I'll be completely honest with you, I never got art. Not just paintings and drawing but also the way people used words; literature. I didn't understand how a combination of 26 letters can tell so many different stories or how words and paragraphs made of those tiny little letters could change a life forever. Just like in those romance novels where two lovers are pen-pals and when they finally meet they get married and begin to start a family. Can that really happen? I used to think while reading those stories. Can words written on a paper really mean that much to a person? How can there even be emotion, how can one understand the others meaning of the words if one can't hear the tone of voice? I thought that the tone meant everything; and it kind of does in person, but not on paper. I learned that you can get your feelings across using nothing but those 26 little letters and that you, if you have the heart, can make a masterpiece.

It was summer, hot and moist. The air surrounded me, it suffocated me. As I pulled the weeds from the garden I could almost hear my sweat droplets hitting the cement below and sizzling with the contact of a hot, solid surface. I wiped my forehead with the back of my gloved hand. In the background I could hear Feliciano scampering around the fields as I did all the work. Sighing I removed my hat and instantly regretted that decision. Violent sun rays cascaded into my eyes and blinded me for a split second as I raised my hand in an attempt to shield my vulnerable corneas. My eyes began to ache and I saw small black dots in my vision. Fuck, I thought. Losing cells. I pinched the bridge of my nose and kept my eyes shut tightly until the dots cleared away.

Though for a minute I was blind I could still hear, and I heard footsteps come up and a figure stand next to me. "What's wrong Romano?" I heard my little brother ask as he took a knee and touched my shoulder. "You look a little sad."

"I'm not sad." I tried to be nice given that he was only trying to help after all. I opened my eyes and brought my hand down from my face. "I looked into the sun that's all."

"Well that's silly!" Feliciano stood happily. "Why would you do something like that? Never mind, when you're done you should come and play with me!"

I outstretched my arm and took a great hold of the stem of a mighty weed and pulled; uprooting it a little but not much. "I'm not done. Why don't you go inside, huh? It's getting warm out here."

"But I love the sun! It's so bright and cheery. Also, I don't like the indoors; it's boring." He slumped and looked sadly at me beneath him.

"Do what you want." I said harshly. "I don't care just don't die, cause then I'll have to take care of your land for you."

His face brightened. "Oh really? Thanks Romano, I'll be out in the front if you need me."

It's funny that he has to have permission from me to do things. It's not like he's a baby anymore. He can make decisions on his own. The thought that my brother still might look up to me after all these years made me smile; which was something I didn't do very often.

"Mr. Vargas!" The butler called from around the building. "Mr. Vargas!" I pulled hard on the weed once more, so hard in fact that when it came up I fell on my back and onto the cement strip. The uprooting of the plant caused some loose soil to sprinkle itself all over my jean working suspenders. Thankfully my orange T-Shirt beneath was saved; I liked that shirt.

"Which one?" I responded, still on the ground and seeing no reason to get up.

"You of course sir." The butler smiled warmly at me in a way that made me feel oddly uneasy. "You have a visitor in the lobby."

"Tell them to go away." I demanded. " I'm busy."

He looked at me up and down with the wrinkles of his old face moving as he did so. "All do respect, but it doesn't look like it." He sighed. "Sir, he demands your presence immediately. He says that it's of the essence and that it is important."

I groaned in annoyance and got to my feet. The only reason that I got up was because the pavement was burning though my clothes and aggressively into the skin of my back. "Fine, but only for a minute." I snarled as I followed him into the lobby of my house and then face I saw immediately dropped my stomach.

"Hola, Romano. Gracias señor mayordomo. Es muy amable de su parte." He said to me, then nodded politely at my butler. The older man nodded back and stepped out of the room and into the kitchens. I eyed Spain for a minute, because I knew from the second I walked in that he wasn't the usual happy go lucky Spaniard. Instead he was serious and almost afraid or nervous in my opinion. I crossed my arms and leant back against the small and useless table that was merely there for me to lean against in times like this.

"Okay, who died?" I asked, biting my lip. Spain chuckled precariously.

"Oh Lovino, always trying to crack a joke; but this time my friend it isn't funny."

"But I wasn't trying to be funny, I was asking a legitimate question." I took a breath and a moment to prepare myself for what was coming; because whatever it was I knew it had to be bad. "You never have this odd type of aura shit around you, what's wrong with you? And why do you look like you dug your way out of Hell?" It was about time I noticed the cuts and bruises on his face and arms. For whatever reason I felt an extreme sense of concern for him; but I only let that show for a brief amount of time.

He played with the papers on the opposing table and refused to look me in the eye. "I got in a car accident the other day. Don't worry, I'm fine. Everything's fine, I just came by to check on you; to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine." I readjusted uncomfortably and looked out the window then covered my mouth with my hand. "Thanks. It's good that you're okay." I blushed when I said that last part, showing affection wasn't one of my talents.

Spain sighed. "Well, I just came to drop by for a second. I see that you're busy so I'll leave you alone. But do me a favor and stay inside, it's hot today and I don't want you to over exert yourself." He examined my work clothes and I suddenly became extremely embarrassed. The outfit wasn't something I'd ever go out in public in. He made his way to the door and turned the knob but then turned to me before completely leaving. "Can I have a hug?"

Now normally this isn't the type of thing I would do but, his face; it was was so heartbreaking. He looked almost as if he'd lost the most important thing to him. It never crossed my mind that his most important thing would be me. Out of my resume, I walked towards him swiftly and threw my arms around his neck then pulled myself up against his chest tightly. He let out a sigh and held me tightly, neither of us let go and I think it was because it felt nice in each other's arms for once. I felt safe, and I think he felt safe too, even though I probably wouldn't be able to protect him from anything he knows that I would surely try. After a few solemn moments he let me go and walked out the door without even saying goodbye. I huffed sadly; it hurt me to see him this way and that was a fact I couldn't deny.

With slumped shoulders, I went over to my desk and obeyed his orders of not going back outside. Siting in the hand-crafted wooden chair, I laid my head on the desk and sat there watching the clock like a sloth watching the sunrise. I didn't even know what to do, I didn't even know what I was waiting for! Was I even waiting for something? The sun set and Feliciano went home, and once again I was all alone with the butler and the maid. Except the maid went on holiday and the butler was the only person I had to talk to; not that I actually talked to him. The hours went on by as I watched the second hand ticked by slowly.

Before I knew it the sun had set and darkness was cast over my roof. The sun and all of it's brightness was elsewhere over in America and Canada's part of the globe.

The butler came over to me and stood by my side with his arms folded politely behind his back. When he asked me if I was alright I responded with nothing but a simple sigh. He left for bed when I reached for my pile of papers and began to work. As I filled out times and dates I couldn't push Spain's visit out of my mind. I was able to concentrate but the thought of him was always there; just lingering for the moment where I stopped thinking so it could pounce me and send me into a downward spiral of despair. I whined as my brain jumbled up another word into the word 'Spain' and cause the wheels of my brain to turn and think about nothing but him. Why do I care so much? I thought as I rubbed my temples with my elbows planted firmly on the desk. A groan escaped the back of my throat as I let one of my arms down; but sadly in doing that I knocked some of my papers onto the floor. Are you fucking kidding me? Exasperated, I took a knee and began to gather the documents in my hands. As I shook one out, an envelope fell into the tiled floor. "Huh?" I asked myself as I picked it up and set the pile on my desk, then fingered the envelope. It was simple, white, plain; with my name written in slanted writing. What the Hell is this? opening it carefully I rested on the corner of the desk, supporting my weight with my outstretched hand while I began to read with the letter in the other.

Dearest Romano,

I'm sorry if I scared you by dropping by, but I just needed to see you. I needed to be in all certainty that you were fine and okay. As I probably told you I was recently in a car accident, and that car accident has proved a lot to me lately. It showed me what I really cared about and what I really wanted in life. They say that your entire life flashes through you're eyes but it doesn't really. The only thing I could think of when that car hit me was all the things that I've never said to the people I love; to you.

Now, as you know I'm not there with you at the moment. You probably think that I'm a pansy for doing this and not saying it to you in person but you have to know that I literally can't say this in front of you; it would probably kill me if not worse. I've known you since almost forever and I would have never have thought that I'd be doing this. Ever since the first day I met you I knew that you were a beautiful person through and through, even if you didn't see that in me. I could see it when I looked at you, I could see the man you were going to become. I don't think you understand but I cared about you a lot, I still do and no matter what you do that fact will never change. I would have protected you from anything and laid my life on the line and I'm being honest when I say that I would still even after all these years.

When I see you now I get this feeling in my stomach and at first I thought it was pride but it isn't. I learned that as my car rolled and flipped down the street with me inside of it. That warm feeling I get in my stomach when you enter the room or that smile that automatically comes to my face whenever you do something as simple as look at me. That's not pride no, because I've felt pride and that's in your heart not your soul. It make you puff out your chest and hold your chin up higher. It doesn't make you blush or have such high potency that you touch your abdomen in response to try and calm the intense feel. That's something entirely different, Romano.

I don't know if you know but I come and visit more often then you think. I'll stop by the town while you're shopping just to make sure you're alright and that you don't need me. A few of those times I've seen you with several young ladies on your arm; and nothing has made my heart sink into a pit of sorrow faster. That, that is not pride; that is the exact opposite of pride.

At first I didn't know what it was but I knew what it couldn't be. I denied it, I told myself that I wouldn't do that and that I knew you for much to long to ever feel an emotion as strong as this. I made a deal with myself that that would never happen and that this feeling doesn't exist and that I would never talk about it and especially not in front of you. Well apparently, something went wrong on one of my ends of the bargain. I did feel it, I do feel it and I felt it the strongest in that accident a few days ago. I needed you, I needed while I was lying on the pavement trying to crawl and get help. I needed someone to be there for me, the pain was so great I needed someone that would give me a reason to not give up.

I know there is a great risk in this letter, but I finally realized that I can't get where I want to go without taking that next step. I knew that if I didn't do this then I would remain in the same position I am now; alone, and longing. Truth is, I'd rather you hate me and never want to speak to me again than not doing anything and wondering if whether or not there was something; that maybe you felt it too. I love you, Romano. I love you more than anything else in this world and the only thing I want is for you to be happy; but it'd make my life if you would be happy with me. However, as much as I would love a relationship between us if the love is one sides than that's it; I'll leave you alone and you won't ever have to speak to me. If you're uncomfortable you don't ever have to give a response, I'll figure it out sooner or later.

Love always,
Antonio

I hadn't realized that I'd been crying. As I set the tear-stained paper down with a shaky hand on my desk of mahogany I stood there in my lonesome and began to process everything. I wiped my face and sniffled then ran my fingers through my hair. What's going on? I thought. I don't understand what's happening. Spain, what did you do?

As if my mind moved my body without my consent, I was packing my bags and heading off to the nearest flight to Madrid within an hour. What was I going to do there? I didn't know, I just knew that I had to do something. I sat there with my phone in my hand and simply stared at his number in my contacts while in my plane seat. He hadn't called me or texted me after the visit. He acted completely normal as if he hadn't done anything; as if he hadn't just told what could have been his most incriminating secret to the one person he didn't want to know. How could he think that I would hate him? I thought. How could anyone hate anyone after something as brave as that.

I loved him back, and I didn't mean to. Finally, as the plane took off the strip, I dozed off. I'm not going to lie and say that I did not dream about Spain the entire way there.

When I stepped of the plane and into Spaniard soil it was immensely dark, even with the time change between our nations. I sighed heavily. For a moment I reflected back on myself. I was starting to become angry with him. I let out an irritated sigh and pulled my suitcase behind me as I walked to his estate. When I got there I pounded harshly on the door with my balled fist. When he didn't answer I yelled. "I know you're in there! Answer the damned door!" Still, only silence.

Determined to reach him somehow, I l pulled my luggage against the door and took of in search of him. I came around the bend of the house to his un-fenced back yard. It was a very large landscape with a variety of fields like tall grass, wheat and tomato plants; along with some kind of vine of sorts. Oh how I missed being there, it was funny because right in the middle of that wheat field there was a giant oak tree that was horribly misplaced. I saw in out in the the wheat field, a tan Spanish man that was picking off the ready to harvest wheat heads. "Hey!" I screamed at him, while stomping over to him.

"Ah, hola amigo de Romano." Spain said casually. Did he think I hadn't gotten his letter yet? He let the plant slip from his hand and onto the straw covered ground gently without looking at me. I began to scream at him all of my feelings in his native language which he taught me long ago. I told him about what an asshole he was for not giving me any warning about the letter or what was coming and how it was going to be an emotional strain on me. I pushed him back wards against his chest with my hands as a punctuation of every word because the more I screamed the more angry I became. I pushed him until he was hard against the tree.

"Jesus, I didn't think you'd be this upset with me." He said quietly. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have told you."

I groaned and threw my hands in the air. "It's not you loving me it's that you didn't prepare me!"

"For what?"

"Loving you back!" I screamed and gripped both sides of his face with my hands and kissed him harshly on the mouth with no intent to let go. I could tell he was surprised because he was tense at first, but then relaxed and let me push his body further into the oak's trunk with my own. Our kiss wasn't passionate it was more filled with desperation than anything. after a while he lightly grasped my hips and pushed me away.

"Stop." He said as we both gasped for air. He lent his forehead against mine and we closed out eyes; happy to just be in each other's arms. "We need to breathe remember?" We both began to chuckle and I swear, all night we stayed out there, just in the wheat and the gardens looking up at the sky with his face nuzzled into my neck. He couldn't get enough of me and it was a good feeling; feeling needed. I felt the way Italy felt with Germany, and it was nice.

My ignorance was resolved. I finally learned what the power of the pen can do. I always thought that that saying was stupid as hell but it proved to be true; I just wasn't using the phrase in the right way. It wasn't about fighting or war, it was about love. You don't need to fight for the person you want, you have to tell them and let them come to you; you can't force it on them. The pen truly does have more might than the paper.