Soooo this is my first fanfiction, and I had this idea while I was on a road trip with a few friends in Europe. I thought, "Hey why not write a fanfiction involving this and that and such!" And so, I kept my word [even if it was to myself] and have started writing this story.

Ohoho let us just assume it's a work in progress that's bound to get better as time passes. ^w^

Okay, I'm boring myself. Onto the story~!

He had always wondered what colour Romano's eyes were. He had always pondered on how Romano's face could turn to unfathomable shades of red. And he had always dreamt of the day when he could see Romano—his little Roma—all grown up and manly.

The morning Romano left for Austria's house to live with his junior sibling was a sad one for Antonio, as he dreaded ever parting with his adorable henchman. He couldn't imagine normal days without the tiny, hot-headed Italian around, and had often inquired how he managed to live before ever inviting Romano into his life. So when he watched as his beloved 'younger brother' walk towards the doorway, he felt a lump in his throat. I shouldn't cry, he thought bitterly as he tightened his grip on the edge of his wrinkled shirt, Romano would be frightened… I think. I should be strong for him.

Physically the age of a fourteen year old, the top of Romano's head nearly reached the height of his caretaker's shoulder. Looking into the boys eyes, it shocked Antonio to see a forlorn expression on his face. He quickly looked away, frowning when the older man took his hand.

"Take care, alright, Romano?" he asked in Spanish. Hazel met green, and Antonio couldn't bear to tear his eyes away from the rare, soft expression the Italian was making.

Romano was many things: clumsy, aggressive, pessimistic, loud, rude, and more impatient than the average child. But past all those flaws was a passionate, kind-hearted, generous, intelligent, sympathetic, skillful, beautiful, innocent, and honest person that had made Antonio's insatiate desire to reach out to him and shatter the boy's rough exterior even more persistent.

It was moments like this when Romano truly looked like the hurt boy that was rejected by his grandfather and overshadowed by his younger brother. It was moments like this when he accepted the Spaniards hugs, never struggling or fighting back. And so Antonio did just that, pulling the boy into a tight embrace and resting his chin on Romano's head. He could hear a soft whimper coming from his chest, and squeezed his eyes shut. I will not cry. I'm not the one who is about to live with a stranger. My poor, poor Roma; of course he's scared.

After a few minutes of Antonio muttering assuring words to the person he was softly caressing in his arms, Romano pulled away. His eyes were glassy from the tears, and his face was a deep red. By the looks of it, he was both embarrassed and broken in the older man's eyes. Although he knew that the adolescent wouldn't like it, Antonio lifted his face up by the chin, and gently pecked his nose with the greatest of care. For some reason, though, he felt a foreign sensation heating the pit of his stomach the minute his lips touched Romano's skin. Antonio shrugged it off as mere anxiety and pulled away from his soon-to-be former charge's face.

"W-What was that, bastard?" Romano asked, flustered by the sudden kiss. Said kisser chuckled light-heartedly and patted the boy's head, avoiding the stray curl that would anger the Italian when he touched it.

"Well, Roma, you're just too cute~! And someone as adorable as you shouldn't cry! If I were to just stand here and watch, I would feel like I was committing a crime! And what a crime it would be..," he muttered without thinking, although the Spaniard grinned widely when he noticed Romano's signature glare. He would miss seeing that.

"Don't fucking touch me, you creep! You're not making it any better!" No matter how much venom was spat, though, his words betrayed his actions as he squeezed the older man's hand, making Antonio practically beam from happiness. With Romano, any small gesture of affection was one worth cherishing, for it didn't happen often.

"Romano, honey, you have no need to feel alone or scared; Italy will be there, won't he?" the Spaniard questioned, trying to comfort the boy as he silently shook. There was a glint of shock in Romano's eyes, and when he looked up to meet Antonio's, they widened even more so. Then his facial features changed to match his serious tone of voice.

"Spain, you tomato bastard, I'm not upset because… because I'm scared or anything, got that? That isn't the reason, so just get that out of your damn mind," he stated with an edgy resonance in his voice. Antonio could only nod in response, though he had to wonder what brought on this sudden change in mood.

"Why then, Roma? You have your brother, and I heard that Hungary is kind to young boys… but perhaps you should worry about that. And although you and Austria have had rough times together the first time you moved in with him, I'm sure he'll warm up to you… eventually. I mean, who couldn't like such a cutie?" He heard Romano scoff in response, and couldn't help but feel a ray of hope come in his direction.

"Or is it possible… that maybe you..," the Spanish nation trailed off in a low voice. Antonio couldn't bring himself to ask what was lingering on his mind, fearful that perhaps he would scare Romano off during what could have been their last encounter for a long time. However, the other seemed to want Antonio to finish, and raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"What? Don't you 'never mind' me, bastard! You know very well that I hate it when you do that."

"Umm… will you miss me, Romano?" he asked, a blush rising to his face. Of course he would deny it. Of course he would push him away, running far and never returning. However, what surprised him was when the younger boy looked at him, with the widest eyes he had ever seen, and smiled.

A small one, at that, but a smile nonetheless. It was a pure, genuine smile that reached his eyes and lit his entire face, emanating a youthful glow. Antonio's breath hitched when he caught sight of that smile, and then it was gone. One of the last gifts Romano had given him; the blessing of that particular memory. Ah, how bittersweet it is, the personification thought during the brief phenomenon.

After that breathtaking moment, he started blushing furiously and didn't meet the taller man's eyes, until finally he let out a deep sigh. Due to the close proximity of their faces [since Antonio was looking down for Romano's benefit], the Spaniard could feel that exact exhale cool his crimson demeanor. Although it could have been otherwise, he swore the hairs at the back of his neck stood, indicating an oncoming shiver. But from what?

"W-Well, tomato bastard, I mean… umm, you've been my caretaker for so long, so… I mean, not having you around, or living in your house, is kind of… weird. B-But, you know, I just… Eh, about you I… I… Crap, well I don't know how to fucking explain this sappy shit...," he stumbled on his words, trying to convey how he felt. Antonio understood enough, though, and grinned as he watched the shorter boy confess things he normally wouldn't say. After a few more seconds of profanities and murmurs, he felt that Romano should be stopped before his face overheated.

"There there, Roma, I understand exactly what you mean. And I'm happy you're trying so hard; years ago you would have just head butted me and ran off~! You've really grown, Romano, and I know you'll do just fine." And when the gravity of his words hit him, Antonio realized that what he said was the truth. In height, weight, and personality, Romano was growing up, and moving on to another place.

Without Antonio.

The lump in his throat returned, and he could feel a stinging sensation in the back of his eyes, so the Spaniard tried to fight back. Hiding his struggle, he hugged Romano again. Without protesting, Antonio could feel the boy's body relax and lean on him. It was then that Romano looked up at Antonio with his face turning ten shades of red, and while closing his eyes slowly, breathed out a heavy sigh. For the oddest of reasons, Romano's beet-red, yet peaceful expression made the Iberian personification's heartbeat race rapidly, and he could feel his face involuntarily nearing the Italian's slowly.

"Spain, I thi-"

"ROMANO! YOU'D BEST BE HURRYING!" Austria's voice rang throughout the front of Antonio's mansion, resonating to his doorway where he and Romano were standing. Frowning in annoyance, he let go of the aggravated boy and smiled gently, trying to cover up the sadness in his voice.

"Goodbye, Romano. Te adoro, mi tesoro. I always will, and no matter how much you grow, my feelings and affections will never waver. Whenever you need someone, I'd like to be the one you come to. Is that too much to ask for?" he asked, a pout resting on his lips. Romano rolled his eyes, but still tried to fight the blush that invaded his cheeks nearly every second he was around his retainer.

"Whatever, bastardo. Do what you want. Unfortunately, you probably need me more than I need you," he retorted, quickly regretting his playful move. Antonio laughed, squeezing the younger boy's shoulder.

"I'm happy you think so too, Roma~!"

"Tch, it's only because you always look like a kicked puppy when you're sa-"

"ROMANO! I'M GROWING IMPATIENT!" Said Italian growled in frustration, sending shivers down Antonio's spine. Whether pleasant or fearful, he knew not, and didn't want to, for that matter.

"YELL ONE MORE FUCKING TIME— ONE MORE FUCKING TIME— AND I SWEAR I'LL MAKE YOUR POSH LIFE A LIVING HELL!" He shouted in response, silencing Austria for good. Then he grabbed his things and took one last look at his former caretaker. Pain was a conflicting emotion in Antonio's eyes, and Romano could see his distress. But saying goodbye wasn't easy for him either. In fact, the agony felt like it would tear him to the seams of his existence.

"Well, later then, Spain. Addio," he managed to say under the burning gaze of the older man. Antonio nodded in response. This was it; there last moments together.

"A-Adios."

Wordlessly, he watched as the one child he swore he would always protect walked out his door, taking a piece of Antonio with him: all their memories, all those moments that he cherished, and that one little Italian that left him with an emotion that he deemed unrecognizable. As the lump in his throat became unbearable and the unknown force bearing down on his chest hurt far too much, he began to cry. Leaning on the wall of his living room, he bawled to his heart's content.

He cried for Romano, he cried for the time they spent together, but mostly—he knew—he was crying for himself. Because without that child, he understood that his life would never be the same, and that nothing could fill the void Romano left. Who knew how long it would be until they saw each other again? Would the boy still care? Antonio was left in his despair, to doubt their relationship in the future, and to deny that a small part of him had been aware of what was going on. A small part of him knew why he felt so empty and why he longed for Romano more than a guardian or 'older brother' would.

But he learnt better than to feel that way, no, to even think that way about the person he had practically raised. So those hindrances of thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind as he continued to weep…

"R-Romano."

A child so strong, so passionate, so unrelenting, so ambitious! Gone! My Romano is gone, and it's all my fault! My Roma is…

"Romano!"

… Because there was no possible way that he could ever love Romano in a way that was not platonic, but rather…

Romantic.