This is the second chapter. Yes, that is obvious. I don't know...

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or its characters.

Antonio blinked, his arms feeling sore as he moved them. They felt as if they were restricted when he tried to pull them apart and oh....they were tied. He tried to stand, but toppled over and realized that his legs were also restrained. He narrowed his eyes at the pulsating pain in his head.

"What happened?" he softly asked the darkness in front of him. Very little light was in the room he was in.

He leaned back against the wall, trying to remember what had happened right before this. He closed his eyes, letting out a small sigh. The injuries he had gotten didn't help much in remembering these things. Ah, but he recalled...almost everything now.

He remembered the shout of challenge that rang through the air and make him hurry out of his cabin, grabbing a sword just in case. Antonio went out and looked up into those emerald green eyes, a feeling of despair in his stomach from what he saw in those eyes. They were empty, but if he stared hard enough, he could see a hint of bloodlust, a need for people to submit. He remembered fighting back the urge to shudder from the growing fear he felt. The man he was looking at was and insane pirate. Antonio could just sense it from him.

"Oh, you're that git I met before," the man chuckled, smirking with confidence. Antonio found that smirk to be so frustrating.

"Yes, what do you want, señor?" Antonio questioned, wanting to get this over with already.

"I want you."

Antonio flinched at the possessive tone of that last word. He shuddered, glaring up at the other man and taking a step back.

"You will never have me," he said with a snarl.

Yet here he was, tied up and bleeding from many cuts. He must've been a pathetic sight. It was an obvious mistake to go against a ship full of pirates alone, but he was willing to be taken if the others were okay.

Opening his eyes, he glanced around the room. Not for the first time, he wondered why the blonde-haired man even wanted him.

The door opened, letting in some light and Antonio looked up to see his captor. The man looked down at him with a satisfied expression, as if he were looking at some beautiful trophy he had just won. Antonio hated that.

"I see you're awake now," the man murmured, walking into the room and leaving the door open.

Antonio nodded, staring off to the side, "Yes, señor. What do you want?"

The pirate walked to the side, his boots making loud crunching noises as he took his steps, "Please, call me Arthur. I hate hearing your language." He pushed aside a curtain from a window, letting in more light.

Antonio didn't bother to move as his head was still hurting him a lot, "Why? I think my language is fine."

He was slapped for saying that and said nothing more.

"Spanish weakling. It was so easy to overpower you. Now you're mine," Arthur growled, kneeling next to Antonio. The blond caught Antonio's gaze and startled him by brushing his hand against his cheek. The action could be called gentle if not for the fact that it led to Arthur's hand pulling roughly at a lock of Antonio's curly hair.

Antonio winced, leaning towards the direction his hair was being pulled so as to lessen the pain. "I'm not yours," he grunted, glaring at the other man.

Arthur glared back, obviously disliking this show of defiance. He pulled harder at the lock of hair, letting it go completely. Antonio could almost sigh in relief once he was let go.

The smirk was back on Arthur's face, "If you're not mine now, you will be. I guarantee it." Before Antonio could protest, Arthur's lips were against his, crushing their lips together in a forceful kiss. The brunette let out a muffled cry of surprise as the Englishman put a finger against his chin and forced his mouth open. The kiss was wet, rough and Antonio hated himself for leaning forward to keep his lips against Arthur's just a second longer as the other man pulled back.

"Enjoyed that?" Arthur asked, wearing a smirk on his face. Antonio took a moment to catch his breath, glaring up at Arthur the whole time.

"Por supuesto que no!" Antonio growled, struggling in his binds. He wanted to attack this man in front of him for this disgusting thing he had just done. Suddenly, Arthur's boot was digging into his chest, knocking all the air out of him. Antonio cried out, shutting his eyes and grinding his teeth, trying not to concentrate on the pain.

"I told you," Arthur's voice had deepened to a low and dangerous tone, "I don't want to hear your filthy language from your mouth."

'It's not a filthy language!', he wanted to shout out, but it was difficult enough just to focus on breathing correctly.

Arthur finally removed the boot and Antonio slowly relaxed, not wanting to move too suddenly. He decided to stay quiet as his secret defiance. If he wasn't allowed to speak the language of his country, then he wouldn't say anything at all. What a great plan.

The pirate sat down in front of Antonio, studying him with a sort of guarded curiosity. Antonio stared back, trying to see if he could guess anything else about this person from the smallest details.

"Say something," Arthur demanded, looking annoyed.

Antonio shook his head, smiling helplessly as if he couldn't help not talking. This obviously irritated Arthur to no end.

The pirate made a frustrated noise as he stood. He tossed something hard at Antonio and left without saying another word. Antonio awkwardly lifted the thing up with both of his hands, wrinkling his nose at the acrid smell of it.

"¿Qué es esto?" he asked, bringing it up so he could look at it properly.

It was a burnt loaf of bread.

I'm not very good at this sorry. Yeah, some of the Spanish is from an online translator. You can correct some of them if they don't really make sense. Plus, I'm horrible at writing romance.

No, updates will probably never be this quick ever again.