Someone To Lean On

Whenever I'm Without You

"Oi, bastardo! I'll be visiting Veneziano today!" Romano called to his former caretaker.

"Ah, do you need me to escort you, Roma?" Spain asked, beaming at his little tomate.

"Tch. No need bastardo, I can go there by myself," Romano opened the front door.

"Well then, I'll be leaving now. Ciao!" he then walked out of the house, leaving a smiling Spain behind - or that was before Romano exited the house.

Spain sighed as he collapsed on his couch, draping an arm over his eyes. It's just been a few minutes but he already missed Romano. He removed his arm on his eyes and stared at the ceiling with a sad gaze. He didn't know why is he feeling like that, and it doesn't surprise our favourite Spaniard because he himself knew that he's oblivious and it is a foreign feeling after all. Maybe he's just used to having Romano beside him all the time; but that's not really the case here.

He pushed aside those thoughts as he groaned in boredom. He then proceeded recall all the times that they were together. He remembered Romano in that silly little maid dress with his chubby cheeks (it's really soft and cute, may I add). He remembered him tending his wounds when he came back from war (he cringed when he remembered that time) and scolding him; it's a cute event, by the way, seeing Romano being concerned and worried about the Spaniard (that Romano wouldn't ever admit). He remembered the times that they'll tend and pick the best tomatoes and eat them together later.

He chuckled when he recalled the times when Romano turned tomato red from anger or embarrassment and Spain would occasionally point that out; all resulted in receiving a headbutt from the fiery Italian.

He didn't even notice that it's already dinner for he was too occupied in reminiscing such happy (and a bit sad) memories from the past. He snapped out of his trance when his phone vibrated. He pulled it out and saw that Romano's calling. He quickly accepted it and put the phone in his ear, a smile gracing his features.

"¿Hola?"

"Oi, Spagna! I forgot to say that I'll spend a night here. So yeah. I-It's not like you really need to know about it! Damn it!!" Romano mini-ranted on the other side of the phone.

Spain chuckled, "Okay Roma. Whatever you say. Have fun!"

"Sure.." Romano then hang up.

And then again, Spain's smile fell. He really isn't his usual self when Romano's not around. It's as if he is Spain's energy source or something.

A low grumble interrupted his thoughts, and he remembered he hadn't eaten anything yet.

"Ah, maybe I'll cook Roma's favourite food so I won't be missing him too much!"

Oh how wrong he is.

It's been just a few days after Romano came back from his one day vacation to his brother's house (which he didn't really enjoyed much because of the stupid potato ass) and Romano needed to leave again for work.

"When are you going to get back Romano?" asked Spain.

"Maybe a few days to a week. I don't really fucking know, my boss just needs me to work," Romano grumbled.

Spain's smile faltered, but he didn't want to worry his tomate so he tried his best not to falter his smile again.

"Ah, I understand. Though I wish you would come back soon," said Spain.

"No promises."

Spain sat on a lawn chair at the back of his house, a guitar in his hands. He smiled down at it and played a melody; it was somewhat sad, really matching the Spaniard's feelings, though it didn't really fit him since he's almost always happy.

The reason behind his gloomy aura is Romano. It's just been a couple of days but he missed his tomato too much that it hurts; he didn't know why, and he might never know. But a little voice inside his head told him otherwise, that he already knew what is he feeling, that he's just too oblivious to know - which is kind of true, really.

And thus, the lyrics of the music he is playing came out on his mouth smoothly, as if he's the one who composed and sang the song, full of emotions that wants to escape from the Spaniard's heavy chest. More words came out, as if he's telling a story by singing a song and at last, the last words was spoken, the Spaniard imagining his little fiery Italian.

"Without you I'm just a sad song.."

Which is really true; yes, he is a happy song, but that is if Romano is beside him.

"Spain?"

He almost threw his beloved guitar in shock.

"Ro-Romano?"

"What do you mean.. you are just a sad song?" said Italian asked.

Spain sighed, not knowing what to say.

"Spain, answer me," Romano said firmly.

"It's silly.."

"But everything you say is silly, you dumbass," Romano retorted.

"Exactly. So why bother?" said Spain uncharacteristically (so mouthful).

Romano looked at him as if he had grown two heads, "You will answer me or I'll throw away all of your damn turtles."

Spain's eyes widened and calm himself after, "Fine.."

"Well?"

Instead of answering, Spain gracefully hugged him.

"I.. I just missed you so much.."

Romano's face flushed, "Sh-Shut up, bastard! And get off of me!"

But Spain won't let go anytime soon, for he just realized what he was feeling and wanted to last this hug for as long as possible.

A/N: I finally finished and posted this after many re-writings.