I'm updating early for this chapter because a sudden burst of creativity literally combusted out of me this morning and I started typing like a madwoman, thus leading to the quick completion of Chapter 12. I'll probably be continuing this insane writing craze tomorrow [since it's like really late right now] so Chapter 13 won't be a long wait. Enjoy the read :)
At around three in the afternoon, both Spain and Romano grew tired and agreed that they would stop at a local restaurant to replenish their energy [and stomachs]. After wandering aimlessly about the large city of Providence, they spotted a quaint diner that appeared to be open for business. When the two nations walked inside, a robust middle-aged waitress immediately greeted the men with a beaming smile and led them to their booth. They had a nice view of the street from their window and the diner wasn't completely deserted or too crowded, so the atmosphere felt pleasant.
"Hi there, my name is Susan and I'll be your waitress for this afternoon. What can I get for you fellas?" Susan asked, pulling out a pen and notepad to take notes. Romano noticed that the menu didn't have a large variety of choices, but the food itself was decent enough, so he sent her a kind smile and gave his order.
"I'll have two slices of apple pie, please, and some marmalade jam on the side."
"Gotcha; two slices of apple pie and marmalade jam on the side. And you, sir?" she asked, directing her attention to the Spaniard that was still looking over his options.
"Umm, I'll have one bagel with cream cheese and ham, please," Spain said sheepishly, truly unsure of whether or not he had made the right decision. The woman smiled and jotted his order down on her notepad, humming a bit as she did so.
"Sure thing, hon'. Ya want anythin' to drink?" Susan questioned, her gaze softening as she noticed the look of alarm on each of their faces. The personifications clearly hadn't a single clue on what they were supposed to do and didn't want to offend the woman with any of their actions; both knew not what manners in America were like, and Susan spoke casually as well, so that added to their nervousness. But the uneasy feeling that the two experienced didn't offset Spain for long as he immediately responded to her question.
"Tomato juice please~!" the Spanish nation sang with a beaming expression that made Romano's heart melt. Their server smiled sadly and shook her head.
"Sorry sweetie, we don't make that here, but if ya want I can recommend somthin' for ya," she added, noticing the 'kicked puppy' expression on the man's face and taking pity on him. The Italian seated across from the Spanish country simply let out an exasperated and embarrassed sigh, blushing furiously as his agitation grew. He's making a fool out of himself, that Spaniard.
"Aww, well then I'll gladly order what you recommend, Miss Susan," Spain said, addressing her as if she were his primary school teacher. That only made Romano blush more and Susan giggled a bit at the adorable expressions both wore; Spain's childlike demeanor and Romano's blazing red face.
"'Kay then, since ya like fruits so much, how 'bout a strawberry smoothie?" she suggested.
"Alright, I'll have that~! What about you, Lovino?" Spain asked and turned to look at the wide eyed Southern Italian. That was the first time the Spaniard had called him his human name, and he had enjoyed hearing a lovely Spanish accent added to it. Still in a bit of shock and blushing furiously, Romano looked up at Susan and cleared his throat.
"A ginger ale, please," he muttered, trying to maintain a calm face. The woman finished writing down all their orders and, after reading them out loud, she left their table to tell the diner's cook. Romano looked out the window nervously, wondering whether or not Spain had noticed the affect his words had on him. I wonder if I'm allowed to call him 'Antonio' now.
"Lovi, what's the matter?" the Spaniard asked, making the man he was addressing the question to turn his head in confusion.
"L-Lovi? What the hell is that?"
"Why it's you of course! I think it's a wonderful nickname, and since I call you 'Roma' when you're 'Romano', it only makes sense~!" Spain declared, an even wider smile gracing the nation's tanned features. His Italian companion's face heated up and the man sputtered expletives in his native language before speaking normally again.
"It's a ridiculous nickname, bastardo."
"Language, Lovi~"
"Don't call me that!"
Meanwhile, Susan watched both nations from behind the counter while trying to restrain her giggles. She couldn't help but find the two of them cute in every way possible, and watching their 'lovey dovey' quarrelling nearly reduced her to tears of ecstasy. Yes, the brunette believed that her customers at the fifth table were together in that way, or perhaps the two were crushing on each other.
The aged woman pondered back on her days when she was young and energetic like them, looking for the one companion that she would stay with forever. Turning around, Susan watched her son with a loving smile as he prepared the customer's orders, maintaining a concentrated expression while kneading clumps of dough. He's just like his pa, that boy. Grabbing Romano and Spain's drinks, she walked over to their table and set the beverages down as gently as possible.
"Here ya go, dears; one strawberry smoothie and one ginger ale. Your food'll be out in a bit, so just sit tight," Susan assured, and then walked over to the counter to serve the other customers.
"She's such a nice lady, like a mother or something. Are all Americans this friendly?" Spain wondered out loud, followed by the Spaniard testing his smoothie with a loud slurp. The Southern Italian seated with him winced at the obnoxious sound and took a small sip of his drink.
"I don't know, maybe. But if you think about it, she had an accent I can't really place, so maybe she's from the good part of America," Romano suggested. The older nation shrugged his shoulders and went for another gulp from the half empty glass, making his seatmate frown with annoyance.
"You shouldn't drink all of that, idiot, the food isn't here yet."
"Hmm, alright then. Say, where exactly are we right now?" Spain asked and earnt an incredulous look from the man seated opposite to him. Romano stared at the imbecile for awhile, then sighed and pulled a small map out of his coat. Spreading it out a bit, he pointed to an area that appeared to be crowded with buildings judging from the drawings.
"See this? It's called Providence, which is the city we're in right now. It's also the capitol of Rhode Island, which is a state, since you probably don't know that." He then used his finger to trace over a dark blue line that marked across the map and all the way to a red 'X'. "This spot marks our destination, Cape Cod. I think that if we leave after we finish our food it'll probably take a little over an hour or so to get there." Spain observed the map once more, and then rested his head on his hands, sighing in defeat.
"So I guess we aren't that far away, huh? Anyways, where are we going to stay when we get there? Did America already book us a hotel or is it up to us?" he asked, watching Romano take another small sip of his ginger ale.
"Well, in this case he did book us a reservation at some hotel, but not all our trips will be like that. I guess it makes sense for us to get ourselves places to stay, considering that the other locations we have to go to are a bit small town-ish, not to mention the items might have very outdoorsy locations. But for Cape Cod, Columbus and Napa Valley, Hong Kong approached me earlier and said that our hotels has already been taken care of," the Italian explained, noticing that Susan was walking over to their table with a tray in her hands. He moved the map out of the way so she could set their plates down, but not before she had noticed the paper.
"Ah, so I was right. I take it you two are foreigners out to do some sightseein'?" she inquired, placing their food on the table gently. Both men exchanged glances, and then Spain smiled, letting Romano know that it was okay to explain. He nodded in compliance.
"Yes, something like that. We're travelling to a few states for… business purposes," the Italian answered. Susan clapped her hands together and smiled brightly.
"Oh, I see! Business purposes, huh? And, if I may ask, where do you two come from? You look so alike, I'm sure you're brothers," she stated, wanting to know more about the cute couple eating in her husband's diner. The woman noticed both men turn bright red and she smirked victoriously. Guess not, huh?
"N-No, miss, we're not related; he's Italian and I'm Spanish. We took a flight from Spain all the way to Washington D.C., and from there we're driving until we reach Cape Cod," the Spanish nation answered, smiling brightly at their server [although he thought her to be a bit nosy, he supposed that that was just how most Americans were]. Romano simply nodded in agreement.
For some strange reason, though, he swore that Susan was giving both men a predatory sort of grin, kind of like the ones that the female personifications would make whenever they looked upon their male peers. But he shrugged the speculation off and blamed lack of sleep on his 'hallucinating' [however, the poor Italian wasn't seeing things].
"I suppose that explains you're accents, for the most part. Ah, well then I best be lettin' you two enjoy your food. You can always ring that bell over there if ya need anythin'," she said, then walked away. Romano examined his apple pie with caution, although the intoxicating aroma of the pastry proved its satisfying culinary value. Carefully, the Italian took a bite, and then his taste buds burst with flavour. The outside of the pie was buttery and a tad crisp, but the inside was stick and sweet with chunks of soft, cooked apples. All in all, he liked the pie very much.
His contentment was evident due to the bright expression Romano wore as he continued eating his tart. Spain watched the Italian with glee, finding his way of eating elegant and adorable at the same time. The Spaniard merely took bites out of his bagel, not caring much for the cheesiness of his meal [besides, it was far too buttery for his tastes]. Romano didn't notice that he was being observed, for he was far too immersed in eating his delicious dessert. After finishing his fourth piece [since he decided that he wanted more] the man finally looked up and met enchanting green eyes staring at him. He blushed furiously, looking away and fumbling with the zipper of his coat.
The two men agreed that they had finished their meal and stood up so that they could go pay the bill. Susan noticed this and was saddened a bit by their departure, but nonetheless she smiled brightly at both gentlemen.
"Now I hope you boys enjoyed your food," she said with considerate warmth.
"Of course, Miss Susan, it was great~!" Spain assured, patting her affectionately on the arm. Romano paled quickly, wondering whether or not it was acceptable to touch a woman you didn't know in American society. Susan, however, seemed to brush it off and patted both of their shoulder in return with a laugh. The Italian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in and smiled at the nurturing woman.
"Well you can thank my son for that. Have a safe trip, you two-"
"Lovino, miss." The younger nation said, cutting her off momentarily. "I'm Lovino, and this is... Antonio." Romano stated the last part with hidden pleasure, delighted by the fact that he had finally said his Spanish companion's name. Said person appeared to be shocked, if not equally pleased as well, and turned bright red from embarrassment.
"Lovino and Antonio, huh? 'Kay then, drive safe and don't talk to shady lookin' strangers!" she warned both nations with the protectiveness of a mother, making Romano let out a small laugh as he waved to her from the diner's entrance. Although women in Italy could be just as sweet, he didn't expect to find those sort of people living in the 'burger bastard's' country of all places. Entering the jeep and pulling out their map, Romano studied the paper before giving Spain a curt nod, indicating that it was about time the two left Providence.
After driving past the Marston Mills Airfield and the Bayberry Hills Golf Course, their Italian navigator predicted that it would be less than an hour before they arrived at the Sandbars Inn. America had commented on the great view that each beach had to offer and as Romano stared at the bright beaming sun, he couldn't help but agree. Cape Cod—locally referred to simply as the Cape—had a hook sort of shape to it, but the Italian could tell that tourism was a booming business year around. The sand was grainy and appeared to be healthy, and different species of birds could be seen everywhere he looked.
"It's so beautiful," he muttered to no one in particular, still awestruck by the magnificent sight before him. It had been awhile since he had been to that part of the world, and as a nation he preferred to enjoy his freedom while it lasted. Spain turned for a short moment to look at the younger personification, his glowing auburn hair blowing in the wind. Trying to focus on the road had become a difficult task for the Spaniard, as he was constantly reminded of his love's presence and didn't know what to do other than bask in the man's beauty.
"It sure is," he whispered in return, earning a curious look from Romano. "Th-The scenery, I mean."
Minutes later, both men could see the small wooden sign that had "Sandbar Inn" clearly labeled with gold coloured letters and lawn lights, although it was daytime so they weren't turned on. While Spain pulled their things out of the back of their Jeep and into the lobby, Romano spoke to a woman at the front desk about their reservations.
"Oh yes, you're the ones Mr. Jones sent over, correct? Here, he said to give this to you and your friend as soon as you arrived," she stated, and handed the Italian a sealed envelope with the words 'Tomatoes Group' scribbled on the back. He stared at it for awhile, and then thanked the woman as he walked over to his Spanish companion and pulled him towards the stairs. Their room was at the very end of the corridor on the highest floor [being the second] and Romano wondered whether or not they were given separate beds. Spain took it upon himself to be the first to see it, and he swung the door open with zero grace whatsoever.
The first thing that both nations noticed was that there was only one bed; a King Superior, to be exact. The baby blue bedspread matched the curtains that gave way for a full view of the vast Cape Cod bay, and one thought immediately popped into Spain's mind: honeymoon. Yes, it appeared to be like the perfect type of guest room for two newlyweds, or perhaps a couple. This notion didn't escape his Italian partners notice either, and the man's eyes darted around the room as Romano awkwardly explored a little before placing his bag onto one of the chairs. Silenced engulfed the enclosure as neither of them attempted to make conversation, mainly focusing on unpacking their toiletries and other necessities.
"S-So, this is a nice room, huh?" Spain asked, although it sounded more like he was mumbling to himself. Romano just nodded and picked up the envelope he received at the front desk.
"Yeah, it's nice. Anyways, I got this from the woman at the counter, and she said it was from that burger bastard. I guess it's our first clue or something, so I'm going to open it now and get the shit done and over with," he announced, and then tore the envelope apart before Spain could voice his thoughts [although he would have just agreed with Romano anyhow].
The script of the letter wasn't typed and the penmanship of the person 'sucked balls', as the Italian put it. True, it did appeared scribble-like and illegible on some lines, but the Spaniard gently took the letter from Romano's grasp and assured him that he could read the fine print with little difficulty. His Italian roommate just huffed stubbornly and allowed the other to read, wanting to get on with it. Spain cleared his throat and began:
"'Hi there guys, America here! I bet you dudes are lovin' the room right now, with its epic scenery and whatnot. Just so you know, the walls are really thick *wink wink* [the Spaniard didn't understand that part and wished to ask, but Romano just turned red and pressed him to read further]. Anyways, I've written down a riddle that's probably as old as time or somethin' like that, but Artie said—and I quote—'give the stupid Spaniard easy riddles because he doesn't have the brain capacity to solve average ones' and blah blah blah I forgot the rest. So yeah, here you go! Oh, and FYI the answer to the riddle thingy-me- jig is like a hint on where to go from there. AND just 'cuz I think you bros are pretty cool, I'll give you ANOTHER hint: the location you're supposed to go to is very close. Like, very very very VERY very close kinda .'"
Romano rolled his eyes and walked closer to the Spaniard, trying to make out the words written on a small piece of paper attacked to America's letter. It was fairly tiny and the only way to read it properly from his point of view was to press closer to Spain. The Iberian country's heat rate raced as he felt Romano's body warmth against his own, and he was very tempted to act upon his desires. But he knew better, and fought against all the corrupting thoughts that threatened his sanity. Not noticing a thing, the Italian next to him took the liberty of reading their riddle out loud:
"'One day, a man is in his house but he cannot sleep. Irritated and drowsy, he turns off the light in his home and finally achieves rest. The next morning, he wakes up and goes out to get the paper. When he reads the front page it says 'Thousand of people die overnight' and he knows it was his fault. Why ?'"
After a lengthy amount of silence, Spain's arm shot up. His face appeared to be concentrated yet confused, but Romano presumed that the man may have experienced an epiphany of sorts. Either that or he just really needed to go to the restroom.
"What is it, bastard?" the Italian asked with a patient tone, wondering whether or not he would dread the answer.
"Do you think the people died because he had turned off the earth's power source?" he speculated, surprising Romano with the fact that he was actually thinking for a change. After a bit of reflection, the younger nation shook his head with furrowed eyebrows.
"Although I think you're close, that's not exactly it. But..," he stared off into distance, and then met Spain's bright green gaze with uncertain eyes, "I think I already know the answer. The thing is… that would make this first part of the scavenger hunt far too easy if I were to be correct." He thought about it for another considerable amount of time before giving up and resting on one of the balcony chairs facing the bay. Spain followed suit, taking a seat on the reclining chair parallel to Romano's.
"He lives in a lighthouse," the smaller personification finally said after several more minutes of silence, "as the station's light operator. I mean, not only is this riddle well known—like the burger bastard said it was—but it actually makes sense when we consider what kind of area we're in."
"What do you mean by that?" the Spaniard interrupted. Romano sent him a harsh glare, but he knew that Spain was better off being well informed so he complied with being the one to do the educating.
"This place has a serious maritime history, not to mention it was one of the first places English colonists settled in when they first visited North America. If you had noticed, there are lighthouses everywhere mainly because there is a great need for them and because they hold historical value now," the Southern Italian explained, watching as Spain's facial expression grew less tense and more relaxed.
"So what you're saying is that we should go to a lighthouse to find our item?" he asked as the man finally started to grasp the concept.
"Exactly. The only problem is; which one?" Pulling out his map of Massachusetts, Romano used a dark purple pen to mark the spots of each lighthouse that was run by the military, and he used green for those that were not. After both men inspected the paper, a random idea appeared in Spain's mind.
"Why don't we just visit the closest one for now?" he suggested, using a pencil to circle a spot that read 'Highland Lighthouse'. "America even gave us a hint in the letter; he said that it was very close. So if it is a lighthouse we should be looking for, this one seems like the best choice for now." The Southern Italian thought it over carefully, though he didn't need to think long because he believed that it was a reasonable statement. Nodding in agreement, the shorter man stood up, grabbed his jacket and swiped the keys from their bedside table.
"Okay then, sounds like a plan. Since it's barely sunset at the moment and the place is about ten minutes away by car, we're better off leaving right now," he reasoned, pulling his whining Spanish partner out of their hotel room and into the windy September air. Knowing what signs to follow, Romano demanded that he would be the one driving. The tired and a lazy eyed Spaniard [due to not having a siesta the entire day] agreed without protest and leaned his head against the Jeep's door frame as Romano pulled out of the car park.
Highland Light was one of the tallest and oldest lighthouses in Cape Cod, and it's elegant and well kept appearance did not go unnoticed by either of the men. As Romano drove the Jeep down the winding dirt road that led to their destination, he spotted two figures calmly sitting on the front steps of the keeper's building that was connected to the generator shed. Parking their vehicle in front of a picket fence, Romano and Spain hopped out of their seats and walked towards the two people. They seemed to have spotted the nations and began walking towards them, one with a steady pace and the other frantically running.
"HEEEYYY GUUYYSS!" The Southern Italian immediately recognized the voice and wished that he could turn the other way, but then a sudden thought occurred to him: Why are Denmark and Norway here? All four men met in front of the lighthouse and greeted each other with casual tones [well, Romano and Norway tried to, but they mostly spent their time glaring at the bashful men next to them].
"So anyways, what are you guys doing here?" Spain asked while taking in the gorgeous surroundings that beleaguered him. Norway pulled a letter from out of his coat pocket and handed it to Romano, of whom graciously accepted it with a thankful grunt.
"England sent us over here to give that to you. Its proof that you've completed your first trial and can continue to the next," the Norwegian nation deadpanned, never losing the stoic mask that covered his handsome features. Denmark laughed loudly and pat his lover on the back hard, making said man's eyes twitch with anger.
"No need to be so formal, Norge! After all, we're all friends here! Say, America lent us the keeper's lounge for the night; do 'ya two want to join us for dinner?" the Dane asked, his blinding smile lighting up his equally bright blue eyes. Normally, Romano would have declined and left before you could say 'tomato', but the Italian was hungry by then and couldn't bear to go much longer without eating [even if it meant Nordic food was on the menu]. He was about to accept when Spain spoke before the younger man could utter a word.
"Thanks for the kind offer, really, but Lovi and I have plans for tonight," the Spaniard politely stated, earning a knowing look from his Danish friend and a boisterous wink as well. Norway's eyebrows raised and he gave Romano a slightly questioning impression, in which the Italian just blushed furiously and couldn't find his voice to speak with.
"Ahhh, well then I wouldn't want to get in the way of your plans, would I? Anyways, Norge and I are going to head back inside since it's getting close to dark. Hope you two enjoy your scavenger hunt thing!" Denmark expressed care freely, and then he skipped along to catch up with his annoyed lover. Spain envied the man deeply, although he could see himself doing the same thing with Romano, as he ran over to the Jeep to get into his seat before the little Italian left him stranded.
When they arrived at their guest room both men agreed that they were hungry, but Romano stated that he wanted to take a shower first, so Spain arranged for them to meet at the ocean side fire pit area. After the Southern Italian got dressed and prepped up a bit [for ten minutes, to be exact] he took off his shoes and stepped onto the cool white sand of the beach. Because it was still slightly chilly, Romano decided to just roll up his dress slacks to his knees and keep his button up dress shirt on beneath a thin hoodie. The nation pondered back on what Spain had said about having 'plans' tonight, and didn't recall making such a promise to the Spaniard, so perhaps it was… a surprise. Or at least the Italian hoped it was.
"Over here, Lovi~!" a voice called out, and Romano's heart skipped a beat. He would never admit it, but no matter what annoying nickname Spain gave him, it still meant something wonderful to the Italian. Trudging through the sand and towards the fire where the Spanish personification sat, he noticed that there were fresh assortments of seafood and complimentary wine placed on a small table in between two reclining chairs. Romano quickly took a seat and turned to examine Spain's profile glowing by the campfire he had set up. The Spaniard's bright green eyes appeared as energetic and mesmerizing as ever when they were lit by the flames and moonlight. He smiled widely when he noticed the curious look on Romano's lovely face.
"So do you like it? I ordered all this from a nearby place called Victor's, I think, and they gave us free wine too!" Spain celebrated, pouring the liquor in their glasses. The Italian blinked rapidly as he tried to think of what to say in response, and yet he was speechless. It was too much for him and he tried to handle all his emotions that threatened to burst out. While scooting himself closer to the table, Spain took notice of his love's torn expression and voiced his concern.
"Lovino? Are you alright? I-It wasn't too much, was it? Because… I-I mean I didn't kno-" he stopped rambling when he felt the younger nation's palm resting on top of his own. The Spaniard looked up to meet watery gold flecked green eyes that shone with heartfelt emotions as they enveloped his entire being.
"I-I… It's been a long time since someone has prepared a s-s-surprise like this for me, and it's just a little overwhelming," the smaller personification stated, making sure that his voice refrained from cracking else he be seen as a weakling. But then he made a halfhearted smile and blushed a tad. "B-But in a good kind of way, bastard." Spain watched Romano for awhile as the younger man struggled to crack open his lobster, and then laughed to himself. He is so awkward and cute.
After finishing up their dinner and simply staring at the cloudless night sky, a harsh gust of wind suddenly blew in their direction, carrying the fire with it. Spain was the first to notice the direction in which the flames were going towards, and he quickly pulled Romano out of his chair, sending both men tumbling in the sand. The Italian's head rested on his saviour's shoulder as the two tried to catch their breaths. Brushing the grains from his clothes, Spain stood up and supported Romano as he carried the other to his feet. The fire that had once been blazing and warm had been extinguished by the winds, and the Spaniard involuntarily shivered as he remembered that the air was quite cool, if not a bit chilly.
Instantly, Romano cuddled closer to an initially shocked Spain as he sneezed and buried his head in the taller man's chest.
"I f-fucking h-hate c-cold w-weather," he mumbled, his body shaking more and more with each passing second. Hearing this hurt the Spaniard's heart, and he pulled his arm around Romano so that both were hugging each other. Despite his words, the Italian's skin felt hot to the touch, so his body warmed Spain up efficiently.
"Si, Lovi, I don't like it either. Let's try and move a little so that we don't freeze to death from staying still," he said softly into the other's ear, earning a vigorous nod in return. Slowly but surely, the two personifications walked towards the water with careful steps, one arm tightly around the other. Romano was becoming increasingly embarrassed by the way Spain's calloused yet gentle hands glided up and down his body with ease, for it made him feel flustered and dizzy beyond belief. The Spanish man mistook his inability to walk as having been caused by the cold, and his grip around the Italian's torso tightened, pulling them even closer than before.
They stopped at a lamppost that was nearest to the inn and laid back on to the sand, their arms still linked just as firm as they had been while walking. Simultaneously, both men turned to look at the other and their gazes locked. Romano's face was beet red and his eyes were half lidded, and Spain's demeanor was like a mirror image of his. Without even noticing that they began to sit up, the two men were hypnotized by their love's presence and their hands unconsciously tightened around one another. Merely a few centimeters separated their noses and neither acknowledged the short distant with discomfort.
"Antonio, what are we?" the Italian questioned with shyness written plain as day on the man's crimson features. Spain took notice of his 'intimate' name being used, but chose to stay occupied on more important matters and answered honestly with honey glazing the tone of his voice.
"Whatever you want us to be, Lovino." The Italian didn't seem satisfied with that answer and inquired once more.
"And what if you don't want what I want?" Spain brought his hands to the sides of Romano's face and rested their foreheads against each other.
"Well, what is it that you want?" Electricity and sparks practically made up the ambiance around both men as neither knew what to expect next, but looked forward to it all the same.
"It's nothing that I can explain with words," Romano whispered, and Spain lifted his face so the tips of their noses were touching.
"Then show me."
The Southern Italian didn't need another push—nor did he have a doubt in his mind that those words were anything less than an invitation— so Romano closed his eyes and moved forward, pressing their lips together. The kiss was short, sweet and fleeting, but it meant so much more to them than anyone else would ever understand. Years that turned to decades and decades that turned to centuries, both had waited long enough for their feelings to reach one another in such harmony that it amazed the two even then.
After choosing to open his eyes once more, Romano met his love's green orbs at such a close range, and yet he didn't mind. Yes, it was embarrassing, and yes, he felt the urge to flee out of nervousness, but the yearning to hear Spain's reassuring words was what made the Italian stay still.
"Te quiero más de lo que nunca te podrás imaginar, Lovino."
"Ti amo più di qualsiasi cosa al mondo, Antonio."
Holy mothereffingyesfinally! You guys don't know how long I've wanted to type this kiss, and it took all my self restraint to stop myself from ending this shit with smut. BUUUUTTT that's for later, dearies ;) Yeah, so Spain says 'I love you more than you'll ever know' or something in Spanish ['kay my Spanish sucks sorry] and Romano says 'I love you more than anything in the world'... or something. Yup.
The nice diner waitress Miss Susan is based loosely on my aunt that lives in Maryland [same name and hair and description in general]. When I first visited the US I was shocked to find that complete strangers would treat me so kindly [despite my German accented English that was hardly understandable] so I was kind of scared at first, but you get used to it after awhile :) Yeah despite the mean stereotypes about Americans most of them are actually really nice and call you stuff like 'sweetie pie' and 'sugar' even though they don't know you and it's really... GAH xD That just goes to show that just because a certain group of individuals in one country are stupid, that doesn't make ALL of them exactly like that. But anyways, I'm rambling again.
All places and streets and sites and inns and whatnot throughout this fic are real, by the way, and it took LOTS OF research in order to get every last detail accurate.
'Kay then, I hope you awesome/epic/thoughtful readers enjoyed this chapter and look forward to the next ^w^