(Fanfic)The Elektra Complex
Pamagat/Title: The Elektra Complex
Tauhan/Character: Spain, FemPhilippines, A mention of other nations...
Marka/Rating: PG. Somethin's implied, but it's not malicious~!
Babala/Warnings: Umm...sober? Atonement blah. maling akala.
Buod/Preview:
“What’s wrong with you?” A hand smacked the back of his head. His face gave a loud thud against the hard wooden table that seemed to shut up the squabbling nations. Those closest to him gave a concerned look, except for the irked South Italian.
“…Is ever thing all right, Mr. Spain?” A voice said out of nowhere.
“Nnnggh,” He only answered. His lips were slobbering the table’s shiny surface. Now that got everybody worried. What happened to the cheery, sunny Spain?
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Europe. It’s a cold place for him right now. Especially in this Swiss region. But he can’t notice it at the moment. This once great empire is now a mumbling idiot staring stupidly into space with his mouth open, drooling.
“What’s wrong with you?” A hand smacked the back of his head. His face gave a loud thud against the hard wooden table that seemed to shut up the squabbling nations. Those closest to him gave a concerned look, except for the irked South Italian.
“…Is ever thing all right, Mr. Spain?” A voice said out of nowhere.
“Nnnggh,” He only answered. His lips were slobbering the table’s shiny surface. Now that got everybody worried. What happened to the cheery, sunny Spain?
“What happened to you, Antoine?” An alarmed Frenchman gasped.
“Hey, it ain’t my fault,” Another voice mumbled.
“Gilbert! There you go again!” He could hear some feet running and rushing. The door opening and closing with a bang. Echoes of Gilbert and other men chasing him at last dwindled to a halt.
“Seriously, what is wrong with you?” Romano grumbled.
Days ago…
He always thought that she cared for Nueva. And Nueva only. No Papa. She had always refused to give him a beso. And this is the only request he can’t force on her: a simple chaste kiss! that’s all!
Maybe that’s the consequence he got for leaving her always under Nueva’s care. And when he got older he acted as if he really owned her! That ungrateful son of his! And imagine that, he actually revolted! His eyes would look sharper and narrow his eyes in seething anger every time he remembers.
But perhaps it was because he would always overlook her. He would cringe whenever he remembers why he had lost her to that caterpillar-eyebrows for two years! Miguelito was no match even for a few hundreds or thousands of battle-hungry Brits posted in India.
This is his time now. A time for atonement.
He knocked on her big wooden door. The one he had carved centuries ago. She still kept it. She still lived in the house that he built.
Oh shoot! Why did he knocked without thinking first! What would he say? A hello? Hola, Como esta? Oh hell, She forgot her Spanish! What is he thinking!? What took him 333 years to instill in her took Alfred F. Jones only less than 50 years. That pesado! That stupid American swiftly swooped her off her heels right under his nose! His Pearl of the Orient!
A sweat dropped from his brow.
A minute passed and he stood tense like a statue in front of the rundown house with a mix of Spanish-Mexican- Filipino design. With a mailbox posted beside the front gate. Now that’s American. And that Feng Shui mirror on top of her door,is Chinese. A small cabinet placed outside where you have to put your shoes in and wear indoor slippers if you go inside the house, is Japanese.
How many men did she have in her life?
He heard a thud.
“M-Maria?” He stuttered. Thank God he remembered her name!
He heard no answer. His head began to throb madly as his mind played the worst scenarios. What…What if Miguelito was there!? And…And…
He heard something scraping.
Antonio ran the patio’s edge and jumped off the ledge, running to the backyard.
“Maria!” He shouted.
Her yard had been always full of greeneries and trees- mangoes preferably. She’s not much of a fan of his tomatoes, but still adds them to her side dishes. How come she never plants them here?
After brushing off those long reaching branches, he spots a well-toned leg.
He isn’t familiar to that leg. Oh, well, duh. You don’t familiarize people by their legs. He brushes a few more branches off him as he neared the back porch. That was when he noticed that the owner of those gorgeous legs stood on a high stool and that the young lady was hoisting a thick rope on the ceiling.
While sucking on the sticky ice cream Popsicle. A funny thing to do before you kill yourself.
“Maria!” Antonio bellowed. The other nation looked to his direction, shocked but still kept her mouth shut from fear that her good mango ice cream would be wasted. She supported the thick rope with one hand and used the other to take the ice cream from her mouth.
“Mr. Spain?”
He felt a pang in his chest. It hurts for every parent to be not recognized anymore by his child. He decided to let it pass. It could be the formality that England had taught her. Plus, it would be awkward to call someone endearingly when you haven’t been close to them for a long time.
“Don’t-just stay there! I’ll help you down!” He quickly rushed up to assist his daughter.
She has certainly grown into a real beauty, he thought to himself. He marveled the mix of different races that manifested in her. No wonder he regretted letting her go. And no wonder so many had wanted her.
But…what is she wearing?!
“H-Hija!” He suddenly choked once he was right in his senses “What are you wearing!?” His eyes literally scanned her head to toe. He had to shut his mouth to keep his saliva from dripping.
Maria stared at him innocently. Nothing seemed wrong in what she wore: a plain sando and shorts. Okay, maybe the shorts were a bit too short. But who is Antonio Carriedo now to make her do what he wills?
“Uh. Clothes?” She answered
“And Dios Mio!” He looked up and almost tore his hair “Why are you going to kill yourself!”
His daughter blinked once. Twice. When a wide smiled broke in her face. She laughed.
“Ah, I’m not going to kill myself,” She laughed loudly, clutching her sides with an arm while still holding the melting ice cream with her other “I’m just setting up a hammock! Can’t you see?,”
She pointed at the rolled up crocheted cloth lying beside the door.
He felt like a moron. How could he rush things! Now what would she think of him?
He felt tense again when she stopped laughing and just bored her eyes on him.
“I…uh…,” He faltered as he thought of a reason.
“Why are you here, Mr. Spain?” She raised a brow. That, she got from Nueva. That act did not certainly fit his sweet Maria.
“I…just wanted to visit you,” He admitted. It was that simple. He wanted to get away from Europe for a while. And to possible mend and patch up their broken relationship
He prepared himself for an earful of rantings he would get from his daughter that should have gotten more from him. Typical of women.
But then she smiled.
“That's really touching,” She only said. He gave a sigh of relief. How small she is! She really had to tilt her head really high to catch his eyes. She looked like she was holding back to give him a hug or something.
This really feels awkward.
“You really are small,” He suddenly blurted out.
“Well,” She pursed her lips in an irritated manner “I’m a towering 5”2 and a half!” she added sarcastically.
Another awkward silence. He was always good at filling theses spaces with Romano and other people. But why doesn’t it work with her? What happened to his Carriedo charm?!
“Would you like something to drink, Mr. Spain?” She suddenly offered.
“Ah, Si! That would be good!” He over-eagerly said. He wanted to slap himself.
“Follow me,” She gave a smile before placing the ice cream back in her mouth.
The house was still the same, only with added modernizations like the bathroom and the television. He studied the old photos well kept and hanged in the walls while his daughter made juice in the kitchen. She treasured Nueva’s photos. Hers and Nueva’s. They were both smiling, their arm slung on each other’s shoulders. And on the next picture, they were both somber with Antonio smiling in between them.
The next pictures were happier again, because he wasn’t there.
And she had pictures of her giving a beso to America, England, China, Hong Kong, Japan, Portugal (Why is he here!?), Canada, Mexico, and other nations. He wasn’t there.
“Oh, you’ve seen it already,” He heard her say indifferently.
Spain quickly turned his head to see her holding a glass of juice and eating another serving of ice cream in popsicle stick.
“I..erm..”
“Stop lying, it’s bad” She quipped.
He felt another pang in his chest.
“Do you want to see my favorite pictures?” She suddenly said, but still sounding indifferent, but with a hint of eagerness.
He only nodded.
A little while later, he was laughing his ass off with his long-estranged daughter.
“I never knew we had those pictures, hija,” He said in between laughs. He mused over 5 pictures of Nueva caught in the act of picking his nose and 3 pictures of him posing like a Greek god-only with his pants torn.
“Now, that is why I love Nueva” Philippines chuckled rather demurely.
That caught his attention.
“As a stupid kuya!”
He gave a sigh of relief.
It’s cold back in Europe. But the sun is shining bright in her land. God favors her.
“Papa,” She suddenly muttered.
“Yes?,” He turned to face her. Her eyes glimmered as she looked at the bright blue sky ahead of them.
“N-nothing. I just wanted to say it, just to know what it feels like again,” She mused, but still looked indifferent as she started to swing the hammock that they were both in.
He wanted to say and ask a lot of things. Sorry was one of them. But he’s lost for words now that he’s got the chance.
“H-hija, why didn’t you give your papa a beso then?” He suddenly asked. Dios Mio, He thought to himself, Why am I such an ass!?
“Hm? Because I was mad, and jealous at times... That he prefers that bratty, bitchy Romano over me. I didn’t think he deserved anything from me if I can't have him all for myself then,” Maria simply answered, still looking away, slightly embarrassed “Even a meager, kiss on the cheek”
Antonio gawked at her answer.
“ But now. You’re just Mr. Spain to me” She added
“But isn’t Mr. Spain and Papa the same man?” He offered
“Same but different to me,” She leaned back beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and faces inches apart. Antonio felt tense.
“If he’s so different for you, then why don’t you give Mr. Spain then a beso on the cheek?”
“Still no,” She said, tossing the popsicle stick to the waste bin without tearing her eyes from his.
“Eh, but why?” He slowly gained a bit confidence, though forced.
“Because I think papa and Mr. Spain both deserve this,”
She tugged his shirt and pulled him closer to her.
And up until now, he could still taste the Quezo Real ice cream in his mouth
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fin.
What she meant: 'papa' and 'Mr. Spain' is different because it would be socially/morally wrong and kinda incestuous because of the blood-like relations if he's still called 'papa', unlike if it's Mr. Spain. Yes, Philippines is a jealous lover. (feeling naman kayo na! jk.)
I'm still abusing Mexico XC I have a feeling i'd get butchered by Mexicans if they ever see this...
Promise...this will be my...second to the last! I don't have anything against them...it's just that...