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 Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 2:58 pm
Post whenever you like. I'll be posting each of the drabbles in this thread, and then linking the post right here. They're drabbles because I can almost never be bothered to finish a full-length story. None of these are related unless I clearly say that they are.Title literally translates to "I Love You, Me Neither" which is basically unrequited love. I adore tragic and angsty romance.
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 2:59 pm
Lovino wasn't jealous.
No matter what anyone said, he really didn't care how she looked at him with those moony eyes when Lovino was standing right there, or the little pout that covered her lips when he involuntarily insulted that b*****d. He wasn't bothered at all by the fact that when she talked about him, she would get a sparkle in her eyes that he had never seen when she talked about anything or anyone else.
No, he wasn't jealous at all.
And she would never know of the one-sided kisses that he stole after she drifted to sleep, pretending that she was a princess and that he was a prince before he remembered that it was nothing but a terrible, fleeting cliché that would never come true. She would never see how his face heated up when she laughed or hugged him close, would never hear the sound of his heart breaking as she chattered on and on about him.
Sometimes he would stop to think that maybe somewhere along the way, the prince had fallen off of his white horse on his way to save the princess, and the peasant had offered her a view of the world from the back of his old hay wagon.
But every time he hear her giggle at one of his jokes, smile at something he'd done, he felt a swell of hope and couldn't help but think, And now we're so damn close to a happily-ever-after.
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 4:25 pm
I just had to say... I love ur avi and the avi art for it. eek And also... nice tone for your story! smile
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 4:27 pm
LadyEstellaRose I just had to say... I love ur avi and the avi art for it. eek And also... nice tone for your story! smile That's not avatar art. c: I'm cosplaying. And thanks! I think it's one of the more scatter-brained things that I've written. And closer to home than most of my other stuff, too.
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Posted: Mon Feb 28, 2011 7:05 pm
Not related to Happily Ever After in the least, despite using many of the same characters. Don't read if you're homophobic or hate gays.
I don't like this one that much, lolol, even though Netherlands/Spain is my OTP.
Antonio sighed and rested his chin on his arms, which were folded across the table. He tapped his pencil against the fine wood of the surface, doodled on his notes, kicked at the legs of his chair and shifted in his seat.
Lovino gave him an odd look, somewhere between a scowl and confusion, while several other nations looked over in mild interest. It was unlike the Spaniard to be so restless, let alone during a meeting, where his score of naps could rival that of Greece. Belgium, however, just gave him a knowing smile and a wink.
He tried to smile back, swatting curly brown locks out of his eyes with one hand while the other fiddled with a single red tulip under the table.
> >~ * ~< <
Spain nibbled on his lip, and twirled the stem of the tulip between his thumb and forefinger. He was nervous, but it was nearly reassuring knowledge that Belgium was probably peeking suspiciously through one of the windows, maybe with France and Prussia and even Hungary.
Belgium was, after all, the one to blame for this.
She was the one that encouraged him, put (most) of his doubts to rest, and even suggested the tulip. It was genius; the Netherlands was famous for tulips, even going as far as to import thousands to Canada each year in a simple thanks for their liberation in World War II.
Emerald eyes watched the entrance the doors to the expo center in a sort of half-daze, and Antonio nearly jumped out of his skin when he caught sight of the gel-spiked hair and long blue and white scarf.
"Holanda!" he called out eagerly, trying to hide any waver it might have held. "Holanda, wait up!"
The taller country paused his steps, peering over his shoulder with a dark glare. Spain nearly sneezed when the thick stench of marijuana from Holland's pipe invaded his nose, but he was able to fend it off for appearance's sake.
"Here!" he said proudly, offering the tulip. Willem blinked at the crimson flower with a raised brow, before returning his gaze to Antonio's smiling face.
" ...Don't want it," was the curt reply before Netherlands spun on his heel and took heavy steps in the opposite direction.
Antonio stayed in that same position for a moment, arm offering the tulip stretched out and a brilliant smile on his face, before his expression faltered. "Wh-what?"
Spain trotted forward to catch up and put a hand on Willem's arm, but the taller shook it off with a slightly disgusted look. "Said no, Spanjaard. I don't want yer damn flower. Can't ya jus' get it through yer head that I don't like you?"
"O-oh," was the brunette's shaky reply. He let his hand drop, and Netherlands stomped off towards the parking lot. Antonio bit his lip, hard.
He'd been married many times in his years; to Austria, to France, even to England, among others. But he hadn't ever loved any of them. Those marriages were just political. And the one person that he did love hadn't been able to even stand him for nearly six hundred years.
Belgium rushed up ("Antonio, Antonio!") along with France ("Ah, 'e is just sore, mi amigo. Give 'im some time, oui?") Prussia ( "Damn, that was cold!") and Lovino("Well, I almost feel sorry for you, b*****d.") and put her hand on his shoulder, pulling the older nation into a hug.
"Het spijt me, het spijt me zo," she whimpered, latching her arms around the Spaniard. "I really thought... I just... He- you... I'm sorry! I'm such an idiot!"
Antonio gave Francis a pleading look as he hesitantly rubbed the girl's back. Gilbert, on the other hand, clapped the man on the the shoulder.
"Hey!" the albino Prussian crowed. "There's other fish in the sea, ja? You'll get over it in no time!"
Antonio's lips twisted up in a false smile and he gave a nod, agreeing with his friend's lackluster philosophy. Three of his companions seemed to take his answer as satisfactory, and Belgium let go of him to rub at her eyes.
But Lovino could see right through the mask. Antonio was breaking inside.
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