Romano grabbed a tomato and bit into it. It was delicious. His eyes filled with tears as chewing became a struggle and then swallowing an impossibility. He sat there, mouth full of chewed tomato, as his body began to shake and tears burnt wet trails down his cheeks. Spain finally took notice when he sniffed loudly and tried to wipe his nose with his arm.
“Romano?” he asked, sounding startled.
Romano gave a sob and ended up choking. Spain was out of his seat in an instant and holding a napkin in front of Romano’s mouth so he could spit the disgusting mess of tomato out. He finally set the rest of the tomato down and folded his arms on the table, letting his head fall into them and crying.
“Romano? Romano, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
There were lots of reasons. Romano settled on, “I-I like tomatoes!”
Spain didn’t seem to know what to say in response to that. “You… you’re crying because you like tomatoes?”
Romano continued to sob miserably into his arms. “I don’t kn-know i-if… if… if—“ He took in a shuddering breath before continuing, “—if my next c-caretaker w-w-will have theeemm.”
Spain tried to make sense of that, but couldn’t. “Your next caretaker? What are you talking about?”
Romano lifted his flushed face to meet Spain’s confused gaze. “W-when you get r-rid of me.”
The thought turned Spain’s stomach. “Romano, I’m not getting rid of you,” he said. He reached over to lift Romano out of his chair and onto his lap. “Why would you think that?”
Romano blinked, some more tears escaping and slipping down his cheeks before he took on his own look of confusion. “You…” he tried to get his thoughts in order. Somehow he already felt calmer and safer in Spain’s arms. “Everybody always gets rid of me,” he admitted softly. He grabbed two handfuls of Spain’s shirt and buried his face in his chest. He didn’t want to leave.
Spain was quiet for a long time, and then Romano felt a hand gently weave its way through his hair. “That’s not true,” he murmured.
Romano’s lip trembled. “Y-yes it is,” he whimpered. “Veneziano’s the good one, and I’m th-the bad one.”
“No you’re not,” Spain replied as he continued his gentle petting. “You… you have bad days. Everybody has bad days.”
“Every d-day’s a bad day.”
“Now how could every day be a bad day when…” Spain’s voice grew shaky. “W-when you make me so happy?” Romano felt Spain’s arms tighten around him, and then Spain was burying his head into his neck. “Please don’t cry, Romano. I love you, even if we do have fights, and no matter what you do, it will never be enough to make me get rid of you. I know that I get mad sometimes, but… but you’re everything to me. I couldn’t just leave you.”
Romano’s heart was swollen and heavy in his chest. He didn’t try to fight Spain off. He didn’t want to. He wanted to be held and loved. He cried into Spain’s chest and after gathering enough courage, asked, “P... promise?” He trembled with the fear of rejection. “Promise you won’t… won’t leave me?”
“I swear on my life, I will never leave you Romano,” Spain murmured.
And a weight Romano didn’t even know he carried around with him was lifted. All of his flaws didn’t matter, and it didn’t matter that he wasn’t as good as Veneziano. It didn’t matter that he had drawn on Spain’s wall and stomped on his books. None of that was going to make Spain get rid of him. Romano could be bad and still have a home and a person to love him.
Romano asked later what that was. Spain gave him a soft smile and called it ‘unconditional love’.
Untitled 2g/?
“Romano?” he asked, sounding startled.
Romano gave a sob and ended up choking. Spain was out of his seat in an instant and holding a napkin in front of Romano’s mouth so he could spit the disgusting mess of tomato out. He finally set the rest of the tomato down and folded his arms on the table, letting his head fall into them and crying.
“Romano? Romano, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
There were lots of reasons. Romano settled on, “I-I like tomatoes!”
Spain didn’t seem to know what to say in response to that. “You… you’re crying because you like tomatoes?”
Romano continued to sob miserably into his arms. “I don’t kn-know i-if… if… if—“ He took in a shuddering breath before continuing, “—if my next c-caretaker w-w-will have theeemm.”
Spain tried to make sense of that, but couldn’t. “Your next caretaker? What are you talking about?”
Romano lifted his flushed face to meet Spain’s confused gaze. “W-when you get r-rid of me.”
The thought turned Spain’s stomach. “Romano, I’m not getting rid of you,” he said. He reached over to lift Romano out of his chair and onto his lap. “Why would you think that?”
Romano blinked, some more tears escaping and slipping down his cheeks before he took on his own look of confusion. “You…” he tried to get his thoughts in order. Somehow he already felt calmer and safer in Spain’s arms. “Everybody always gets rid of me,” he admitted softly. He grabbed two handfuls of Spain’s shirt and buried his face in his chest. He didn’t want to leave.
Spain was quiet for a long time, and then Romano felt a hand gently weave its way through his hair. “That’s not true,” he murmured.
Romano’s lip trembled. “Y-yes it is,” he whimpered. “Veneziano’s the good one, and I’m th-the bad one.”
“No you’re not,” Spain replied as he continued his gentle petting. “You… you have bad days. Everybody has bad days.”
“Every d-day’s a bad day.”
“Now how could every day be a bad day when…” Spain’s voice grew shaky. “W-when you make me so happy?” Romano felt Spain’s arms tighten around him, and then Spain was burying his head into his neck. “Please don’t cry, Romano. I love you, even if we do have fights, and no matter what you do, it will never be enough to make me get rid of you. I know that I get mad sometimes, but… but you’re everything to me. I couldn’t just leave you.”
Romano’s heart was swollen and heavy in his chest. He didn’t try to fight Spain off. He didn’t want to. He wanted to be held and loved. He cried into Spain’s chest and after gathering enough courage, asked, “P... promise?” He trembled with the fear of rejection. “Promise you won’t… won’t leave me?”
“I swear on my life, I will never leave you Romano,” Spain murmured.
And a weight Romano didn’t even know he carried around with him was lifted. All of his flaws didn’t matter, and it didn’t matter that he wasn’t as good as Veneziano. It didn’t matter that he had drawn on Spain’s wall and stomped on his books. None of that was going to make Spain get rid of him. Romano could be bad and still have a home and a person to love him.
Romano asked later what that was. Spain gave him a soft smile and called it ‘unconditional love’.
*~*~*