Holy shit, guys. I haven't written anything in FOREVER and THIS is the shit I give you? Oh God, oh GOD. This is the most depressing thing I've ever written. (I think, I dunno.)

And OMFG THIS ISN'T NARUSASU WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT.

Yeah, I was surprised, too.

Sorry for all you fans out there who were expecting another NaruSasu/SasuNaru fic from me. I've seriously forgotten how to write them.

HETALIA FICS GALORE, MOST LIKELY.

FUCK I SUCK.


'Til Death Do Us Part

The brunette clutched the smaller boy to his chest- sobbing so loudly that the echoes of his screams could not be heard over the new wails that tore from his lungs. The boy stayed still- getting paler and paler, not speaking…

Not breathing.

Spain clutched tighter than ever before to Romano, listening disconnectedly to the sobs that rent through the air- emitting from his own mouth. The age-old question throbbing like an unhealed wound at the back of his mind-

Why?

Why Romano? Why me? Why us?

South Italy had been growing steadily weaker the past few months- as had Romano- and now it was too late. Spain had done all he could. But it was too late.

Too late.

One last scream of total despair echoed through the cold, cold room. And then there was nothing left. There were no more sobs, screams, wails. All was silent.

The Spaniard's grip did not loosen on Lovino, he simply hugged his deceased love- silent tears trailing down his once jubilant tanned face.

"I'm sorry, Lovi. I'm so sorry…"

Apologies to no one.

Antonio knew very well that Romano could no longer hear him… That he was gone forever… But speaking aloud like this… made it seem less surreal… made it seem like tomorrow, everything would be back to normal. He would be back to making fun of the tomato-red Lovino, and all would be well.

Funny how the memories that used to make him smile cheerily could now only cause him immense and indescribable pain.

Slowly, very slowly, Antonio set the younger boy down. His pale face glowed in the moonlight pooling in from a nearby window- and he almost looked like he was asleep.

Dreams, dreams…

Oh how Antonio wished this could be a nightmare.

Spain smiled fondly, if not sadly, at the boy laid out before him- no longer warm to the touch, ears unhearing, eyes unseeing.

Almost robotically, he began to reach for the gun. Ears, eyes, everything numb. Nothing made sense anymore, nothing felt real.

Nothing, nothing…

The pistol lay a few feet away, thrown by the tanned man only seconds after it was shot.

Romano had been in so much unbearable pain that he had committed suicide. So desperate was he to escape that he had done so right in front of the Spaniard he had claimed to love.

And his love had failed to rescue him.

Icy fingers wrapped around freezing metal.

Promise me.

A nostalgic smile spread on a worn face.

Promise you what?

Antonio placed the gun in his lap and began fingering the trigger.

If I ever get into trouble, you'll… you'll s-save me, bastard!

He stared into the face of his lover, grin faltering slightly.

Oh! Lovi! That just goes without saying!

He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to a white and cold forehead.

L-let go of me, bastard!

He sat back- the smile had vanished.

Lovi, I promise. If I ever lost you, I'd…

He lifted the gun soundlessly, resting the barrel on his own temple.

Well, I'd kill myself!

"I love you."

A single gunshot rent through the freezing night.

Antonio woke up.


FFFFFFFFFFF DON'T KILL ME, NAOMI.

CRAPPILY WRITTEN STORY IS CRAPPILY WRITTEN.

I SHOULD BE WORKING ON NANOWRIMO WTF AM I DOING.

I seriously need to improve my writing skillz. They suck right now.

CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM PLEASEEEEEEEE?