Hi everybody! I was gone on a trip to Utah and while it was fun, I had no time to write so please forgive me for being so late. *bows* This request is from Starfire67!

Song: Candle On The Water

Romano didn't know it when he woke up one particular morning, but he was going to learn two important things that day. The first was that a stack of paperwork makes a comfortable pillow if one is tired enough, the second is that love is unexpected, unplanned, unforgettable... and can sometimes be confused with loathing.

"Fratello...fratello...FRATELLO WAKE UP!"

Romano woke with snort and jerked his head up. Blinking rapidly he could see Feliciana hovering above him. A few seconds later he could make out their huge office in the World Conference Center in Rome. A world conference was coming up and since the Italy twins were hosting it this year they had more work to do than ever. He looked down at the stack of paperwork he'd been sleeping on and sighed. He wiped off a bit of drool on the first sheet and glanced at Feliciana's desk. It looked like she hadn't done anything. Typical, just typical. "Hey, you know I'm not doing your work right?" he mumbled.

Feliciana nodded and her curls bobbed up and down a good five seconds after she stopped. "I know! Germany's coming over soon, maybe he'll help me!"

Of course he'll help you! that stupid potato eater would bend over backwards to do anything you asked for all his grumbling about how you should be more responsible! Romano shook his head in disgust but froze halfway through the motion as a thought struck him. He quickly hid the devious grin from his sister and pointed to a window. "Look over there! I see something shiny!"

Feliciana squealed in delight and ran to the window. While her back was turned Romano scooped up his remaining paperwork, tiptoed to her desk, and hid it underneath her stack. He made it back to his desk just as Feliciana turned around. "I didn't see anything!" she whined.

Romano shrugged and gave her an apologetic look. "Mi dispiace. Hey, I'm done with all of my work, I'm going home." Feliciana blinked in shock.

"You're leaving...even though you know Germany's coming to see me?!" Her voice was incredulous.

Romano sauntered over to the door, "Yeah, I think he can handle things here." This time he couldn't contain the smirk that forced it's way onto his face. "I hope Germany helps you with your paperwork." With that he practically skipped out of the room content with the knowledge that his work would get done. Feliciana thought over his meaningful sentence for a moment but quickly dismissed it and pulled out her phone to text Germany.

Romano grumbled a bit as he walked down the second flight of stairs. Italy's conference center wasn't as big as, say, America's but unlike America's it didn't have an elevator. It was aggravating to say the least. Especially since that meant admitting, mentally at least, that America was in some way better. The very thought twisted in his gut and made him more irritable than he naturally was. America, or Amelia F. Jones as she was known by her citizens, was one of the most annoying countries Romano had been unfortunate enough to meet. Loud, brash and overconfident, America was the definition of "dumb blonde". In fact, she was probably the reason that term had been coined. Everything about her annoyed Romano, from her obsession with superheroes to her cowboy boots. And she was always smiling. A dumb, overly happy smile.

So the last thing he expected to see was her crying.

At first he didn't know it was her that was crying. All he heard was a female voice sobbing in a long unused conference room as he walked by. At first he was tempted to walk by and leave the girl to deal with her grief by herself. He was tired and not in a very comforting mood. But then he remembered that perhaps one of the nations had gotten here early and was spending the night. As one of the hosts it was his job to make sure that everyone had a somewhat enjoyable experience in his country. It's probably Ukraine moaning over how she loses the buttons to her shirt every time she takes a deep breath, he thought bitterly as he opened the door a crack. It wasn't Ukraine however, whoever it was was sitting at the very edge of the long conference table, her forehead resting on the wood and her arms wrapped around it protectively. Romano hesitantly slid inside and winced as the door shut with a soft thud. The girl didn't seem to notice. She continued crying and Romano couldn't help but notice how broken she sounded. He walked around the table slowly trying to discern her identity. Her hair was too short to be Hungary's (unless she'd cut it, which Romano doubted) and it wasn't light enough to be Liechtenstein's. It was a dirty blonde and her bangs were held back by a silver pin in the shape of a star. Wait... there was only one country he knew of that wore a pin like that...

America finally noticed him when he was about a foot away from her. She tried to muffle her sobs and peeked at him from over her arms.

Romano looked back at her awkwardly, what are supposed to say to someone you find annoying when they're crying? "Uh...you okay?"

America sniffed and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her bomber jacket. She glared at him halfheartedly. "Does it look like I'm okay, genius?"

Romano immediately bristled but with Herculean effort he managed to refrain from cussing her out. "Fine, can I help you then?" he gritted out. America pouted and hid her head in her arms again.

"No! I don't want to be here!"

"Che, why? Because your country is so much better?" Romano said sarcastically.

With a bang America bolted to her feet, throwing the chair back in the process and slammed her hands on the table. "NO! I just happen to hate going to a meeting were everyone tells me I'm worthless!"

Worthless? America? "What in the world are you talking about?! You're always talking about how you're the hero!" Romano shot back.

America placed a hand on her hip and used the other to gesticulate wildly as she ranted. "Well, let's see. According to England I'm fat, France is always telling me I'm stupid, Russia loves to call me a capitalist pig when he gets the chance and China is always talking about how incompetent I am! So what am I supposed to think huh?! I'm obviously not good enough for them! I'm NEVER going to be good enough for them, I'M WORTHLESS!" More tears bubbled up in her baby blue eyes and she turned away abruptly.

Now Romano was completely floored. What was he supposed to do now?! Comfort her? How could he possibly do that? He opened and closed his mouth several times as he tried to thing of what to say. "W-well," he began, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "At least you get noticed!"

America looked at him sharply, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Now it was Romano's turn to rant. "I never get noticed or recognized! I'm half of Italy but most of the time other nations act as if I don't exist! They prefer my sister! She's pretty and sweet and a total pushover, so of course they like her better than someone like...me." He pointed to America. "And look at YOU. You're one of the most noticeable nations ever! I mean, you started out so small, but now you're one of the most powerful nations that ever existed. Do you know how jealous some nations are of you? How jealous I am of you?!" He snapped his mouth shut abruptly. Did he really just say that?! He could feel his cheeks heating up like they always did when he was upset or flustered.

"You really feel that way?" America whispered. Romano nodded jerkily. What could he say? She was like a candle on a dark and perilous ocean. A beacon that everyone could see for leagues on end. As for himself, heh, he was stranded at the bottom of that ocean. Forgotten, unwanted, unnoticed. America studied him for a while, a few stray tears lying forgotten on her cheeks and chin. She leaned in closer and let out a small giggle. "Wow, you really do look like a tomato!"

"Wha-MMPH!" Romano's protests were cut off by America placing her lips squarely on his own, effectively muffling his words. It took Romano five seconds into the kiss for him realize that she was kissing him... and he was kissing her back. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. America sighed and ruffled his hair, brushing his lone curl by accident. His face almost purple, Romano quickly broke off the kiss before anything... unprecedented happened. America looked just as shock by her own actions. Her face was scarlet and Romano noticed how kissable her lips were and- now is not the time you idiot!

America looked down at her cowboy boots for a while before glancing up at him shyly. "Thanks... for cheering me up I mean. I needed that," she confessed.

"S-sure!" Romano gasped. "And... and anyone who bothers you has to deal with me!" A delighted smile burst across America's features and Romano felt his heart jump erratically in his chest. She pulled Romano into a hug which Romano awkwardly returned. She isn't so bad I guess... he thought.

Not that he would ever admit it out loud of course.

It's getting easier to write Romerica. As a die hard Spamano fan, this is slightly disturbing. O_O Anywho, I'm really glad that I have time to write again, so far the beginning of my summer has been fairly busy. Also, this it the twentieth chapter! :D I feel like I should celebrate or something! *throws confetti into the air* XD

Please Review!