Here is my next chapter! I tried to make it have even more feels. SO, be prepared. I hope you enjoy.

Warning: Self-harm and thoughts of suicide

I do not own Hetalia

Days went by. They turned into weeks. Which turned into months. But Romano did not even notice the time going by. After living for so long time just stopped being important. And just to him, but to all the other nations as well.

The depression never seemed to leave the olive eyed nation. When he was not forced to act like his "usual" self he continued on through life in a dream like state. He just went through the motions while his mind stayed elsewhere. He could not be bothered with life anymore.

Nothing could get him to brighten up. But no one really tried. No one seemed to notice that he was depressed. But then again they rarely even noticed him to begin with. So, that should be expected. It would have been if someone cared though. If anyone gave him enough thought to even notice. If everyone did not seem to hate him. It would have been so nice.

His bother's constant visits and hugs never cheered Romano up. They only exhausted him. They actually would make him feel worse since it always seemed like Spain payed more attention to Italy then Romano.

Spain never seemed to cheer him up either. He always tried since Romano was always so grumpy. But he never succeeded. Not even when he told Romano how he felt. Those words of love went through one ear and out the other. Romano would not believe those words. Those lies. How could anyone feel that way about him? It was impossible. There was nothing about him to love. He was nothing. He was not happy and cheerful like Italy. He was not full of love or life. He was dead inside.

Each and every day Romano only felt a handful of emotions. Exhaustion, Sadness, and numbness. The sadness was the worst. It was just so painful. It hurt him so much he could not even stand it. The tears would never stop when the sadness decided to show up. It would just consume him until he finally cried himself to sleep. Only to wake up numb the very next day. Which of course felt so much better, since it felt like nothing.

But Romano had recently picked up a habit to get rid of the emotional pain he felt. Of course he could have just sucked it up. He had felt much worse pain in all his years of living. But he just could not stand it any longer.

He picked up the blade that he had hidden in his dresser. With a gentle smile on his face he went and sat on his bed. The tears of his misery cascading down his face. He rolled up his sleeve to reveal his arm, littered in scattered red lines. He touched them all gently. His skin felt so rough and ragged.

Taking a deep and calming breath he touched the blade to his arm. Most of the wounds were healed now. So, he had a lot more room to make more cuts. Pressing the blade down, he slowly dragged it across his skin. The thin, but deep cut began to bleed.

This brought a very pleased smile onto Romano's face. His eyes filled with a look that could only be called insane. He let out a giggle as he kept on cutting up his arms. Hacking off his flesh as his cuts began to get more jagged and rough as he began to cut himself quicker.

This was the only time he truly felt alive. He knew that it was wrong. But he just could not stop himself. It felt so good. He needed to do it. If he could not die . . . then he could at least suffer. He could feel pain. He could feel alive too.

Eventually the small nation passed out due to the blood lose. When he woke up days later he found that he was no longer in his room. In fact he was pretty sure he was not even in his own home. He wondered if he had died and had finally moved onto another life. But the obnoxious greeting he soon got told him otherwise.

"Oh! West! He has finally woken up! Bring in something to drink!" he heard an annoying Prussian yell. Romano groaned slightly. Finding that his throat did hurt. So, a drink would actually be nice.

He looked over to see the Prussian looking at him. He was surprised to see concern in his piercing red eyes. But he really should not have. They had been best friends for a very long time. Always wreaking havoc and making their little bother's lives miserable.

"Romano . . . what is going on?" he asked, unusually serious. The olive eyed nation tilted his head in confusion. He did not understand what the Prussian was talking about. He was sure that he was hiding the depression pretty well. Why bother others with his pathetic problems?

It was not until he saw what the other's eyes were fixed on did he understand. His sleeve was still rolled up from when he was hurting himself. His clothes still soaked in blood from cutting too much and too deep. In slight panic Romano stood up and immediately tried to flee the room. But was stopped by a strong firm grip.

"Please Romano. Tell me what is going on. I'm worried about you. . ." he pleaded with distress.

"I'm fine," he responded with a voice void of emotion. There was no point in sharing his problems. It would never change anything.

"Do not lie to me! There is clearly something wrong! You would not be hurting yourself if you were A-Okay."

Romano let out a sigh. "Prussia, there would be no point in telling you. It would not change anything. Life would continue as it has been for centuries and my feelings would stay the same."

The albino ran his hands through his hair as his little brother entered the room. He set the glass on the table and looked at the two older nations. He could sense all of the tension and distress. But he could not handle anything like that. So, he immediately left and called up Italy.

"There has to be something I can do for you. I cannot just sit by and watch as you destroy yourself. We may be immortal . . . but if you continue doing all of this . . . you are going to end up dying Romano! You know what happens to the nations when their personifications are injured."

Romano laughed softly. But it was more out of sadness than anything. "I can only hope that happens. That would finally be the end."

Prussia eyes went wide as he felt tears coming to his eyes. It had been a long time since anything had made him sad enough to cry. "Do not say things like that! You cannot die! There are people who would miss you! There are people who love you!"

Romano scoffed. "Love me? Everyone hates me. It is clear as day. I only make those around me miserable. Who the hell would love me?"

"Spain! Italy! . . . Me," he ended with a whisper. "I love you . . . I do not wish to see your destruction."

Romano felt tears come to his eyes as well. "Do not spew such lies to me. Everyone would be much happier if I died. Don't you dare disagree."

Before Prussia could get out a response Romano held left. Slamming the door on his way out. The Prussian nation could only stand in place as the tears fell down his face. Why couldn't he save the man that he loved?

As Romano walked down the road he cried. He knew that the feelings from the Prussian were probably true. But he could not bear to sadden the man more than he already had. If he crushed his love right then and there . . . then maybe he would not care by the time death found him. He knew he would die soon. And he really could not wait. He hoped his next life could be much better.

"It would be so nice to see no one hating me."

If you got this far thanks for reading! Please review!

Question: Would you like to see more Prumano in the story? It will still end up being Spamano mostly. But I thought it would be a nice touch. Yay or nay?