Austria grunted, defeated. He could feel his face grow hot just thinking that he was so easy for even someone as oblivious as the other man to read. Spain just shifted in his seat, finally sitting up straighter.
“If you know how you feel about her, you should just tell her,” he said. “It’s obvious that she feels the same for you.”
“T-there’s nothing to say,” the Austrain told him, looking quite flustered.
“What do you have to lose?” Spain asked, his voice dropping low as he looked down at his injured arm. “Love’s not easy, but - it’s something worth fighting for. It would be so much easier for you two…”
“Don’t compare your crumbling relationship to my nonexistent one,” Austria snapped, and felt a stinging shred of guilt as Spain looked at him like a kicked puppy.
“I’m so miserable without him,” Spain murmured. “I’d give anything to have him back. That’s why I can’t give up. And you shouldn’t either! Wouldn’t you regret it if you didn’t even try?”
Austria frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, but before he could reply, there was a servant at the door calling for his attention.
“Herr Österreich, Herr Frankreich is here to see you,” the servant announced.
Austria raised an eyebrow, and Spain managed a small smile.
“Very well. Show him in.”
France entered the room a moment later, a troubled look on his face. Austria rose to greet him, and Spain soon followed, rising slowly and clutching his arm to steady it as he stood behind his host, half hidden from France’s view.
“This is a surprise,” Austria commented. “Two guests on the same day, within the same hour. Were you looking for him?”
He stepped back to give France a better view of Spain.
“No,” the Frenchman replied. “Actually, I came here to ask- Mon Dieu! Espagne! What happened to your arm?!”
“Oh, um,” the Spaniard started, clearing his throat, “bullfight.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Truth Be Told 28/?
(Anonymous) 2010-10-13 11:18 am (UTC)(link)Austria grunted, defeated. He could feel his face grow hot just thinking that he was so easy for even someone as oblivious as the other man to read. Spain just shifted in his seat, finally sitting up straighter.
“If you know how you feel about her, you should just tell her,” he said. “It’s obvious that she feels the same for you.”
“T-there’s nothing to say,” the Austrain told him, looking quite flustered.
“What do you have to lose?” Spain asked, his voice dropping low as he looked down at his injured arm. “Love’s not easy, but - it’s something worth fighting for. It would be so much easier for you two…”
“Don’t compare your crumbling relationship to my nonexistent one,” Austria snapped, and felt a stinging shred of guilt as Spain looked at him like a kicked puppy.
“I’m so miserable without him,” Spain murmured. “I’d give anything to have him back. That’s why I can’t give up. And you shouldn’t either! Wouldn’t you regret it if you didn’t even try?”
Austria frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, but before he could reply, there was a servant at the door calling for his attention.
“Herr Österreich, Herr Frankreich is here to see you,” the servant announced.
Austria raised an eyebrow, and Spain managed a small smile.
“Very well. Show him in.”
France entered the room a moment later, a troubled look on his face. Austria rose to greet him, and Spain soon followed, rising slowly and clutching his arm to steady it as he stood behind his host, half hidden from France’s view.
“This is a surprise,” Austria commented. “Two guests on the same day, within the same hour. Were you looking for him?”
He stepped back to give France a better view of Spain.
“No,” the Frenchman replied. “Actually, I came here to ask- Mon Dieu! Espagne! What happened to your arm?!”
“Oh, um,” the Spaniard started, clearing his throat, “bullfight.”