and had more success in gaining the bartender's attention. Mostly because his face wasn't covered by the bar, and he was more animated than Prussia.
"Pardonnais-moi, may I please have a glass of your best Château Mouton Rothschild Pauillac?" Francis ordered politely.
The bartender repeated the order as an acknowledgement, and then he looked towards the rather depressed Prussia. The nation's hand was still up in the air, his elbow propped on the very same wood where his forehead rested.
"And what would you like, mon ami?"
"The strongest one they have, Bonnie-boy," Prussia stated while his face still rested on the wooden counter, and before his hand pointed at Alfred, "stronger than America's, preferably."
Francis looked over at Alfred's drink. He didn't know what it was, but judging by its colour and the strong scent of alcohol coming from that certain direction, he deduced it was stronger than he initially thought. He winced at Gilbert's preferred drink for the night and hesitated to order the very same thing for his friend.
"He will have your best beer, please," Francis smiled at the bartender to hide the fact that he didn't repeat Gilbert's real order.
The bartender nodded and left to make the drinks.
"Was zur hölle, Francis?! That wasn't what I ordered!" Gilbert finally straightened on his stool as he glared at the Frenchman.
"We only just sat down, and you wanted the strongest one they had! Don't drink your sanity away, just yet. The night is still young," France replied.
"Baaaahh! You're pathetic, France!"
Having been used to this kind of behaviour from the Prussian due to centuries of friendship, Francis didn't miss a beat, "Look who's talking."
"I look bored. There's a difference."
"Non, you look pathetically depressed, and bored."
"Can you blame me? Our best friend chose a girl over us. Over. Us. Can you believe that?!"
"Well… it did just happen."
Prussia went back to sulking by hiding his face in his arms against the bar. In exasperation he replied with a short, "Shut up, France."
"What are you two whining about now?"
Gilbert was not in the mood for this, not now. Especially not now. He recognised that voice even if it was surrounded by a thousand mooing cows. That snobby tone of voice was unmistakeable. He was ashamed to share the same language as him.
Austria...
"I am not whining, you three-boobed-tutu face!"
Roderich merely raised an eyebrow at Gilbert. With all the childish insults that the Prussian threw at him all his life, he could decode the source of the insult… sadly.
"That third breast tutu you are talking about is called a cravat, Prussia - in case you didn't know… and I'm sure you certainly did not."
So that's what it's called, the Prussian thought. All his life, he never even knew the proper name for the lace-like fabric that the servants always shoved on his throat or collar. Gilbert took this as an insult. He didn't need to look like a fool in front of this four-eyed-tea kisser.
"I-I know what it is, you four eyed tea kisser!"
"Did someone say tea?" Arthur happily and drunkenly inquired as he turned around to his left to face Prussia.
While the nations were busy bickering, the barman placed the wine and beer near their designated drinker.
"Britain-dude, I think it's time you go to bed. You're drunk as a horse on catnip!"
"America-san," Japan interjected before the American turned himself around to face the reserved Asian country, "cats are the onry ones who get high or get drunk-rike on catnip,"
Japan quietly took a bottle of hot sake from the barman and poured himself a shot.
"Really? No wonder it didn't work on old Bessy," Alfred replied before he was grabbed by the collar, promptly turning him around in his swivel bar stool to come face to face with the drunk Englishman.
Honda swiftly made his exit as he knew full well what was about to happen.
"Haaaoooo deehhrrr yewwww!"
After hearing Arthur's raised tone, Australia rushed towards England to help calm the nation down. Kyle, or affectionately called Steve – named after his iconic citizen; Steve Irwin – by his family, cradled his sleepy Drop Bear. It happened to have had a full bottle of his favourite Bundaberg Rum, as he made his way to his brothers.
England continued his drunken onslaught, "I am most absitively posulutely sure that I can… take… my…" Arthur slurred as he slowly turned to his right to face Kyle.
"Far out, Arthur," Kyle chuckled as he placed a hand to steady the irritated nation. "You're bloody plastered, mate. I know it's almost Chrissy, but you shouldn't have skulled down your whole eski of beer. Maybe you should just start drinking some wate-"
"Kowawa," Arthur interrupted,"or no kowawa… THAT," England raised his voice as he raised his forefinger high up in the air, his arm flailed madly, hitting near-by nations, "is the question!"
In his drunken stupor, the nation landed on the floor with a huge thud. His hysteria attracted a lot of attention within the bar. More than half of them made noises of amusement while the others created nothing but short of sighs and disappointing clicks of the tongue. Japan merely shook his head and went back to his Asian siblings to continue their game.
Kyle, on the other hand, had to control his drunken Drop Bear, who – by some curse or miracle – was now wide awake and ready to attack the drunken nation on the floor.
"Alright, mate. Settle down! No attacking my brother – hey! Alright, Kody, you've made your point. Let's go to bed," Kyle said. He quickly placed the koala by the crook of his neck, its back being patted by the Australian to soothe him.
Canada stared in horror at his other brother's bravery. When a koala or a drop bear has those long sharp claws, and was very much temperamental, there was no way he would ever place it close to his neck. Even though nations could not be killed by normal means, as a human, he knew it would hurt – a lot! Subconsciously, Matthew nursed his neck, almost as if trying to reassure himself that Kody would not attack him. Kumajirou sensed Matthew's tension, and looked up worriedly. He may not remember who he was, but he knew that the person cradling him cared for him very deeply.
"Shakespeare?" asked Lithuania – killing the silence.
"Yes. I remembered last time he was so drunk, he kept yelling out poems."
"Ugh, don't remind me, Poland! I live right next to him!" remarked Netherland. "My poor sister, Belgium, she got put off by a lot of poems because of that."
"I understand what you mean, bruh! He loves spouting out poems when he's drunk. Especially, like, this one famous English poet guy by the name of Thomas Edison."
Austria, being an avid reader, stared hard at the American and said, "Thomas Edison… made poems?"
"Tch, like, yeah dude! Thomas Edison totally rocked!"
"Don't you sink zat you mixed him up viz Thomas Hardy?"
"… and isn't Thomas Edison an inventor?" Canada quietly intervened in the conversation between Roderich and Alfred.
"Rod-bruh, it's definitely Edison, okay? I don't know any other Thomases that's that amazing and bad ass enough to fly a kite in a storm, for God's sake!"
"Actually, that was Benjamin Franklin," Canada, once again, quietly corrected his brother to no avail. "I don't think Edison and Franklin were British." With Matthew's knack for invisibility, he slyly whispered to the polar bear in his arms, "In all honesty, I think Tesla is better."
"Who are you?"
"Canadia," Alfred called out, almost as if he was answering Kumajirou's question, "I didn't say he was Brit! I said he was English!"
"Zey're exactly ze same sing!", yelled an irritated Austria.
"Shaddup, Aussie-teria!", replied a drunken Arthur. "People need to bloody know the difference between Great Britain, England and the rest of the U-fuckin'-kay?! Okay!?"
Alfred ignored his father figure's drunken outburst and retorted back to Austria, "Dude, English is America's language, and like everyone totally knows that. So, Thomas Edison speaks English, and that obviously means he's American! Also, those peeps in Britain, like, speak British! Wow, dude get with the program! Hahaha!"
Alfred continued to laugh at Austria, believing the nation to be intellectually-challenged.
"Idiots, the lot of you," claimed Arthur before he completely passed out on the wooden floor.
From the corner of the room, some of the Asian countries drank sake as they played a round of Majhong Poker.
"Yosh… I win again." Japan claimed before he took his winnings from the table.
China's eyes widened in disbelief as his jaw comically dropped to the table. "H-how can you win four times in a row-aru!?"
"That's because Japan is so good at keeping his poker-face, la, while you just suck at doing anything." Taiwan grinned in sadistic pleasure as she watched China weep in dismay. She always preferred Japan whilst she continued to show her discontent with Yao's presence.
"Da-ze! Taiwan, stop teasing our older brother, and will you stop trying to defend that copy-cat Japan!?"
"You're the copy-cat here, Yong-Soo," Hong Kong quietly said his piece before he drank the warm sake his brother bought from the barman.
Out of nowhere, a slightly panicked North Italy approached the table of the Asian siblings. Noticing quick movement from the corner of his eye, Honda came face to face with his European friend.
"Japan! Have you seen my brother?"
"Iie. Gomenasai, Itary-san. Have you asked Germany?"
"Vee~! I have, and he said no either!"
"Italy! Just calm down!" exclaimed the slightly tipsy Germany. He placed an arm around Italy's shoulders, and forced a huge mug of beer into his hands. "He's a grown man! You shouldn't vorry too much! Here, have van of ze best beers in ze vorld!"
Ludwig forced the mug of German beer to Italy's lips, knowing that Veneziano will get drunk easily to forget his worries. After a few chugs, Veneziano's body relaxed and stopped tensing. The North Italian slowly swayed from side to side. A drunken smile was now apparent on his reddened face.
Japan gasped and caught Veneziano before his friend could fall on him. "Daijobu, Itary-san?! Here! Have some water to-"
"I don't need no water, Japan! Come on, vee~! Let's party and have a drinking contest!"
When one of the groups close-by heard this, they cheered at the idea. Numerous nations decided to second the motion. Soon, bets were called around the room. Both prizes for the winner and punishments for the losers were quickly negotiated by the crowd.
A unanimous decision was reached regarding the person who would supervise the event. Basch; Switzerland was made referee of the contest based on his unbiased personality. The blonde was secretly flattered by the unanimous vote.
Prussia looked at the trio; Japan, Italy, and Germany. The Axis trio's friendship reminded him so much of his younger days with Antonio and Francis.
Gilbert was the loud one who always got himself into trouble. He was the exact opposite of his brother; Ludwig. Francis was the flirtiest of the group and the most 'delicate'. He was the wilder version of Veneziano. Then, there was Antonio, the opposite of Honda. Despite the stark difference of their personalities, their family values and sense of protectiveness over love-ones were reflective of each other.
Prussia frowned at the sight of them. Honda, Ludwig, and Feli were having the time of their lives right now – together. Meanwhile, their own Trifecta was incomplete without Antonio. He frowned not out of annoyance, but out of jealousy – though he will never care to admit it to anyone. Perhaps he could talk to Gilbird about it later.
Francis followed Prussia's gaze, and he understood immediately. His gaze softened as he looked at the three nations. France was an open book; his emotions were easy to read.
"Time passed by way too quickly, eh mon ami?"
Gilbert replied with an almost imperceptible nod, "Yeah. They grow up way too quickly."
Francis gingerly sipped his wine because he wanted to savour its taste. All the while, he silently contemplated whether he should ask Gilbert the question he wanted to ask. Was Gilbert really that offended that Antonio was spending more time with Maria? Surely, Gilbert was aware that, by the hour, Antonio was spending just as much time with them during the day as he was spending the late afternoons and evenings with her.
"I'm not really that against her, y'know?" Gilbert's voice halted Francis' train of thought.
The Frenchman merely blinked at his friend, his wine still in his right hand. Did he, perhaps, voice his thoughts out loud? Did he space out for a little bit that he missed the subject matter of Gilbert's statement?
"Maria, I mean," Gilbert said before clearing his throat with a cough, almost as if he, once again, read Francis' mind.
"You seemed pretty offended though, Gil."
"Look," Gilbert begun after he released an exasperated sigh. He slid his left hand – that wasn't holding his mug of beer – down his face. "I know that his disappearances back in our conquering days were much worse than this. I get that. Whoring himself around the world with beautiful women is almost the same, too, but…"
Francis ears perked up. Even though Prussia's emotions ran rampant, paired together with a massive jug of beer, the country was – surprisingly to others, but not to Francis – coherent. He was making sense. He was also pouring his heart out, and Prussia was not normally like that.
"… but," Gilbert repeated, "I haven't seen him this caught up with a girl without his dick thinking for him, for once. Even though it was just a joke, I couldn't believe he would even suggest that she could be a part of our group. I mean, every single one of us; countries of the entire fucking world, had the common sense to make a consensus that we shouldn't get too attached!" Gilbert took a swig from his mug of beer and solemnly placed it back on the counter top when he turned around – his back now faced the crowd.
"Some of us know first-hand what it's like to be on the receiving end of those heartbreaking consequences," Gilbert trailed off.
It wasn't everyday that Gilbert would both be coherent and serious. Francis was stumped. Not only did it feel that Prussia was reading his mind, but Gilbert seemed to take a personal jab at him with those last words. Whether Gilbert was or not, Francis knew that Prussia was more tactful than others give him credit for. Surely, after centuries of knowing the ex-nation, Prussia would not say it for no reason. He did it, because he needed to.
For a moment, they shared not a word. Gilbert's eyes never met Francis' throughout his dialogue. The blonde took it as his friend's desire not to show the depth of his weakness. Prussia was prideful, after all. The Frenchman's eyes; however, never left his friend's face. He saw the worry etched behind those ruby eyes as they stared on the wooden floor.
Even though he shared Prussia's sentiments, he didn't want to deflate his friend any further. He opted to place a comforting hand on Gilbert's shoulder. Gilbert's head snapped up, a look of surprise at the unexpected contact, but it was gone just as quickly as it came. Those ruby eyes still held the sadness that he reigned so perfectly. His lips formed a thin line; blocking the words that he didn't want to voice out.
Francis offered him a gentle reassuring smile, which Gilbert softly returned.
"Bah! But who cares, right now? At this very moment, I just want to enjoy this!"
As if his change in mood was felt by the crowd in front of them, a collective cheer resonated in the bar. Francis and Gilbert's gaze turned to their fellow nations. At the sight before him, the mischievous fire returned in Prussia's eyes – enough to match their colour. His toothy grin also returned as he added, "… Especially if I see my little brother beating their arses in drinking!"
He raised his beer high up in the air as he stood up from his bar stool to cheer, "Hurrah Ludwig! You can do it! Big brother Prussia is here to make sure you stay awesome!"
Francis watched his friend disappear into the crowd, trying his best to reach his little brother without spilling a sip-worth of his drink. Gilbert reached Ludwig's side just in time before the German finished his last mug of beer. He proudly patted Ludwig on the back, before he took his little brother's hand in his and raised it high up in the air together with his own mug of beer.
Germany looked over Prussia until his eyes landed on the mug in the ex-nation's grasp. In his drunken stupor, Ludwig reached for the mug of beer – much to the chagrin and surprise of his sibling – and chugged its contents down. The crowd fell silent before Ludwig; who once again, raised another empty mug in the air.
The crowd went wild, and their cheering became louder. Francis grinned in amusement as he watched the two. Honda tried to wake Feli, Prussia joined in the fun, and challenged the crowd. Alfred stepped up to the plate, his hands were on his hips and his confidence was reflected in his heroic pose.
Francis sipped the last of his wine before he placed it down on the counter. He hopped off his stool and bent down to pick the drunk off the floor. He slung one of Arthur's arms around his shoulder, while another hand supported his fellow nation by the waist.
"Come, mon ami. The children were right, you need to go to bed."
Arthur softly slurred in agreement, "Thanks, Francis."
"Anytime, Angleterre," Francis said as he pulled Iggy closer for a better grip – not wanting him to fall over.
The Frenchman could smell the alcohol that reeked off the Englishman. He really was such a light weight for his age. Francis smirked, and proceeded to exit the bar before stating, "Just make sure you don't puke on my new Chanel jacket, this time."
"Yeah, yeah," Iggy huffed as he looked at Francis with a matching indignant pout, "I replaced it the last time, didn't I?"
"Oui, but it was Burberry, not Chanel."
"Burberry coats are better anyway!"
"Hmmmmmm," Francis deliberately hummed lengthily as he pretended to contemplate on Britain's rather passionate statement. The Frenchman simply replied with a flat "non."
From the corner of the bar, Matthew sat by the window sill as he watched the two older nations bicker. In his arms, he held a rather sleepy-looking Kumajirou. The polar bear yawned, rubbed his eyes, and fell limp in the nation's arms. Matthew cuddled the bear, and proceeded to his room for a good night sleep.
"Mannaggia! We leave in a few days and he preferred a hangover with that potato sucking bastard! Well, guess what, fratello? You're going to be kissing my ass when you find out that this movie isn't going to be appearing at home until a few months later!"
Romano arrived at a local theatre. Before the cashier could greet him, Romano dropped the money on the counter with a loud thud with his open palms. He was so cranky that the young male cashier kept his conversation, or lack thereof, to a bare minimum. The Italian didn't make it too hard for him. The cashier was clearly hesitant to ask him what movie he wanted to see. Romano didn't give him the chance to and merely pointed to a movie poster in severe irritation.
The cashier dared not move his head fully to check what poster Romano was pointing at. He feared that if he moved his head, the Italian would strike him dead. He may not enjoy his job, but he was still so young and had so much to live for!
With shaky hands, he handed the movie ticket to Romano. He booked the Italian the best seat in the house – one where it was not too close to the screen and remained at eye level. The Italian quickly glanced at his ticket, glared holes at the teenager, and grumbled a simple thank you.
Romano power walked to the snack and refreshment stands. Customers in the theatre seemed to know that he was in a foul mood because not one of them stood in his way. Without stopping, he looked at his watch. It was five past the movie start time written on his ticket.
"Meh, there's 15 minutes of advertisements anyway. I got time."
All the while, unbeknownst to him – if only he paid attention, a very familiar voice rang in the very same queue he was in.
Both you and Antonio waited in queue to purchase your refreshments and snacks for the movie. You adamantly offered to pay for them, out of embarrassment for making him wait by the entrance as you gallivanted the streets leisurely – promptness long forgotten.
The Spaniard did put up a fight – a gentleman as always, you noted. Despite your soft-spoken nature, you easily dominated when you persevered. When the screen projected the advertisements, you kept hearing an irate voice from behind you and Tonio. From what you heard, it seemed to be a young Italian man talking to himself. There was nobody replying to him, so you assumed he was by himself.
Tonio didn't seem to pay any mind to the grumbling man. Thankfully, his mumbling stopped as soon as the movie started. At least, the stranger had enough manners not to disrupt the movie experience of his fellow viewers.
Through out the movie, you felt a constant vibration from your seat. At first, you attributed the vibration to the theatre's surround sound system. Half-way through the movie, you realised that it was your phone. You hated pulling out your device while in the cinema, and you hated it even more when other people did it. The light was a distraction – especially during the darker scenes.
You refrained yourself from picking up the phone despite the constant vibration.
"Whatever it is, surely it can wait," you said to yourself.
Antonio, as oblivious as he could be at times, was not ignorant to the vibrations of your phone. If he was with Francis and Gilbert, he would have joked that someone was using a vibrator in the movie – even though the movie would not have warranted it at all. He looked over to you with a worried expression.
The Spaniard leaned a little bit to whisper, "Is everything ok?"
You blushed out of embarrassment. Antonio seemed to have also noticed your phone's excessive notification. His proximity also seemed to fuel your blush, if only a little.
"Y-yeah. Sorry about that," you whispered sheepishly. You rubbed the back of your neck, trying to will away the embarrassment of your phone disturbing your friend. "I should have turned my phone off completely instead of just putting it on silent."
Antonio chuckled and poked your blushing cheeks, "No tengas ciudado, chica."
Even though you weren't that fluent in Spanish, you understood what your friend said. You smiled at the thought, and your shoulders relaxed – not realising that the embarrassment made you tense.
"Shh!" came a voice from behind you. Judging by its general direction, you assumed it was from the very same grumpy guy behind you.
Both you and Antonio tensed and blush at the sound of someone reprimanding you both for disturbing their movie experience. You both shared a cringe of embarrassment and whispered an apology. You grabbed hold of your bag and placed it on the empty seat next to you, hoping that whatever it was didn't require truly require your immediate attention.
3rd person's POV
Antonio and Maria darted out of the theatre – hoping to God that they won't face the wrath of the person behind them now that the movie was finished. Antonio excused himself to the men's restroom, and Maria seated herself by the waiting area.
For a moment, she felt like procrastinating – not wanting to check her phone and see what caused the constant disturbance. This was her day off. She wanted to enjoy her leisure time a little bit more. She entertained herself by looking around the movie theatre while waiting for her friend.
"Then again," she thought to herself. "They wouldn't be trying to contact me over and over again if it wasn't important."
Hesitantly, Maria reached in her bag to procure her phone. After checking every available pocket of the bag twice, a feeling of dread settled in her stomach.
"Hey, what's wrong?" came the voice of Antonio.
"I can't find my phone!"
Spain empathised with Maria. A surge of panic coursed through him. "Ay yi yi, where did you see it last?"
"In the theatre," Maria replied as she continued to rummage through her bag.
"I'll go back there, you can stay here. I'll try and call your phone and see if I can find it," Antonio darted back to the theatre with his phone in hand.
"Thanks!" Maria exclaimed as she watched her friend leave.
She quickly went to the foyer where she roamed around a while ago – trying to retrace her steps.
Moments before…
As soon as the movie finished, Lovino saw the couple rush out of the theatre before the lights could completely illuminate the room. They weren't necessarily noisy, but their whispers were a little distracting during the quieter scenes.
Lovino gathered his snacks as he stood up from his seat. From his peripherals, he saw a small pocket of light on the seat next to where the girl sat. Now that the theatre was empty and quieter than before, he could hear it vibrate against the chair. Curious, he looked. It was a mobile phone.
He looked around the theatre and found himself alone. The vibration also stopped. He turned back towards the abandoned phone on the row below and picked it up. Romano pressed the power button to light up the screen.
The lock screen's image was that of a girl, whom he assumed to be the owner of the phone. He thought that it couldn't be her companion's phone either since the phone was found next to her seat, not his.
"Hmph, they aren't together then," Romano deduced as he looked for any signs in the photo that the girl was committed. When it came to romance, Romano considered himself a savant. "Either she's single and she's on one of the early stages of dating, or they're just friends."
The woman in the photo was posing next to a snowman that was taller than her. Judging by the rosy cheeks, the clumps of snow on her clothes, and her posture; casually leaning against the snowman, he assumed that she built the thing herself. If it was someone else's, she wouldn't look as haggard in the photo, nor would she lean so casually on it with the risk of toppling it over. At least, he liked to believe it was the best possible explanation.
She's pretty cute… Really cute, Romano thought to himself. Finding her and giving her phone back would give him an opportunity to get to know her a bit better. Hopefully, the guy she was with wasn't her boyfriend.
His eyes scanned the rest of the screen, and he found his eye twitch at the sight of the notification bar.
"Th-that's a lot of missed calls," Romano said. He dragged his finger down the screen and found that the 10 or so missed calls were from one person. It was either this 'Luke' guy was a stalker, a jilted ex-lover who's still obsessed with her, or there was some sort of an emergency.
The latter urged the Italian to leave the theatre in haste. He also remembered the general colour palette of her clothes, and he hoped he could easily spot her from the crowd. That is, if the girl was even still within the vicinity.
Romano kept the phone in his grasp to use the lock screen photo as a reference while searching for her. Just before he was close to giving up, he found her.
Maria retraced her steps while thinking of all the possible places she could have left her phone. Romano straightened his shirt, lightly fixed his hair, closed his eyes for a brief second, and took a deep breath before he confidently strode towards her.
A charming lopsided smirk graced his lips as he entered his domain. Charming and seducing women effortlessly was his forte. He would never care to admit it, but he learnt a lot from Spain's tutelage. After all, one of the first Spanish phrases that Spain taught him was dame un beso.
"Mi scusi, signorina," Romano said as he tapped Maria's shoulder.
The frantic girl paused in her search and turned around to face him. A look of both concern and confusion evident in her eyes.
"Can I help you, sir?" replied Maria.
"Cute and polite", Romano thought to himself. The Italian procured the abandoned mobile phone to show Maria. He pressed the power button, and the lock screen image was revealed. The smile on her face grew reflective to that of the image's. She slowly reached towards the device, almost as if wanting to make sure she wasn't imagining the return of her possession. Romano couldn't help but lose his smirk. The wash of relief on her facial features brought a smile to his face. "I believe this is yours."
Romano took Maria's outstretched hand in his and gently placed the device in her grasps. She looked up towards the stranger. She recognised that unmistakeable accent. It was the same grumpy Italian man who shushed her and Antonio in the theatre. Upon realising this, blood quickly rushed to her face as she tensed. His hands still enveloped hers and their proximity only made her more aware of how handsome and charming he was. These thoughts only made her blush more.
The Italian took notice of her reaction. He always found glee in making women blush – in more ways than one. Swiftly and smoothly, he jested to lift the tension, "… Unless I am mistaken. Hmm… let's see," Romano, while still holding Maria's hand that held the phone, flipped the device over to face him. He pressed the power button once again and pretended to inspect the lock screen image for comparison.
"Hmm, pretty blue eyes, long luscious black hair, a captivating smile… Yes, I am confident you are the beautiful lady in the photo."
Maria did not think her blushing could get any worse from Romano's compliments. She realised how wrong she was. Antonio always complimented her so openly, yet she felt that she still never got used to it. As flattered as she was, she kind of wished her friend was there to help ease her embarrassment. All she could really do now was mutter a polite thank you to Lovino.
She continued to hold the device, almost as if she was making sure that it won't leave her person again. She had to call Antonio to let him know she got her phone, and she also had to deal with the caller from before. Maria was polite to a fault, and she contemplated whether it was rude for her to call Antonio while the handsome Samaritan was still speaking to her. Then again, if she waited for him to finish speaking, it would be rude to her friend for not being notified to cease the search earlier.
Thankfully, she didn't have to worry. Before they could even utter another word, a familiar voice called out – the voice got louder as the person jogged towards their direction, "Maria, lo siento. I could not find your ph-"
Antonio paused in his tracks as his eyes landed on the young nation, who immediately tensed at the sound of his voice. Romano slowly turned around while Antonio merely blinked in surprise.
"Romano?!"
"Spain!?"
The two nations stared at each other; one out of surprise, the other out of awful realisation.
Antonio couldn't believe it. What a coincidence it was to run into the nation he considered to be both his son and little brother while he was out. Romano, on the other hand, was mortified when he realised that he was flirting with Spain's date. Even though he liked one-upping the older nation when romancing women, he was old and tact enough not to go for someone else's woman.
Their little staring contest was cut short when Maria cocked her head to the side and inquisitively asked, "Who's Spain?"
Antonio, Maria, and Lovino sat in a booth in the warm and inviting café next to the cinema. Lovino sat across the two, his eyes narrowed while he sipped his coffee. He mentally kicked himself for not realising sooner. He should have recognised the Spaniard anywhere. He did spend centuries living under Antonio's roof, after all.
Romano's gaze settled on the shy girl who sat between his father-figure and the window. He could see cars passing by, and a few firetrucks with their siren lights on. The sound would have disrupted the cozy atmosphere if it was not for the thick window glass that muffled it.
Maria gently picked up the teapot and poured herself a cup. As she did so, Antonio picked up the teacup's saucer and placed two freshly plucked sugar cubes from the sugar jar. Lovino continued to observe silently – an inquisitive eyebrow now raised.
Antonio used the tongs to split one of the sugar cubes in half. Then, he gently placed half of it on Maria's tea spoon; which sat on the saucer. The other half, he dropped in his coffee. Antonio passed the milk pot and saucer back to her just as she turned her head in his direction after pouring her tea.
"Gracias," Maria said as she took the items from the Spaniard.
"De nada," Antonio casually replied.
She dropped the sugar cubes in her hot drink and stirred. Antonio did the same. Romano stared at the two in disbelief. His mouth hung slightly agape and his eyebrows furrowed together. He was both confused and amazed at their synchronisation. He took a big sip of his coffee, and his eyes never left the two.
He stared harder at Maria, trying his best to remember if he saw her somewhere before. Maybe she was one of Spain's new staff; a secretary, perhaps? But he didn't remember seeing her in the Summit, either. She also couldn't possibly be another nation since she didn't know who "Spain" was. He also had to kick himself for that. He should have known better than calling a fellow country's non-human name in public.
The two male nations lied through their teeth when they gave her their perfectly rehearsed explanation. They both explained that their social circle would sometimes affectionately call each other by the names of their country of origin. Antonio also introduced Romano as his good friend; one that he treated as a little brother; or a son when he needed reprimanding. The latter comment granted Spain the Italian's verbal lashing – to a minute degree as he was in the presence of a lady. The Spaniard merely laughed, followed by a giggle from Maria.
If she wasn't a staff member, she could only be one other thing. Romano was quite aware of the Hispanic's romantic 'sex-capades'; as he liked to call it. Spain would usually have a different sexual partner each time. Some he saw twice or thrice, but not enough to remember their name. He did not run short of young very beautiful and very willing women, either.
Upon the evidence before him, their behaviour did not warrant such an explanation. Antonio may have thrown her a compliment or two, but nothing worthy of note. They didn't close the gap between them, as well. There was a comfortable amount of space that projected comradery and kinship rather than romance. Their synchronicity was astounding to witness, and it only left him with more questions.
Even though the older nation was generally oblivious, he was still tactful and subtle in public with his sex-capades. Antonio never introduced any of his fuck buddies to his family and friends. He didn't find the need to. He would have a new one the next day. He also efficiently separated his sex life from the rest of his personal life.
If that was the case, why did Antonio happily introduce him to Maria? Perhaps, it was because he already ran into the couple, and it would be rude not to. Even if that was the case, Antonio seemed to know her well enough. So much so that he knew that she took exactly a cube and a half of sugar, and a dash of milk with her tea, without even asking. The sense of familiarity was quite evident, but it just didn't make sense.
"… think, Romano?" a voice echoed in the background.
And where the hell were the other two? The three of them were practically inseparable.
"…Romano? Oi, Romano!"
The South Italian snapped out of his thoughts as Spain's voice finally registered, "Huh?"
"Are you ok? You were spaced out for a while," asked Maria with a concerned look.
Romano blushed; embarrassed that he was caught not paying attention. He quickly racked his brain for an excuse, "s-si, I'm fine. Just – uh – thinking about… how good the coffee is."
"Sí, ¿verdad?" Antonio agreed cheerily. "The blend is pretty good for how much it was!"
Romano rolled his eyes at Antonio and replied, "Even the cheapest of coffee is better than yours, Spain."
The Spaniard scoffed at the South Italian in offense, jaw agape at the wounding comment, "Que?!"
"You heard me," Romano mumbled under his breath; enough for the Spaniard to hear, as he took a satisfied sip of his coffee. "Why do you think your café doesn't get many customers?"
Antonio tensed. He could feel his heart drop, his soul leaving his form, and his body turn into stone. Maria had to cover her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud at the expense of her friend.
"You had a café?"
"Correction, carina, he still has a café," Romano said before gulping down the last of his coffee. "By some miracle, it is still up and running. I honestly don't know how, or why he continues to stand behind the counter with that goofy smile on his face. It's as if someone will actually walk in his shop!"
"That's a bit too much, don't you think?" an annoyed and very insulted Spaniard retorted. He stood up from where he sat with one accusatory finger pointed at the Italian across from him.
Romano continued as if his big-brother figure said nothing, "the one time he had a soul walk in there, he could only serve the guy instant coffee because he didn't have enough money to get coffee beans!"
At this point, Antonio felt his jaw drop on the floor. His body slumped back on the cushioned bench in defeat as he was being roasted by his underling.
Maria couldn't help but laugh out loud. Everything Romano said, she could see it happening. She imagined her friend wearing that barista apron, a huge fat smile on his face as he patiently waited for a customer, enthusiastic beyond belief, only to serve his lone customer with instant coffee.
"Chica…" Antonio said pitifully as he turned to look at his friend with sorrowful eyes. "You laugh at me, too?"
Amidst her laughter, she did her best to reply, "N-no, Toni – hahaha! I'm not laughing at you." Maria wiped the tears from her eyes and gained her composure. "I was laughing because I could actually see that happening. It's kind of endearing."
At the last comment, Romano gave her an incredulous look. He found it weird that she found the Spaniard's little quirk endearing.
"R-really, chica?" asked Spain.
Before Maria could reply, Lovino intervened with a scoff.
"She is just being polite, Spain."
"Why don't you shut up, Romano!"
"You're still using your king's quote to Chavez? I thought you would have gotten over that."
Maria looked from one brunet to the other as they argued back and forth. Normally, she would have felt awkward, but their argument was so petty that she only found it hilarious. Before she could try to chime in, she felt her phone vibrate. It was only then that she remembered the numerous miscalls that she had.
She quickly took her phone out of her bag and answered. She wanted to take the phone call outside, but she didn't want to interrupt the two friends. She turned towards the windows; her back facing the two. She cupped a hand over her mouth and phone so the other person on the line could hear her better, "Hello?"
"Maria? Oh thank God, you answered."
"Oh, hey. I'm sorry about that. I was at the movies with my friends," Maria replied to Luke. She paused for a moment as she heard a commotion in the background. She couldn't really discern what they were saying, but it didn't sound good. Her anxiety spiked, and her voice sounded hesitant, "Luke?"
Luke didn't answer. She heard him bark orders for others to leave the area. Little by little, she pieced together that he was quickly arranging some sort of evacuation.
"Hello?!" Maria raised her voice, hoping to gain her friend's attention.
At the sound of her panicked voice, the two countries immediately ceased their banter and listened in. They saw her eyes flick through the different scenarios that ran in her head. Her mouth quivered as her breathing became ragged in panic. Antonio tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder, silently telling her that he was there to support her.
She heard the commotion from the other end getting louder and louder. It was only when she heard it that it all made sense. It was the one word that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
Fire…
What once was a beautiful quaint church, now reduced to a pile of black soot and rubble. Maria sat on what was left of the front porch steps as she stared into the distance. Her eyes were red. She didn't want to cry. She refused to break down in front of everyone when their spirits were already low as it was.
It all happened so quickly.
An hour or so ago, she was having fun with the brothers at the café. When the phone call ended, she quickly stashed her phone inside her bag and stood up from her seat. Her panicked voice swiftly broke the brothers bantering, but her hurried actions made them worry more. Antonio spoke and asked her if anything was the matter.
She didn't realise it until both countries looked at her in shock. Warm tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried her best to be coherent. Unfortunately, she could only give a broken reply. Antonio quickly took her in his arms to comfort her, while Lovino paid the check for their table.
The Spaniard knew she was in no state to drive, so he gently took the keys from her shaking hands. Both brothers insisted that they came along, and Maria was in no state to argue either. Antonio drove them to the church without consulting her for directions, having visited the place numerous times.
Upon their arrival, they were met with a grim sight. The church and the surrounding buildings were caught on fire. The three of them did not hesitate to assist the victims and authorities. Romano assisted in herding the children to a safer area. Antonio assisted the firefighters, to Maria's surprise, he apparently had a lot of experience in dealing with these types of accidents. Of course, as an older nation, he had his fair share of experience with war and dangerous events. Maria assisted the paramedics as much as she could.
After what felt like an hour, some of the fires were finally extinguished, but the church and many of the other surrounding buildings were completely burnt down. The church was well kept despite its age, but no matter how well maintained it was, it was no match to the roaring flames.
She felt her heart sink at the thought. The church held so many precious memories for her. Seeing it reduced to ashes was painful, and she had to constantly remind herself that at least no one perished in the flames.
Romano was on his phone; trying to contact Britain to let him know of what happened. Unfortunately, it was fruitless, and it led to Romano swearing under his breath in frustration. Unbeknownst to him, Iggy was too drunk to take notice of his phone's constant ringing. Francis also left him after tucking him to bed with water and some aspirins on the bedside table. After a while of fruitless endeavour, he decided to contact Iggy's assistant instead, or anyone that could possibly know where he was.
Meanwhile, Antonio spoke with Pastor Liam in the charred backyard of the church. His eyes flitted towards Maria now and then, growing worried with every look. When Antonio's gaze lingered, Pastor Liam strained his head to the direction that caught the country's interest. When he realised that the Spaniard's worried look was directed at Maria, he smiled softly with sadness.
"Maria is taking it pretty hard."
It was only when Liam spoke about her that Antonio realised that he was staring. Mostly feeling unapologetic about it, he paid no mind to the rudeness of his behaviour; spacing out in the middle of a discussion. The Spaniard acknowledged his statement, however.
"It would seem like it."
Silence lingered, but for a moment, until Pastor Liam spoke again. "You know, she wasn't as active in church back then."
Antonio raised a curious eyebrow. As far as he knew, Maria spent a lot of her free time at the church. When she wasn't working, she would be there practising or helping. Antonio couldn't imagine that his friend wasn't as devout back then.
"Que?"
Pastor Liam chuckled, "Yes, I know. Unbelievable, right? It was her nana that encouraged her to attend more often. Even though Nana Consuela was Catholic, she respected Maria's family's beliefs and took her here every Sunday."
Antonio remembered that her parents were in Belfast, while she stayed here in London. He didn't know that she had a nana.
"Nana?" Antonio kind of felt illiterate; replying to the man with a single word twice.
Pastor Liam didn't mind, though. He explained, "Oh, she didn't tell you? Her parents were always too busy working overseas most of the time. Her nana practically raised her. When she obtained a job relative to her previous degree, Nana Consuela got ill due to her age. Maria contacted her Consuela's family, and her parents even prepared for her travel expenses to get her home. Consuela was such a good woman. She didn't want to leave Maria alone. After all, she treated Maria as if she was her own daughter."
"Was?" Antonio thought to himself. "Where's Nana Consuela now?"
Pastor Liam's face dropped before he replied, "She… she passed away soon after her family arrived. Maria's family didn't want Consuela to go back to Spain by herself, so they got Consuela's family to come to London. We held the procession here at the church." Liam's eyes turned to the rubble before him. "- or what is left of the church. Consuela's family took her ashes back home, and Maria continued to be active in church. I'm sure she did that mostly to commemorate the lessons and the memories she had of her nana. Now that the church is gone…"
"… it's almost like she lost a big part of her memories of Nana Consuela," Antonio softly whispered; enough for Pastor Liam to hear.
"This place is merely a building made of stone and wood. It can be rebuilt, my son," Pastor Liam said as he placed a comforting hand on Antonio's shoulder. "A church is built upon the love of God and His children. Our body is the Holy Spirit's temple, and we can always find a place of worship within us. We don't need a building to worship God. We can do it anywhere so long as we are all together."
Pastor Liam gave Antonio another squeeze. "I get a strong sense that you would be able to console her better than I could. Could you please talk to her, my son?"
Antonio gave the pastor a soft smile and replied, "You don't need to ask that of me, father."
Pastor Liam pulled his hand back as he smiled, "Thank you."
With that, Antonio walked towards Maria, her back to him. She heard someone approach, but she didn't care to look back as she was lost in thought. He sat beside her, gave her one quick look, then turned to look ahead at nothing in particular.
He waited to see if she would say something, but a few seconds passed and not even a sigh escaped her lips. He wasn't sure what to do. He had to admit that he didn't have much experience in consoling a mortal, let alone one that he considered a friend. He tried to remember how he consoled his female colonies centuries ago. He remembered that most of them were little children at the time, so it was not that hard to placate them. When they got older, they refused to show him weakness because they sought independence from him. That saved him from having to try.
He couldn't really console Maria the way he did with Francis and Gilbert. Handing her a beer and a willing woman to bed with, was most certainly not appropriate. He then thought about how he consoled Romano when the Italian used to cry and whine all day. A soft stroke on the head or the back calmed Romano down a lot. She wasn't a child, though. So he thought of the next best thing.
Antonio slowly placed an arm around Maria's shoulders. He could feel her tense up at the contact, but she soon relaxed when it occurred to her that Antonio was the one soothing her. He gently rubbed her left shoulder, soothing her more. Maria may have become friends with Antonio, but she didn't want to show him how vulnerable she was at that moment.
Since Nana Consuela's passing, she became independent rather quickly; especially emotionally. As of now, she knew she needed a shoulder to cry on. She needed someone to console her and help her carry the burden. Even if it was for just a little bit.
She placed her right on Antonio's left hand; the one that rubbed her shoulder. He took this as an opportunity to speak up, "It will be alright, Maria."
She could feel the fresh tears in her eyes. She fought hard to not let them fall.
"I'm here for you,"
With that, Maria finally broke down. The way he said it was so genuine, she could hear it in his voice. She could feel his genuine concern and how he meant every word. Her body had a mind of its own and it refused to let her contain her sadness.
Antonio pulled her closer to him as he let her cry on his chest and rest her forehead on the crook of his neck. With both arms now around her, his other hand stroke her long ebony hair to calm her down. His arms firmly secured her in place as he spoke words of comfort. She placed her hands around his waist as she sobbed.
They stayed like that for a while. Nobody bothered them. Even when her breathing finally became even, he didn't stop stroking her hair or holding her in place.
He felt like he lied to himself. He knew how to console a woman in more ways than one. That was the basic truth of it. What he did not know was how to console a woman whom he genuinely cared for. He normally worked the charm by telling them what they wanted to hear. Once they have gotten over whatever they were crying about, they seek him out – craving the Spaniard's allure and his honeyed, yet empty words. It was out of his selfish needs that he did so, not out of the goodness of his heart. Of course, it always led to him bedding them, but it didn't always end well after that.
It was only natural that they developed feelings for him. It was also only natural of him to reject them after the deed was done. Of course, he never harboured the same feelings back. They would cry tears of anger, swear at him, then proceed to throw things around – most were the innocent ornaments around his house. He learnt his lesson to never put anything of historical and monetary value at the foyer of his house, unless they're bolted in place – lest he wished them to be thrown at him out of spite in future.
He remembered the old saying, "Heav'n has no rage like love to hatred turn'd. Nor hell a fury, like a woman scorn'd."
Maria was different, though. He reminded himself. This was different. She was his friend, and he needed to be there for her in her time of need. He pulled away just a little, and looked down to look at her face. She may have stopped crying, but her face did not betray the pain she felt.
"Thank you," Maria said with a voice so hoarse.
"Of course. There was no way I would leave you like that,"
"N-no," Maria said as she shook her head. She pulled away completely with her hands now folded on her lap. "I mean, not just for coming with me, but for everything. You and Romano helped out a lot more than I could ask for. You also didn't have to put yourself in peril, but you did."
Her eyes travelled down to his cheek where a black mark of soot stained his handsome sun-tanned face. Without thinking, she took her handkerchief and gently wiped the stain with a gentle smile on her face.
Antonio was slightly taken aback; his green eyes widened. It was such a tender gesture that he couldn't help but blush. He didn't look away from her, though. He let her continue as he secretly enjoyed the attention.
"Thank you," she said once again. "You are truly a good man."
He felt his face get warmer despite the cold winter weather. Though the embers have long been extinguished and danger was no longer present, he felt his heart skip a beat. It was both wonderful and scary. So, he paid it no mind.
"Oh Maria, you are too kind."
"I mean it, Antonio."
There it was again – as soon as she said his name.
The Spaniard paid it no mind, once again, believing it to be the after effects of the adrenaline from before. He smiled in her direction and replied, "I know, mi dulzura. I know."
She gave him a bigger smile in return, only for it to falter once again. Her eyes looked back to the ground, then up towards the group of children across the street. Their faces were marred with soot, and some had a part of their hair and clothing singed. Antonio followed her gaze, and his smile also disappeared.
"The children…" Maria said as her voice trailed off. "Where will they go?"
"I overheard the police. They said they will be taking the children to a shelter nearby."
Maria frowned. "No child should be spending Christmas like that. Not only do they not have a family of their own, the place they once called home is now reduced to ashes. We were supposed to surprise them with gifts from the donations in church, but…" Maria looked back towards the burnt down church, and Antonio's gaze also followed. "… even that has gone up in flames."
Antonio gazed at the sight behind him. There really was nothing worth foraging. The church will have to be completely rebuilt again, and they will have to find a temporary place to conduct the mass.
Then, it hit him. Antonio remembered the conversation he just had with Pastor Liam. His mind went into overdrive, and he felt a shot of adrenaline fuelling his excitement. He may just have the means to make his idea work.
"Mi dulce, I think I have an idea."
END OF CHAPTER:
Author's note: Ok, I have to cut it there. I was gonna type some more, but I actually had to keep cutting it down before you guys get too bored to read. :P I know words are cheap, but I actually have finished planning this whole series. I have a document that has the storyline I want each and every chapter to have.
OOOOOHHHH I cannot wait to get to the next part. I hope you are looking forward to it. My sincerest apologies for making you guys wait so darn long. I hope this was worth the wait. 13K+ words in this darn document! I also like to think that my writing has significantly improved from before. I hope you like it!