So, since my fanfic mojo follows Harley's around (I think my muse has a stalker-crush on her muse, but it'll never work out because my muse is a whore.) I couldn't help but want to write another fanfic! But I wasn't sure about what. So I looked at a list of popular Hetalia couples and absolutely fell in love with Spain and Southern Italy :) So here they are!

Romano glared a gaze worthy of a thousand daggers at the tickets in his palm. His cheeks burned red and his heart pounded furiously in his chest.

"How the hell am I supposed to give this to him?" He murmured to himself, pacing about the beach.

Sunlight hit his face as he walked; annoying him and reminding him of the feeling he felt whenever Spain was near. He stopped in his tracks and kicked a pile of sand, clenching his fist. The tickets inside crumpled a weak plea against his angry palm.

"This is so embarrassing!" He roared, looking up at the beautiful blue sky above.

It was the perfect day to go out somewhere. And the perfect opportunity had arisen when Veneziano came to his door and handed him the two tickets. He was going with that dumbass Germany to the World's Fair. They even had booths. Romano was sure he'd heard Spain talk about setting up a booth at the Fair, too. But he hadn't really been listening. He'd been staring too hard at Spain's eyes, trying to figure out how to express his feelings for the older man.

"Gah! This is killing me!" Romano kicked up several flurries of sand and flailed his arms exasperatedly.

A nearby cough made him halt in mid-flail. Romano looked up. Standing a few feet away with his hand over his mouth, coughing as the flurries of sand that Romano had kicked up fluttered away in the wind, was Spain.

"GYAHHHHH!" Romano shrieked. "Y-you snuck up on me!"

Between coughs, Spain laughed.

"Wha-," Spain choked, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." Romano stiffened, feeling the coarse paper tickets in his fist. He tightened his grip until his knuckles turned white.

"Well, okay." Spain smiled, wiping sand and cough-induced tears from his eyes.

"But you know, your face looks a lot like a tomato when you're angry."
A dark blush swept across Romano's face. His eyebrow twitched, nerves wracked.

"What do you even mean by that!" He retorted clumsily.

"I mean that your face gets all round and red." Spain explained, Romano's exasperation lost on his smile. "It's kind of cute."

Romano looked away then, unable to contain the fire that swept across his cheeks. He clenched his fists so hard that the tickets crinkled noisily in his palms. He swore to himself when the older man blinked and questioned the sound.

"What was that?" Spain asked, looking at Romano's hand. "What do you have?"

"N-nothing, you stupid bastard!" Romano spluttered, turning to walk away. "Stay out of my business. You're such a nag. I don't need you!" He waved a hand over his shoulder airily and took a few steps away from Spain.

Please come after me. Like you always do. Just do it. Go through the embarrassing crap. Please. PLEASE! Romano's thoughts sprang to life, shrieking to the beat of his heart. Please tell me I need you.

Spain was silent. He didn't move. Romano took more steps away from him. His world crumbled with each fumbling step. His feigned confidence tore halfway and he broke into a run, leaving Spain behind on the bright, sandy beach.

PLEASE CHASE ME! PLEASE! I NEED YOU! MORE THAN YOU KNOW!

Spain stood and watched. A tear that Romano would never see slid from his eye, down his cheek, and unto the sand below. The tears that followed would never be seen nor heard by Romano. The laughter was gone as quickly as it had come, and for reasons Spain knew not. He only knew that Romano's words stung like spiked poison in his stomach.

Romano regretted running away, but his legs were hell-bent on escape. He had run what seemed miles when he finally found the strength to stop.

"Why do I say these things?" His own tears escaped their hastily-constructed shell.

Romano dropped to his knees. He knelt by the edge of a mountain, in a grove lined with beautiful trees and flowers. Grass swayed in the wind beside him. What would normally have been a peaceful place was misconstrued in his mind now. Only horror—the horror of his own words, of words previous to today's, and of Spain's lack of response—encompassed him, aching with every pound of his heart.

Romano forced himself to breathe, to compose himself. He looked down at his hand and opened his palm. Wrinkled beyond recognition and drenched in sweat, the two tickets Veneziano had given Romano were no longer usable. Romano stuck them in his pocket nonetheless, hoping that, when he got back to Spain, he would be courageous enough to ask the older man to go with him.

So, usually when I write fanfics, I do it pretty much in one sitting. But not even halfway through this, I left to see a play (SWEENEY TODD!) and came back…it's just beyond midnight right now, I'm wiped out, and this fanfic is getting REALLY angsty!

I'm lovin it! XD More chapters to come. Please review~