❝cause all i really want is to be with you feeling like i matter too❞
Title: Vistante de la Noche
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Words: -1,000
Characters: Spain ; Rome ; Romano
Rating: G
Warnings: n/a
Summary: If God allowed Rome to come back to earth for a day, why would he visit only one grandson? A birthday gift for my dear friend min19
Visitante de la Noche
In Madrid, the days were the time of sleep and the night was when the city came alive. Shop lights lit up, young couples wandered the streets, and everyone could be found out-and-about, ready with a smile.
This was the city that Spain loved above all others. Stretched out on a grassy hill overlooking the city, the nation half-dozed with a satisfied smile on his face. He often came here to look down upon his world-his way of making sure that everything was fine and well.
“Ah! Spain-is that you?”
Had it been in Spain’s character to be irritated at such an interruption, he might have grimaced as he blinked open his eyes. As it was, he merely lifted himself onto his elbows and yawned, not quite believing what his sleepy eyes were telling him.
“Abuelo?” he spoke the word even though he knew it couldn’t be true; his grandfather had faded away centuries ago. But as Spain looked closer, he saw the man he remembered from his earliest years-tall and broad-shouldered, with Spain’s own dark hair and Romano’s intense eyes, and Italy’s carefree smile. It seemed that there could be no denying it. Spain brought one hand to his mouth, muttering, “Dios mio,” before asking, “You’re a ghost, aren’t you?”
Rome-for who else could it possibly have been?-grinned cheekily at his grandson. “Yup,” he replied, “something like that.”
Spain rose to his feet and gaped at the former empire, his mouth hanging slack-jawed. “W-what are you doing here? How are you here?”
Blandly ignoring Spain’s questions, Rome asked, “Would you happen to know where Romano is?”
The younger nation stifled a sigh. As always, it was impossible to lead the conversation his way when his grandfather was involved. It would serve him better to figure out what the old empire was after.
“No,” he replied promptly. “Shouldn’t he be asleep in Rome?”
“You know, that’s what I thought, too, but he’s not there!” Rome chuckled. “Word on the street is that you always know where he is, Spain.”
Spain could not help but sigh, at that. Romano had been moodier than usual, lately, especially when he could see how close Italy and Germany were becoming. In Spain’s eyes, Romano was just lonely, but no one would expect the Italian to admit it.
“Ah, if you really don’t know, let’s just go back to your place.” Rome through an arm about Spain’s shoulders-the younger nation was surprised that his grandfather actually seemed physically real, and not a figment of his imagination at all. “You’ve got some wine, right?”
---
“…I thought you said you didn’t know where he was.”
Romano was sprawled out across the couch in Spain’s living room, a scowl on his thin features even in his sleep. He hugged his knees to his chest, his entire body hunched. Spain’s green eyes widened as he followed Rome into the house and spotted the Italian-had his skin tone not been what it was, he might have blushed.
“I didn’t,” Spain insisted. “And if you can come back from the dead, Abuelo, shouldn’t you have been able to find out where he was on your own?”
Rome, ignoring Spain yet again, took a seat beside Romano on the couch and patted his grandson’s head with a heavy hand. “…he never smiles, does he?”
Spain sighed. “Not very often,” he conceded.
“I wonder why that is,” Rome mused, brushing Romano’s hair back from his forehead.
The Iberian nation bit his lip, trying to force down words that spilled out of his mouth, anyway. “It’s sort of you fault, Abuelo.”
“My fault?” Rome looked genuinely surprised. “How do you figure that?”
Avoiding his grandfather’s gaze, Spain muttered, “Well, you always did favor Ita, you know.”
“No I didn’t!” Rome protested. He grimaced, then sighed-a gesture strangely similar to Spain’s of a moment earlier. “Well, I suppose I do. But I didn’t want Veneziano to be jealous of Romano.”
“Why would Ita be jealous of Romano? I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, Abuelo, but not many people notice Romano when his brother is around.”
“But I gave him Rome!” Spain’s grandfather protested again. “After that, how could I keep favoring him? You have to admit, Spain, it’s the best of all my cities-no offense to Madrid.”
Spain had never really looked at it that way, before. Put like that, Romano really was Rome’s namesake and heir-not Veneziano.
“Well, that still doesn’t help Romano, much,” Spain said at length. “He’s lonely, you know. Since Ita’s got so many new allies.”
“Oh, ya-Germania’s grandkid,” Rome chuckled. “I’m supposed to be visiting them, next.” He rose to his feet, brushing off his clothes and smiling at Spain. “I’d better get going.”
“Wait-you’re just going to leave?”
Rome titled his head and gave Spain a knowing grin. “Well-yah. Not much else I can do here, is there?”
“But you haven’t even spoken to Romano! He’s not even awake!”
“Those were the terms,” Rome muttered under his breath. “You can keep him company when he wakes up, Spain.” Before Spain could reply, his grandfather embraced him, then ruffled his hair. The next moment, he had gone.
“Seriously, Abuelo?” the Spaniard muttered. “You’re as random as ever.” But he was pleased.
---
The next morning, Romano awoke to find Spain asleep on the floor next to him, his head lolling against Romano’s arms. The older Italian twin immediately stiffened, then shoved Spain roughly away from him, sending the older man sprawling across the room.
“Hey, you bastard-just what do you think you’re doing?”
Spain, who had been woken by the force of Romano’s shove, got to his feet with a yawn. “…you’re the one who broke into my house last night, Romano.”
“I did not! You gave me a key!”
“Which you said you’d never use.”
“Shut up, stupid bastard,” Romano muttered. Spain, still trying to sort what of the previous night had been a dream from the reality, merely smiled.
---
Footnotes:
*If Rome visited Italy, why wouldn’t he visit Romano, too?-that was basically the inspiring thought of this fic. …nothing else needs to be footnoted.
Happy birthday, Min! I hope you enjoyed it! &hearts
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Words: -1,000
Characters: Spain ; Rome ; Romano
Rating: G
Warnings: n/a
Summary: If God allowed Rome to come back to earth for a day, why would he visit only one grandson? A birthday gift for my dear friend min19
Visitante de la Noche
In Madrid, the days were the time of sleep and the night was when the city came alive. Shop lights lit up, young couples wandered the streets, and everyone could be found out-and-about, ready with a smile.
This was the city that Spain loved above all others. Stretched out on a grassy hill overlooking the city, the nation half-dozed with a satisfied smile on his face. He often came here to look down upon his world-his way of making sure that everything was fine and well.
“Ah! Spain-is that you?”
Had it been in Spain’s character to be irritated at such an interruption, he might have grimaced as he blinked open his eyes. As it was, he merely lifted himself onto his elbows and yawned, not quite believing what his sleepy eyes were telling him.
“Abuelo?” he spoke the word even though he knew it couldn’t be true; his grandfather had faded away centuries ago. But as Spain looked closer, he saw the man he remembered from his earliest years-tall and broad-shouldered, with Spain’s own dark hair and Romano’s intense eyes, and Italy’s carefree smile. It seemed that there could be no denying it. Spain brought one hand to his mouth, muttering, “Dios mio,” before asking, “You’re a ghost, aren’t you?”
Rome-for who else could it possibly have been?-grinned cheekily at his grandson. “Yup,” he replied, “something like that.”
Spain rose to his feet and gaped at the former empire, his mouth hanging slack-jawed. “W-what are you doing here? How are you here?”
Blandly ignoring Spain’s questions, Rome asked, “Would you happen to know where Romano is?”
The younger nation stifled a sigh. As always, it was impossible to lead the conversation his way when his grandfather was involved. It would serve him better to figure out what the old empire was after.
“No,” he replied promptly. “Shouldn’t he be asleep in Rome?”
“You know, that’s what I thought, too, but he’s not there!” Rome chuckled. “Word on the street is that you always know where he is, Spain.”
Spain could not help but sigh, at that. Romano had been moodier than usual, lately, especially when he could see how close Italy and Germany were becoming. In Spain’s eyes, Romano was just lonely, but no one would expect the Italian to admit it.
“Ah, if you really don’t know, let’s just go back to your place.” Rome through an arm about Spain’s shoulders-the younger nation was surprised that his grandfather actually seemed physically real, and not a figment of his imagination at all. “You’ve got some wine, right?”
---
“…I thought you said you didn’t know where he was.”
Romano was sprawled out across the couch in Spain’s living room, a scowl on his thin features even in his sleep. He hugged his knees to his chest, his entire body hunched. Spain’s green eyes widened as he followed Rome into the house and spotted the Italian-had his skin tone not been what it was, he might have blushed.
“I didn’t,” Spain insisted. “And if you can come back from the dead, Abuelo, shouldn’t you have been able to find out where he was on your own?”
Rome, ignoring Spain yet again, took a seat beside Romano on the couch and patted his grandson’s head with a heavy hand. “…he never smiles, does he?”
Spain sighed. “Not very often,” he conceded.
“I wonder why that is,” Rome mused, brushing Romano’s hair back from his forehead.
The Iberian nation bit his lip, trying to force down words that spilled out of his mouth, anyway. “It’s sort of you fault, Abuelo.”
“My fault?” Rome looked genuinely surprised. “How do you figure that?”
Avoiding his grandfather’s gaze, Spain muttered, “Well, you always did favor Ita, you know.”
“No I didn’t!” Rome protested. He grimaced, then sighed-a gesture strangely similar to Spain’s of a moment earlier. “Well, I suppose I do. But I didn’t want Veneziano to be jealous of Romano.”
“Why would Ita be jealous of Romano? I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, Abuelo, but not many people notice Romano when his brother is around.”
“But I gave him Rome!” Spain’s grandfather protested again. “After that, how could I keep favoring him? You have to admit, Spain, it’s the best of all my cities-no offense to Madrid.”
Spain had never really looked at it that way, before. Put like that, Romano really was Rome’s namesake and heir-not Veneziano.
“Well, that still doesn’t help Romano, much,” Spain said at length. “He’s lonely, you know. Since Ita’s got so many new allies.”
“Oh, ya-Germania’s grandkid,” Rome chuckled. “I’m supposed to be visiting them, next.” He rose to his feet, brushing off his clothes and smiling at Spain. “I’d better get going.”
“Wait-you’re just going to leave?”
Rome titled his head and gave Spain a knowing grin. “Well-yah. Not much else I can do here, is there?”
“But you haven’t even spoken to Romano! He’s not even awake!”
“Those were the terms,” Rome muttered under his breath. “You can keep him company when he wakes up, Spain.” Before Spain could reply, his grandfather embraced him, then ruffled his hair. The next moment, he had gone.
“Seriously, Abuelo?” the Spaniard muttered. “You’re as random as ever.” But he was pleased.
---
The next morning, Romano awoke to find Spain asleep on the floor next to him, his head lolling against Romano’s arms. The older Italian twin immediately stiffened, then shoved Spain roughly away from him, sending the older man sprawling across the room.
“Hey, you bastard-just what do you think you’re doing?”
Spain, who had been woken by the force of Romano’s shove, got to his feet with a yawn. “…you’re the one who broke into my house last night, Romano.”
“I did not! You gave me a key!”
“Which you said you’d never use.”
“Shut up, stupid bastard,” Romano muttered. Spain, still trying to sort what of the previous night had been a dream from the reality, merely smiled.
---
Footnotes:
*If Rome visited Italy, why wouldn’t he visit Romano, too?-that was basically the inspiring thought of this fic. …nothing else needs to be footnoted.
Happy birthday, Min! I hope you enjoyed it! &hearts