A/N: Thanks for the reviews, I'm glad you like it!
Cooper101: Thank you for bringing those questions up. I honestly hadn't thought about that. Hopefully I will be able to answer them in later chapters.
Im sorry this chapter is so short!
Spain visibly deflates when the revolver comes to a halt with the muzzle pointing directly at him. He isn't sure why he came, he isn't even sure why he hasn't left yet. There's just this feeling that's telling him that he can't leave, that he can't escape this awful game. He can see it in the faces of the others that they feel it too. It's just a feeling, though. Why can't they leave? Spain starts to get up and pauses. No, he can't leave. He needs to stay, if not for his own curiosity to see who ends up dead, then for his friends. It's better that the bullet goes through his own skull than the skull of someone he cares deeply about. Slowly, he sits back down and reaches for the revolver. Spinning the cylinder, he raises it to his head.
There is a crash as a vase shatter in the next room. The Spaniard sighs, surely it shouldn't be so hard to sweep. Carefully, he heaves himself to his feet and limps to the source of the crash. He has to suppress another sigh at the sight of the young boy sitting in the middle of the shards of unpainted clay. "Do I need to ask?"
"Shut up"
Spain heaved another sigh, wondering what the young Italian could have possibly been doing this time.
"What happened?" The Italian mumbles an answer, turning his back to the worn Spaniard.
"Speak up. I can't hear you"
"I wanted to paint it for you" Spain lets a smile appear on his face.
"Clean this up, then you may go to bed. We'll make a new one tomorrow" Spain makes his way out of the room as the Italian scurries to clean the mess. With the battles going against his favor these days, this little gesture meant a lot to the Spaniard.
Click. Closing his eyes with relief, Spain places the revolver in the center of the table and spins.
A/N: So, who do you think is next? Who do you think will lose?