The sound of random bits of sentences grew annoying as I flipped through the channels on the television. I glared at the obnoxious box. Who the hell came up with idea to invent that piece of shit? There's never even anything good on anyways. Finally fed up with the worthless technology I turned it off and tossed the remote lazily onto the couch.

"Romano are you hungry?" Spain asked. I looked up to see him standing in the doorway with a tomato in his hand. "No." I mumbled. But my stomach betrayed me and growled loudly. The Spaniard laughed. "It seems as though your stomach thinks otherwise my tomate." He said. Angrily I glared at him. Why was he always so damn happy? I have nothing to be happy about. "I don't want any of your stupid food you bastardo!" I yelled. Spain sat down next to me on the couch and casually put an arm around me. I moved his arm and scooted a few inches away from him.

"My little tomate is something bothering you?" He asked. I turned my head away and tried to ignore him. A hand rested on my shoulder. "I'm not going to leave you alone until you tell me what's wrong." He said. I cursed under my breath and moved away again. "I saw Veneziano yesterday. I caught him making out with that potato-bastard. Are you happy now?" I said. Spain picked me up and placed me on his lap. He rested his chin on my shoulder and wrapped his arms loosely around my waist. "Tell me what's wrong Roma. I don't like seeing you upset." He said. I crossed my arms over my chest and pouted. "Deal with it you bastard." I mumbled.

Spain bounced me on his lap like I was a child again. I pinched his leg but he continued to bounce me. "Why do you care at all?" I asked. I looked over my shoulder and into his charming green eyes. Everything about him was charming, and that's one of the things that I both loved and hated about him. "I care because I love you Romano, and I want you to be happy." Spain said. I felt his lips press against my cheek. Gently I pushed his face away from me. "I wish you didn't care so much. You're too nice and I just can't stand it." I said. A single tear betrayed my emotions and slid down my cheek, putting a crack in my tough exterior. Spain reached up and brushed the tear away with his thumb.

For a while neither of us said anything. I looked at everything in the room except him and he looked at nothing other than me. How could he even stand to be near me? The only reason I could come up with was that just like everyone else he wanted Grandpa Rome's inheritance. I as Southern Italy was just meant to be the least favorite Italy.

"Romano look at me." He said. But like the stubborn ass that I am I refused to look at any part of him. "Look at me… please." He said. Spain drummed his fingers against my side just in case I was no longer paying attention to him. I turned my just slightly and looked at his collarbone. "Why do you want Grandpa's inheritance?" I asked. Spain brought his hand up to my chin. "Roma, look at my face." He said. With a slight touch he lifted my head to make me look at him. I closed my eyes, refusing to look at his face.

"Stop it. You're too nice. You've got to be up to something."

"Listen to what I'm saying Romano. I don't care about the Roman Empire's inheritance. I only care about seeing you happy… no forget that, I want to be the one to make you happy."

Continuing to do as I had done before I kept my eyes closed. This time I didn't answer him. But unlike what I had expected he didn't speak to me with words. He placed his lips on mine and kissed me deeply. I was so shocked that my eyes flew open and I merely stared at him as he took charge. Without even opening his eyes he turned my body and moved my legs so that I was straddling him. When I still didn't respond he pulled away and furrowed his brow.

"Romano, I love you. Why won't you believe that?" Spain asked.

My face turned red as my hard exterior completely melted away.

"No one has ever loved me." I whispered.

Spain cupped my face with his hands and leaned forward so that his forehead was against mine. "That's not true, because you have me." He said. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. "How do I know you're not lying?" I asked. I felt his fingers moving, gently stroking my cheek as if I were a precious statue. "You don't know, you just have to trust me. Do you trust me?" He said. I didn't answer him. Did I trust him? For most of my life I trusted him to take care of me. I trusted him to protect me. I trusted him as a friend. But did I trust him with my heart?

"Do you trust me?" He repeated.

"Yes…" I said hesitantly.

"You're answer is suspicious." Spain said.

"Just know that if you hurt me I'll kill you." I said.

He chuckled and pulled me into a tight hug. "I won't hurt you my tomate." He said. Spain moved my legs so that I was no longer straddling him. "You can give me a kiss or not and I'll know how you feel. But I can take it slow. I'll do anything for you." He said. Playfully I slapped his arm. "I hate you so much." I said. But there was no hateful emotion in my voice to support my words. So to show him how I really felt I kissed him.