[Spamano] Stop Comparing Me with My Stupid Little Brother, Dammit!

Chapter 1: I Hate It!

(A/N: Rated the book as Mature (after all these years) because of non-stop swearing. Blame Romano. x])

I had enough of this already! Fuck it! Why do these fucking people always need to compare me to my stupid little brother?! Even though we're fucking brothers, we still have our different sides! Why don't they just shut the fucking hell up, damn it!

A simple answer was the only thing Romano could think of. It was because they are brothers. Their memories are connected; they don't have much of that difference as what the Southern part was complaining about. His thoughts continued to roam around in his mind, while his hands were on his pockets. He madly laid himself on Spain's sofa with a thud. His amber hues rolled, telling people how annoyed he was.

"Ah, Romano? Here's your tea—"

"Fuck you, you fucking bastard!"

Spain was started at the sudden reaction of the younger male. He could almost let the cup slip off of his hand; the tea for himself since he put Romano's tea on the wooden table right beside the rugged lad. The Spaniard was used to this attitude of Il Mezzogiorno. He flashed a forced laugh towards the other. "You...don't have to repeat the same words, Romano.."

Silence slightly covered the entire place, until Spain decided open up another topic. "Say," The older male paused for a moment. "What's wrong, Romano? Tell Boss and he'll definitely help you out!" Being Romano's guardian for almost all of his life, and Romano being a handful for him, Spain knew the little male a lot. If there was something bugging him, if there was something he couldn't take care of, if there was something that Romano...shouldn't think of. In these kind of things, Spain's 'unable to read the atmosphere' was temporarily removed. One thing's for sure. Spain knew him a lot. He knew the male more than Veneziano. More than Romano himself. More than anyone else.

Romano's anger subsided, and got his senses back, allowing himself to ruggedly shift his gaze on his left—away from the Spaniard. He didn't mean those words he madly exclaimed. It was just because of his anger—because of how people compare him to Veneziano.

"Well, okay." sighed Spain, which alerted the younger nation a bit. The Italian thought that he was mad, since that sigh sounded like he was peeved. With his former guardian sighed in annoyance was kind of unusual for Romano. He had been with Spain for uncountable years, and for him, it was scary to see him mad. South Italy twitched himself a little to have, at least, a small glimpse of the former pirate. 'W-What..?' echoed in the male's mind.

The older nation carved a smile on his cheerful lips, "If you're ready to tell me about it, I'll listen. I'll just let you think about your problem for a little while, okay?" said the male and petted Romano's head.

"W-Whatever you say, stupid." Whenever Spain gets too nice to him, Romano just loses it—loses his rugged attitude and just be obedient towards his Boss, which Spain calls 'cute'. Immediately, Romano snaps out from his obedience and returns his usual self, which Spain calls 'not cute at all'. He gazed away and pouted.

The older brunet continued petting him while he busily let out a chuckle. "That's not cute at all! You should learn to smile more just like Ita-chan! And when you do that, you'll be really cute!" His words suddenly paused when the young Italian slapped it away from him.

"Don't fucking touch me, damn you!" angrily said the teen, with his amber hues glaring at Spain's vert orbs. "Is that what you all care about?! With me being cute?! Because that fucking Veneziano is better than me?! It's because he's obedient and all?!" His huge anger finally emerged—it was all drawn on his once gentle yet rugged amber frames.

The Spaniard blinked in surprise and confusion. His clear jade eyes wondered what had gotten into his former henchman's mind. "E-Eh? Romano?? What—"

Romano didn't give Spain a chance to finish his questions and ran away from him.

"Romano?!" exclaimed the former Boss in confusion. "Romano, wait for me!"

Searching his huge house, as what Romano used to complain, Spain found no Romano at all. He could have just gone home, or find someone that he could release his anger and stress with. He could have been in...

....the garden.

Ah. How could I forget about the Tomato Garden?

Surprised to see, Romano was silently weeping, while the young one was blankly and madly staring at the newly-harvested red tomato he just picked from the garden.

Fuck him! Fuck them! Fuck... Just... Romano's loud curses in his mind slowly turned into a silence. That silence turned into tears—tears that had fallen from the brim of his eyes down to the loamed ground of the place; tears that he had been holding back for quite long now. South Italy quietly contemplated the said ground and released all of the tears he could release. He was really making a face— a sad one.

Silence continued to conquer the amenity, not until more of his tears fell. His sobs could be heard. "Fuck it..." said the male while he looked at the bright skies of the afternoon.

"Romano?" called Spain, as if he hadn't seen anything. On the other hand, Romano, who was crying, wiped his tears away in a rush and turned away from his boss. With some other nation seeing the obstinate teen like this would certainly turn everything into an issue—which would lead to an embarrassment. Veneziano would be caught for this too—because of, once again, Romano's fault.

"W-What....."

No one knew, but Spain surprised the little one with a hug.

Romano's crying gentle orbs closed a bit, feeling the older one's warm arms wrapped him up. Ah, Spain. He's hugging—for a second, he was alerted on the former pirate's demeanour. ...Wha— "Vaffanculo, bastardo! What do you think you're doing, damn it!" He pushed Spain away, while red tints spread itself throughout Il Mezzogiorno's face. "I told you, didn't I? Don't fucking touch me!"