Well this is long overdue, I apologize.
I blame my laziness, and the fact I spontaniously decided to write a high school fic, please check that out ;D
But yes, I'll try and get this updated faster next time, the next update will be my other fic which will be out in roughly a week or two, and then this'll be updated hopefully a week or two after that.
Hopefully.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, Himaruya Hidekaz does.
The door slammed open as Romano quickly stumbled inside, coming to a sudden stop in front of the bathroom basin. His hands were gripping to the sides of the bowl, the blood making a handprint on the white porcelain as he panted heavily, his chest heaving violently.
He couldn't stay here; he needed to get away from here and fast.
With his thoughts in a chaotic mess inside his head Romano didn't know what to do first, what he needed to do to cover his trail, hide the mess he made.
With shaking hands he turned on the faucet and started to desperately scrub at the blood crusting on his arms, trying to wash away the evidence of his moment of insanity. Thinking about those moments caused more tears to steadily flow from his eyes, and he just continued to furiously rub at himself all the while sobbing.
He turned his attention to his blood stained face as he glared at himself through the bathroom mirror. If he were to be perfectly honest he looked like a train wreck with a crusted handprint of blood on both cheeks, though half of it was now running down his cheeks again in a mixture of blood and tears. There were bruises all over his face, with a particularly bad one on his left eye which had not too long ago been stabbed, though his actual eye healed fairly quickly due to his status as a nation oddly enough the bruises seemed adamant to remain, almost like a cruel reminder of what monstrosities he experienced inside these walls.
Soon enough after all the scrubbing and dunking his head in a basin full of water his skin was seemingly clear of blood, though he still looked a mess with his puffed bruised eyes and his hair dripping wet with water.
'What do I do now? I still have to get rid of the bodies somehow, I need to get out of these clothes since they're all bloodstained and I need to figure out where the fuck I am…' Romano thought to himself as he paced back and forth in the small bathroom, anxiously running his hands through his hair.
He quickly stormed out of the bathroom he had originally been pacing in, looking up and down the hallway. There were lockers up against the wall down the hallway, with a few of them opened up to reveal cracked mirrors and old dusty hardhats down the hallway to his right. He walked briskly towards them, opening different locker doors to examine the contents. There were more hardhats, clip boards, a bottle of what seemed to be gasoline, empty toolboxes, lone hammers, a box of matches, overalls and a white t-shirt.
'This must be something like a factory or a car garage or something' Romano thought to himself, before he grabbed the shirt and overalls out of the locker and began to strip himself of his filthy blood stained clothing. He pulled the shirt on over his head, and even though the shirt seemed quite small in size it still hung off his body showing just how unhealthily skinny he was at the moment. After kicking off his shoes and pants he pulled on the black overalls opting to only wear it on the bottom half as he tied it around his waist. He stuck his original boots back on because as far as he could see there weren't any other form of footwear in this lone hallway and he really didn't have the time to be searching for some.
Grabbing hold of the lighter and gasoline he began to make his way back towards the small mountain of bodies but not before picking up his original clothing off the ground, as he couldn't afford to reveal that he was actually here through a stupid mistake as leaving your own clothing lying around.
He arrived back to the bodies, freezing up tensely as he caught sight of the gory mound of flesh. He turned his back on it quickly and took long deep breaths to collect himself; he could feel the tears returning to his eyes as he caught a glimpse of his own chaotic mistake. After a few more moments of controlled breathing he turned back around.
'I really want to fucking puke, actually scratch that I am going to fucking puke'
Romano looked down towards his bundle of stained clothing in his hand before throwing them on top of the bodies, then unscrewing the cap of the gasoline bottle and soaking the bodies in the flammable liquid. After he was done he held up a match before striking it against its box and throwing it on the pile, which quickly erupted into flames before him.
The sight fascinated him.
He didn't know why, because moments ago he had been close to upchucking at the sight of them but as soon as they were in flames it became entrancing.
To see his mistakes being erased in the flames brought a sick sense of glee to his heart, making him think to himself that maybe he would get away with this. He could go home back to Italy and eat pasta with Veneziano and harvest tomatoes with Spain and everything would go back to the way they were a few months ago.
'No. What if they find out what you did? They'll never look at you the same again.'
'But they wouldn't just abandon me they lov-'
'Do they? Do you really think they love you? If they did feel any love towards you then why have you been here for this long? Why haven't they come to rescue you?'
'Maybe they couldn't find me, maybe they're still looking no-'
'WRONG. They were never looking for you. Why would they want to look for you? After all, you're only little South Italy, a no good brat that couldn't do the simplest of tasks, who unlike his brother cannot create only destroy, who always has and always will live in the shadow of his little brother.'
Romano's breath hitched suddenly, though as bizarre as that situation was the voice in his head spoke the truth. These were things that Romano often found himself in denial of but deep down was aware that they were the truth.
'T-That's true. I'm nothing like Veneziano, I don't cook, I don't clean, and I only cause trouble for people, especially Spain. I mean, he even once tried to trade me for Veneziano…'
'I always speak the truth. They don't want you back; they never wanted you there in the first place, your better off by yourself.'
Romano fisted his hands tightly at his sides as he struggled to hold back the river of tears that were threatening to flow, he started to try and slow down his breathing as he stared at the burning bodies in the flames. Taking one last deep breath finally pushed the tears back and he turned to face the opposite direction.
He looked down towards the coffee table and spotted a lone switchblade lying on the polished wood; he slowly reached down towards it and gently picked up the blade, holding it close to his face as if to examine it closely. He then closed the blade before slipping it into the pocket of his stolen overalls.
Taking large quick strides he made his way out of the room and back into the hallway, walking down the other end of the hallway before spotting an open door that lead to the outside. Quickening his pace to a jog he made his way to the doorway before slowing down upon arriving there and cautiously peaking out the door.
A forest.
Wherever he was being held was in the middle of the forest. There was a single dirt road that had the telltale signs of being driven on by a vehicle of sorts. Romano was about to start following that trail before something dawned on him.
'If some more of those bastards come and see me walking by this road they'll fucking take me back, or worse they'll find out what I did and kill me…'
He gritted his teeth; he'd have to wing it. He'd need to go in any random direction and hope for the best. He looked to the sky, which was rather dim, with an orange glow coming from the distance above the trees, he could assume it was very early morning.
So if he started this trek now then hopefully he'd arrive to some sort of civilization before nightfall.
Calming his now shaking limbs he began to walk into the shrubbery, determined to get away from the building that brought him his own personal hell.
Voices in your head isn't usually a good sign of ones mental health.
Let me just add that I'm sorry that there isn't much excitement this chapter, the excitement will come soon!
So will the Spamano.
Not romantic yet, more in the Psycho!Lovi meets insanewithworry!Spain way.