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Published: 2016-07-27 18:43:02 +0000 UTC; Views: 534; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 0
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Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairings: Eventual Spamano and GerIta with slight USUK.
Rating: T (For Romano's Mouth)
Hetalia never has been and never will be owned by me. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.
Chapter 3- Wine and Counseling
"I don't understand." Romano groaned to himself, ambling around the edge of the pond at his local park in the light of the sunset. "I'm supposed to have a week. So why is this all starting now?"
Romano was worried. Not the kind where you worry that if you let yourself get careless with your work, you'll get fired. No, this kind of worry could only be caused by one thing.
My doctor told me I would have about a week left to live. That seems pretty straightforward, right? he thought to himself, kicking a pebble and watching it skitter across the pavement. A week of life, and then suddenly anyone and everything you ever cared about suddenly gets brutally ripped out of your fingers by an evil knight with a blow torch and an evil grin who enjoys watching your pain and then he burns you alive and you yell for help but no one can hear you because the fire is sound proof. Simple.
Romano was also angry.
The reason Romano was worried was that it had been his understanding that one day he would simply just, stop existing.
He didn't know there would be agony.
So far that day his legs had given out from under him twice, he had nearly passed out in his front yard, and he kept seeing little white things swimming in his vision. Every step he took sent stabbing pain up his legs, and his head hurt like hell. And he still had six days of this! Rubbing his temples, Romano wasn't sure he'd be able to survive this much pain and aching. He was a country, he wasn't used to all this pain. This is what Humans suffered through. Countries were just supposed to peacefully fade. Suddenly, a horrible thought hit him like a truck.
Could he be turning into a human?!
Clutching a shaky hand to his chest, he half-heartedly assured himself otherwise. That's ridiculous. Why would that happen? Once a country, always a country. Besides, I don't think that's even possible.
"Oh, I don't know, it might be possible." France said, with a curious look on his face. "But why would you ask me something like that? Do you know of someone who thinks that might be happening to them?" The dread in Romano's heart made him feel sick. Might be possible! He came to France for comfort, not mental anguish!
"Oh, uh, no. It was just... hypothetical."
"Oh, I see. Well, if that's all you came to say, I would sure appreciate it if you would stay for awhile, sit down, maybe have some wine. You never stop by. How long has it been since I've seen you? Christmas?" Romano coughed a little, starting to feel embarrassed by France's sudden interest in him.
"New Years, actually. Of two years ago."
"Even more reason for you to stay a spell!" He smiled and pulled a second wine glass out of the cabinet. Then, in a musical tone of voice, he added "I won't take no for an answer, my boy~!" Realizing he was defeated, he slung his coat over the arm of France's couch and sat down. France poured a fruity-smelling red wine into a glass and handed it to him. He took it, muttering a 'thanks' and took a sip. It tasted like cherries.
"So, what's eating at you, my boy?"
"Eating at me?" France nodded and took a sip of his wine.
"Yes, you know. What's on your mind? What are you thinking about? Or in your case," He gently poked Romano's stomach, causing his to slap his hand away. "What are you worried about?"
Romano froze.
"Uhh... worried? I wouldn't say I'm... worried... so to speak... just a bit... stressed." He muttered, taking another sip out of his glass. France always had the best-tasting wine, but no one could ever figure out where he got it. He had tried to ask once, but he simply dismissed it as an 'ancient French secret'. Obviously not believing his lie, France clicked his tongue and sighed.
"Can't stop worrying long enough to even tell the truth, Lovi? Let me put your mind at ease. I raised a young nation myself, you know. Mathew Wilson. Finest young boy anyone would ask for. Made Canada the wonderful place it is. You know him, correct?" Romano nodded, not quite sure where he was going with this. "Well, a lot of the time he had problems that he didn't want me to know about because the sweet boy didn't want me to worry. I found out, of course. But my point is that you and Mathew share a lot of the same body language. The way you're gripping your glass with both hands and crossing just your feet over one another tell me your incredibly worried about something. And I can help you with it, if you'll just let me." Shocked that he had figured him out so quickly, Romano glanced down at his feet. Indeed, his right one was resting on top of his left.
Maybe France can help you, what have you got to lose? A small voice rang out in the back of his head. He had to admit, it made sense. France was generally a good problem solver, when he wasn't off being a flirtatious skirt-chaser. But, at the same time... He was close friends with Antonio.
"Lovino?"
"Y-yeah, actually, there is something. I gotta get it off my chest. But you have to promise not to tell ANYONE. Not even Gilbert or Antonio. ESPECIALLY not Antonio. Okay?" He watched as Francis brought three fingers up to his mouth, and then down to his heart. His little 'I promise' gesture. Okay, here goes...
"Mon cher Lovi, you cannot POSSIBLY expect me to keep this to myself!" France cried, setting his glass down with a loud clatter. "It's... this is... It's just-"
"A secret. Like you promised. Right?" Romano growled, glaring straight into his eyes. At first, France looked like he would argue. Put up a fight. Anything. But he just kind of sighed and leaned back into the couch.
"Oui. I'm a man of my word. No matter how much it may pain me to do so, I'll never tell another living soul. But, might I ask why you want this to be a secret? And why you chose to confide in me of all people? We're not the closest of people, after all." He was right. They weren't that close. It wasn't that Romano had been avoiding him. Although he didn't much care for any of Antonio's friends, he felt as though France was the least annoying out of them. When he wasn't off being a giant flirt, that is. However, the sheer fact was that France and the Italies lived very far apart, with little to no opportunity to so much as look each other in the eyes.
"Well, I picked to talk to you because you're one of those 'honor bound' people. I knew if I could get you to promise, you wouldn't tell. As for wanting it to be a secret... don't you think Antonio and Feliciano have enough problems as it is?" Sighing, the Frenchman nodded and picked his glass back up.
"Oui, you have a point there. Is there anything else you need to say while you're here?" Good question. Did he? Let me think... he's not telling... he promised that much.
"I have two final favors I need you to do."
"Oh? And what are they?"
"One," Romano said, taking a deep breath. "I want you to help me do some stuff I've always wanted to do. You know, help convince Antonio and such."
"Simple. And two?"
"Two..." He trailed off, his feeling momentarily halting his speech. "Two is that, when I'm gone, I want you to promise you'll help look after Feliciano for me." Smiling sympathetically, France put one hand on Romano's knee and nodded.
"I will. I promise."
Romano looked at France. He remembered hearing many people, England especially, complain about what a pervert he was. At this point in time, however, he was normal as could be. Maybe it was stress that wrangled him to sanity. Maybe it was loss. Maybe it was cherry wine. Whatever it was, Romano was glad that he was able to be serious when he needed it most.
"Oh, one more thing. I want that bottle of cherry wine."
"All of it? But that's not good for you."
"Who gives a fuck, I'm dying anyway!"
France watched Romano stroll down the walkway from his house, wine in one hand, iPod in the other. He had the ear buds in his ears and was currently listening to Heavy Metal. Taking a drink of the wine straight out of the bottle, he turned and waved good-bye to France. Then, he put the cork back on the bottle and ran down the street towards the bus stop. Sighing, France waved back. He felt bad. Really bad. He wished there was something he could do, but he knew there wasn't. Wandering back into his house and shutting the door, France noticed Romano had left his coat on his couch arm. Picking it up, he wandered over to the window. No, I can't give it to him now. He thought, watching Romano in the pale moonlight climb onto a bus. I'll get it to him tomorrow, when I can start helping him with his last days. Poor kid. Briefly, his eyes settled on the phone. Oh, how he wished he could call Antonio and explain what was going on. But a promise was a promise. France sat down on his couch and let out a long sigh. His foot nearly knocked into his wine glass, spilling it everywhere. Grabbing it to prevent that, he remembered the bottle he had given Romano. He laughed a bit when he remembered he was spending the night at Antonio's with Feli.
I wonder what 'Toni will say when he sees that bottle in his hand? I'll have to remember to ask about his reaction tomorrow.
With that thought, he carried the glasses into his kitchen and put them in the dishwasher, then hung Romano's coat on the doorknob of his bathroom to remind him of it. With that, promising himself to help Romano as much as he could, he went to go get ready for bed.
End of Chapter 3








