He knew smoking was a bad habit, and that, long term, it could lead to cancer, and then death, but he continued to smoke, he continued to suffocate himself through the fumes and fog he gave off each time he'd done it, but he needed some way to console himself, to break away from all his thoughts. Any normal human being may have gone mad by now, but being a country, this wasn't the case, he had to keep himself composed for the people that lived in Spain. He'd lost the one he'd loved and pushed away the one that loved him, things were truly set in the dimmer side of life.
Meanwhile, a young boy rested peacefully in a large bed, suddenly, he began to shiver violently, wincing and creating other noises as he tossed and turned. A young girl, much resembling said boy, entered into his room, flipping a light switch in the hallway just outside his room.
She watched him, standing at his bedside, trying to figure out what she could do without awakening him, then it occurred to her, there was that pillow, she walked over to a chest that lay at the bottom of the bed, flipping it open and rummaging through old shirts to finally pull out a large, long, Spain's flag pillow, closing the chest and carrying it over to Romano. She set it there beside him and watched with a slight smile as he wrapped his arms around it, pressing it to his face and taking in a long whiff. She knew the scent coating this pillow, was that of a man she was in love with, and she knew her cousin laying there was in love with him too, more than even she could imagine. The scents rose through Romano's nose, they were those of dust, but, not the kind you found inside, more like a coat of dirt from a well worked garden, a fresh smell, there was also a slight scent of tomato soup, and, home. Romano curled his arms around the pillow tighter, not once wishing to let go, for in his dreams, this pillow, truly was the man he refused to see.
Romona, or Lovina Vargas, was content on the thought that he was alright now, but as she turned to leave, she had to pause, for she heard something slip her cousin's lips, something that sent chills through her, something that made her feel even worse for not telling the Spaniard that his love was alive.
She peered back at Romano, watching as she saw a tear glisten down his cheek and onto the pillow, Romano must have felt it, for he buried his face into the object, clasping the extra materials tightly in his fists, imagining they were the shirt of the one he'd fallen for unexpectedly. Romona sighed, exiting the room and turning off the hallway light. She stood there for a few minuets, contemplating what was the best thing to do, she loved the Spaniard too, and it was tearing her up inside not to tell him that his beloved was breathing, every time she saw him in the halls of the meeting place, every fake smile, took everything out of her. She felt so snide, so, worthless, helpless, over-all... lost. Yet, she respected her cousin's desires, and though he wouldn't tell her why this was going on, she didn't doubt him, or what he was trying for, even if keeping his secrets caused her to ache so badly, that she couldn't fall asleep at night without taking pills to help.
There came a knock at the door, it was a light one, a seemingly broken one, and when Spain opened the door, he was automatically embraced by a short blonde, shorter than himself anyway.
"Spain... I just..."
He put a hand to her hair, stroking it before embracing his familiar friend in his own hug. It would be said by anyone that had hugged the Spaniard before, that he gave the best hugs, the warmest ones, the most consuming of one's body and being. He hadn't seen her in a very long time, it was rather astounding to see her now. After a while of just, standing there, Belgium breathing in the smoke she could distinctly smell on his clothes, the set of them walked into the dining room, where Spain began to cook for them, omelets. She looked into her cup of coffee she'd been generously given by her host, rubbing a finger against it nervously, afraid to say what she wanted. She then looked up, he'd changed so much, she began to inspect him with her vision, trying to take in all the changes. His hygiene was one thing, it seemed as though it had gone down the toilet as far as combing his hair or washing his clothes go, his hair was at least clean, showing that he did take showers, but, this wasn't enough to keep one healthy. There were also very heavy, thick, dark bags under his eyes, she knew he still hadn't been sleeping well, and she wished he'd never stopped asking for help, but, there was no point in dwelling on that matter now, no matter what she tried to do to persuade him, he wouldn't falter into her aid. Not now.
It was a daring move for her to say anything, and as she mustered up the courage and let it slip, her vision quickly set back into her coffee cup, still as full as it had ever been.
She got up from her seat slowly, walking up to the Spaniard, close enough to lean against his side, which she did, brushing herself close, but not hugging him like what one would normally do at this point. He turned to see her face moving closer as she leaned in, raising herself by standing on her toes.
She locked him in a kiss, causing him to drop the spatula he'd been using for the eggs. Her kiss, it was familiar, they had done this once before, he was sure of it. He let his eyes close, his hands moving up to her face, holding her as the kissing continued, then suddenly, a flash... Romano? Antonio's eyes shot open and his hands moved to her chest, pushing her away as he tripped back some. Both of their breathing was heavy, and the two of them were staring at one another now, both set with piercing glares.
"So what if I am! I am still conscious enough to know what's right! And this is fucked up!"
"You stand in here, missing... missing both of them and.."
Belgium now leaned against the kitchen counters, a hand clasped swiftly over her mouth as the water ducts of her eyes began to go to work.
Spain stepped up to her, causing her to look up at him, the typical chain reaction. He wrapped his fingers tightly around her arms, just bellow her shoulders, pulling her close and clasping her in another kiss. Then, he stopped...
His bangs were hiding those luring emerald eyes, and the tears were already falling down her face, but, Spain now had Belgium's full attention.
"Tell me... was that kiss... was it more special than... than his?"
"Wh.. what are y-"
Belgium turned away, a bit discouraged by his angered, forceful tone. A tone he seldom ever let show.
She looked back at him now, for she couldn't get away, his fingers were still tight on her arms, potentially causing bruises for how long they'd been there.
"Then why? We'd kissed before and you came to the same conclusion, we even... so why do you do this?"
"Because I don't want you to be alone!"
Spain's eyes widened yet again when he heard her explanation, his grip loosening some now.
"... Its not... Its not fair! Of all people, Spain.. Spain y-... you don't deserve to be alone!"
He let go all the way now, backing away from her and standing near the stove, where the eggs began to burn, pushing a shaking hand through his bangs.
"You say you're fine.. but we all know that isn't true.. you are endearing, you are wonderful, so why is it you have to suffer!?"
"Because I made a mistake!"
His tone was frightening, and the way he'd turned to her when he'd said it, it was so violent, so forcing. Then, when he'd calmed himself from the edge of insanity, he turned back to how he had been against the stove, turning the stove off with a flick of his right hand.
"Spain.. you didn't know that train wo-"
Shock patterned her expression, but, she was positive that arguing would be in vain, and thus, she ran out, leaving Spain to stand there alone, alone to think hard on so many misplaced things, he was truly wrecked, that joyous him was locked away somewhere, begging to escape, though it may never escape again.