A/N: Yes, this is another one of those Lovino is insecure fics… I just love them so much that I had to write one myself! And sorry to the people reading my Harry Potter fic, I'm just not feeling it right now so I'm going to try to get some inspiration then I will for sure put up another chapter! \^.^/ also, I don't have a beta so all my mistakes are my own, and I don't actually speak any of these languages so feel free to correct any of my translations.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of the characters.

~V~P~T~

Romano rested his head against the dark oak wall of his bedroom. He was, once again, wallowing in a pit of self-pity. He crushed the photo in his hand into a ball he brought it up to his face, bringing the lighter he was holding up to the edge, almost immediately lighting it.

He watched the flames dance as they started to consume the edge of the face that you could see through all of the crinkled lines and scratches that was the ball of ruined photo, and the past it held inside were eaten as though by termites. He didn't need to see the photo again. He would always remember every little detail it contained; the way the light hit Antonio's perfect face, the way that joy reflected from the grass green eyes and onto the figure by his side. Or at least one of the figures.

The photo had been taken on a glorious summer day in Spain. It was taken when Romano was young, shortly after he had been taken in by Spain. Italy was visiting with Austria. It was taken a day before the fateful afternoon that he overheard Spain begging Austria to give him his little Ita-chan, offering to trade Romano over in exchange. Romano remembers that day well. He should, after all he thinks about it daily. A daily reminder of how useless, unwanted, and unloved he was.

Flashback

Romano was sitting in a field next to his brother, eating a tomato. His brother kept on trying to hug him and Romano kept on kicking him away, but Italy wasn't going to give up.

"Ve~ Fratello! All you need is a hug and you'll be much happier!"

Romano sneered and shoved his brother away from him, wondering what could possibly be taking Spain so long. Spain had promised to take them both to his tomato patch later, and that he would be with them soon. That had been half an hour ago. Romano's limited patience had run out half an hour ago.

"Where is that Tomato Bastard? He said he would be here half an hour ago! That idiota." Romano stood, carefully holding his half eaten tomato in one hand as he brushed himself off. "I'm gonna go see what is taking that merda testa this long."

"Ve~ okay fratello! I'm going to go play with the tartaruga!" Romano shook his head in disgust, his curl bouncing, as he watched his younger twin frolic off to play with Spain's pet turtle. He turned around and walked up to the house and opened the door.

"Hey! You damn tomato bastard, where are you?" Romano yelled, walking into the empty kitchen and picking up a new tomato off of the table. He wandered through the living room but Spain wasn't there either. Romano figured that since he was talking to Austria, it must be about important nation stuff, whatever that was, so they were probably in Spain's office upstairs.

Climbing the staircase, Romano could almost hear the sounds of their voices, so being the curious little Italian he was, he stopped just outside the door and listened in, opening the door just a crack. The door must have been fairly soundproof, as the once soft voices raised quite dramatically. Austria sounded irritated, in his usual haughty way that always made Romano's blood boil, and Spain was begging? Really? Spain? Romano hadn't thought that the idiota could be anything but happy. He tuned in on what they were saying to try and solve the mystery of the unhappy Spaniard.

"Por favor, Austria! I've laid out several reasonable arguments! Why won't you just let me have the adorable little Ita-chan?"

Romano felt his blood run cold. Italy? His fratello? Spain wanted his fratello? Why? Wasn't Romano enough for Spain? Or maybe he just wanted to collect them both.

"There is no way! I value Italy's art and economy far too much. You shall never be permitted to have him."

"There must be something that I can give you in exchange?" Spain paused, apparently thinking. "Romano."

Romano started, freezing and thinking that he'd been caught, but then Spain continued talking and he realized that that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all.

"I'll give you Romano. That's a good exchange right? One Italy for another."

There was a pregnant pause. Then, Austria, who was sitting on the couch across from Spain's desk burst out laughing, in the most dignified way possible of course.

"You think that that is a fair exchange? You want my Italy, who can cook, clean, produce beautiful art, and has a lovely nature, for your Romano? What can Romano even do? He is unhelpful, unfriendly, and can't even cook or clean to save his life. The only thing he can ever do right is cause trouble for people."

Spain said nothing, and that silence alone was enough to completely break little Roma's heart. He felt some wetness on his fingers and realized that he had squeezed his tomato so hard that it had oozed between his little fingers, but for once in his life, he didn't care about wasting a perfectly good tomato. He was crying silently and as he heard Spain and Austria stand up to leave, he quickly ran for the back door of Spain's house and out into the dark forest. He didn't stop until he was in so deep, the only living things anywhere near him were the forest animals. And maybe France if he was busy creepy him, the pervert.

Romano sat down of a patch of damp leaves and cried. The tears falling from his eyes like miniature waterfalls. He pressed his fists into his eyes so hard that little spots of colour started to appear in his vision.

Damn it!

Damn it all!

Nobody wanted him. He was unwanted. He was unloved. Everyone wanted sweet perfect little Italy. Not the useless lump that was Romano. Rome had chosen Italy. Holy Rome had wanted Italy. And now even Spain, the one country he thought might actually care just a little had wanted Italy, had not wanted him. He was useless, a waste of space. Like Austria had said, he was only causing everyone trouble by being around. Even Italy would be fine without him; he was so loved that the little black spot that was his pathetic twin wouldn't be missed.

He collapsed onto the ground, pressing his eyes even harder. And there, alone on the cold wet ground in the forest was where he made a vow, a vow of loneliness. He vowed that as long as he lived, he would never forget that he was the most unwanted country to ever have lived. The while he was living for his people, no one was living for him, and they never would. He would forever remember.

~V~P~T~

With Italy:

"Ita-Chan! Where is Roma~?" Spain called as he walked up to Italy and caught him in a swinging hug, burying his face in his soft hair.

"Fratello isn't with you? He went to look for you, big brother."

"Hm" Spain frowned. He certainly hadn't seen Romano at all around the house. Then he smiled brightly down at the mini Italian in his arms. "He probably found a tomato and went for a walk! Let's not worry! I'm sure he's fine! Now, let's eat some delicious tomatoes!"

"Ve~ Pomodoro!"

And so the too happy countries walked off, and soon forgot about the small nation that was sobbing in the forest.

But he would never forget.

End flashback.

To be continued…

~V~P~T~

Translations:

Fratello: brother (Italian)

Idiota: Idiot (Italian)

Merda tests: Shit head (Italian)

Tartaruga: Turtle or tortoise or something (Italian)

Por favor: Please (Spanish)

Pomodoro: Tomato (Italian)

A/N: R&R to tell me what you think! I don't know how long it'll take to update, as I have another story on the go, but this one should only be 2-3 chapters long, so its shorter.