We Are Young: A Spamano Fanfiction

     I lied awake many nights watching you as you slept and I wondered if you ever blamed me, as much as I blamed myself. I would watch as you often tossed and turned and wondered, if I was the reason for your bad dreams. I wasn't even sure if I should trust myself around you anymore, when my thoughts got to this point, I would leave the room, and let you awaken alone. Was I selfish for letting you awaken alone? All these questions, didn't help ease my mind any, because I was sure they were things you might be questioning of me in your mind as well, things neither of us could confront or talk about because we were doing our best to forget it. I knew you were the jealous type, but apparently, I was worse. You remember what had happened, you started to go places with a young girl often, you said she was an assistant to your boss and she was helping you get through some financial things I couldn't help you with, yet I began to grow jealous of her, as you spent more time with her than you did with me. Then, on a night like many, when I was out drinking with Prussia and France...
   "Youshould.. t'tollay..."
"Whut.. wh-"
      "Youshould go.. t-tell him you'renot gon' take.. the shit..."
          At that point Prussia fell off of his chair, seeing as he was standing on it at the time, but to an upset drunk like me, what he'd said, made perfect sense. Why shouldn't I confront you about spending time with that woman? When you were supposed to be devoting your time to me, seeing as we were finally going out after the many times that I'd pestered you about it. So I went to the restaurant you told me you were going to be in, honestly I don't remember driving there, so I'm not sure how I got there really, other than I might've taken a cab, anyways, when I'd gotten there, when I'd seen you and her chatting at a table in such a casual manor, I blacked out.
      I don't remember the few minuets that followed, I only remember coming back to reality when I saw blood running down your arm from where you sat on the ground, you holding the wound and staring up at me in a pit of fear. I'll never forget that look you had, a look I'd never seen, and had never wanted to see again. When I think about it, I'm surprised you still wanted to be with me after that, I'm surprised you wanted to speak with me at all. Yet you still did, you still scold me, push me away playfully, you still act normal. Why is that?
    Why do you act normal around me Romano, why bother. I know you spend hours at a time thinking about what happened, looking at the scar I gave you and thinking about the horrors that occurred that night, I know you occasionally cry about it as well, I've seen the tears behind your eyes when I randomly approach you throughout the day. I should have trusted you, everything would have been different if I'd just trusted that you truly loved me, like I know you do now. More than anything I try to take back what I did, I never suspect anything like that anymore and I do my best to be a goo-

"What are you writing now bastardo?"
    "What?"
Spain closed the small notebook in his hands and looked up to his lover in innocent questioning.
   "You're always writing in that small black book I gave you... why? What do you write about in there anyway?"
   "Well Roma... what do you write about in yours?"
Romano pulled the toothbrush from his mouth and scrunched his nose.
   "Nothing you need to know about bastardo..."
As he turned to head back to the bathroom and dispose of the toothpaste in his mouth, Spain eyed the scar on his lover's arm, thinking back to all he'd just written and wishing that it had settled him some, though it didn't.
   "Are you staring at my ass again idiota?"
"Wha- oh..! I-I was staring?"
   With a roll of his eyes, he shut the bathroom door and turned the sink on to wash the toothpaste out of his toothbrush, secretly doing his best to avoid looking up into the mirror, knowing he'd find those tears hiding in his eyelids, as per usual. Antonio turned back to his small notebook, massaging the cover with his thumb, deep within his own thoughts, not wanting to open it back up and write anymore, though there was one last thing he wanted to write inside, something to stop his stupid obsession with writing in the book, so he re-opened it, turned to the page he was on, and wrote;
   'I love you Romano, I promise I'll be good from now on.'
It didn't matter that he hadn't finished his previous sentence, he'd written the same love pledge on every page when he was done with them, and this being his last page, he knew he'd be closing the notebook forever, and had to pledge the same love, before said page was too full to do so.
   "You done with your notebook idiota?"
"Lovi! Y-you keep sneaking up on me like that amor..."
   "Yeah yeah.. you done or not?"
"I'm done..."
    "Alright then.."
         Romano stood up straight and offered a hand to Antonio, whom took it, following Lovino out of his apartment, to the elevator. The two of them stood within it quietly, both had done this many times before, always feeling as though a single word would ruin the effect of what they were to do. Once the elevator reached the bottom floor, the left it, left the building entirely, heading down the street, just as silent as before. They walked for a while, the stars above them, street lights and lines of cars at their right, buildings at their left. Buildings where families lived, where widows lived, where rats lived, all life around them, yet not a sign of it, either than the traces it had left behind. The time it would take to think of all possibilities of the life form's existence, was about how long it seemed it took for the two lovers to reach their destination.
      Looking ahead they saw the ocean, sand beneath their feet and nothing else around them.
"You ready?"
    "Si..."
"Lets get it over with then..."
    Romano took a lighter from his left pocket, his own notebook from the right.
"You want to go first or should I?"
     "You went first last time... I'll go..."
"Right.."
    Romano handed Spain the lighter, and taking it, the Spaniard walked ahead on the beach, Romano walking close at his heels. Antonio lit the lighter and set the flame to his small book, watching as it caught fire and began to turn into black and gray ash, being carried by the soft wind of night. After his small notebook was nothing but ashes, he handed the lighter back to Romano, whom did the same with his notebook.
    The two stayed silent the rest of the way home, knowing that they could let go for now, knowing that they would return home, open a closet, take out two more small notebooks, and start again. Start writing out their problems, their past, their sins, and their love. There was a difference between Antonio and Lovino though, whilst Antonio wrote out his regrets, the only thing Romano ever wrote on any of the pages was;
    'I love him, and I will always forgive him,'.