And We Both Go Down Together

[☆ Y e l l o w ☆]

For Icy <3

We may stay there forever
I'll just try to get up

Morning. He had slept in this morning, which was not unusual. He was in a rotten mood this morning, which was also not unusual. He muttered a curse under his breath and burrowed further underneath the covers of his bed, refusing to open his eyes and face the world. If there was ever a day that he was afraid, a day that he just wanted to hide and not do anything or talk to anybody, today would be the day.

What was unusual about this morning was the absence of a familiar body laying next to him. There were no comforting arms wrapped around him, no familiar scent of the Spanish man he had come to call his lover. Recently there had hardly been a night that the two hadn't spent together, hardly a morning that the Italian had woke up alone. The reality slammed into him hard, and for a moment he just curled up, trying his hardest to fight off another wave of grief like the ones that had assaulted him all night long. He had barely gotten any sleep last night because of what happened, and he was in no hurry to move an inch until he absolutely needed to.

Unfortunately, God was unwilling to give him a break. His stomach growled, and Romano growled at it in response, determined to lay there for at least a few moments more as he tried to remember the last time he ate. Too long ago, most likely. He wouldn't be able to hide for much longer, and he'd have to leave the safety of his room to eat. Dammit, why hadn't he built a stockpile of tomatoes in his room for situations like these...?

Eventually, Romano forced himself up. He dressed, for once paying no attention to his clothing of choice or making sure that his outfit matched. He rubbed at his sore eyes, which were still red and puffy, and straightened his hair. That was the most he could bring himself to do.

As soon as he stepped out of his room he stopped in his tracks, just able to save himself from tripping and falling on his face. He hissed out a swear as he saw that the pile of clothing and other possessions that he had tossed into the hallway last night was still there. Spain's crap had been untouched except for the ring, which Romano guessed the Spaniard had taken with him. Romano was suddenly aware that his ring finger was bare and empty, and he fought the urge to burst into tears right then and there. Damn that bastard for making him cry, damn him for making Romano break up with him in the first place! Did he have nothing better to do than to purposely upset him and piss him off and push him away and then act like some kind of victimized baby after it was all over?!

Spain... where had he slept last night? Romano wondered as his gaze drifted down the hallway and toward the other rooms. Probably with those stupid friends of his, those French and German bastards. Probably off having stupid 'tomato time' with the dickheads. Not worrying about him. Of course he wouldn't be, the asshole had pretty much told him he wanted nothing to do with him last night. What more needed to be said to make him think that it was really true? Even when Romano had broken up with him, yelled in his face and then stormed back into the lodge and leaving him behind in the snow, Spain had made no effort to go after him. That told him all he needed to know.

Feeling deflated and even less willing to move than he had earlier, the Italian slowly made his way to the kitchen. All he had to do was grab some food and hurry back to his room. Avoid everyone; Spain, his little brother, Kit, anybody who might try to talk to him. Then it would be okay. He could stay locked up the entire rest of the trip and then when they left he could go back to Italy...

Thankfully, the lodge seemed rather deserted. Romano wasted no time wondering where the hell everyone was- they were probably all outside in that damned cold anyway- and started to gather as many tomatoes from the cupboards as he could. He wouldn't be able to make pasta from now on, which tore at his heart almost as much as his pathetic situation did, but he shoved that to the back of his mind as he hurried before anyone would see him. Tomatoes would have to do.

And I'm sorry, this wasn't easy
When I asked you believed me,
You never let go
But I let go

Ahem. This thread is based off of the crack rp for the MR group and out of necessity because we have TOO MUCH DAMN ANGSTY MUSE. So enjoy. |D

[Icy]

Mornings. The very thought of morning always made her disgusted. They were always so bright, always beating down on her. It was almost like the solar energy couldn't get enough laughs if someone stared at the middle sized star for more than five seconds. That is, before that poor traumatized victim ran off in the other direction, saying that he or she was going blind.

Now that thought actually made Abri snicker.

Hearing the springs seeming to creak, the now-a-cat Italian turned her attention toward the bottom of the mattress. Well... it seemed as though Lovino was getting up. Though what happened last night, even she wouldn't say a word to him about it. He must have been absolutely depressed, with all that drama and shit...

Would that ever happen between her and Arianna? The light ginger cat blinked a few times, then immediately shook her head. They were twin sisters; they couldn't possibly be lovers, no matter what the others might have wanted. She would never really feel what Romano was feeling. And that was what bothered the agent most of all. She would never gain the burden of being a nation, she would never have the struggles that any of the others had. She was forever a mortal, forever a normal human. Abrienne Acomandata, that is her name, and she had no other. She couldn't be called as a country. Like Italy was also known as Feliciano, Romano was known as Lovino. And Lovino was the name she had to call him.

She would never have the guts to call him as South Italy, or even Romano, for she knew those were the names that the nations called him. Lovino was the only one she could say. It didn't even matter if she called hi Lovi or not, but she couldn't say anything that related to his nation name... Or she would feel inferior to even speak with him. That was what she believed...

A tiny squeak coming from near her belly broke her from her thoughts, a tiny pawing from Ambra telling her to move. To be honest, Abri happily obliged. Slinking out from underneath the mattress on springs, the ginger female feline slinked out to the other side of the nation's resting place, bright emerald eyes casting a sorrowful glance toward Lovino as he began to get ready. Ready for what, however, was what was eating at her.

Keeping her muzzle shut, she only watched, curiosity burning a hole in her heart. Was he going to apologize to Spain..? No, that wasn't him. And they broke up last night... everything was wrong. He really... needs to be cheered up. she thought, tail flicking in a few directions. Right when Lovino had headed out the door was when she made her move.

Delicate pawsteps, careful enough to stay at least several feet behind the Italian nation, crossed the lodge's floor, she half-hoped that this effect was going to wear off. Well.. sooner or later, she hoped so. Whiskers twitching, her gaze kept on her target... or, her client. She couldn't allow something like this bring down the father of her kittens nation of the Mafia!

Though when he stopped at the kitchen for what seemed like five seconds, he hurried back into his room. Wait, what was he doing? Getting food? Puzzled by this action, Abri made a break for it, sliding into the door before it had a chance to shut.

So it was food... tomatoes at that. If she was human at this point, she would probably face-palm. Yet she couldn't do that right now. Instead, she hoped that she could help him out of this... and possibly help herself.

"....Mew." She squeaked softly, hoping that Lovi would see her... well she hoped anyways.

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[☆ Y e l l o w ☆]

It wasn't very long until Romano had gathered a considerable pile of tomatoes on the kitchen counter. All kinds of sizes and shapes and types, but each individually approved by the Italian to be good and edible. He had a limited supply of tomatoes, and Romano once again cursed this damned ski lodge where it was too cold to grow anything, especially not tomatoes. Maybe he could use the fact that he ran out of tomatoes as an excuse to get the hell out of here. Yeah, that was definitely a good idea. Satisfied that he had come up with a plan for escape from this hellhole, Romano put all of the tomatoes into a large sized bowl and hurried off toward his room once again.

About halfway there, he realized once again just how quiet the place was. Okay, really, where the hell was everyone? He thought that he would have run into somebody by now, either one of the agents or nations or children. But there was no one. Not that he was disappointed or anything, he was freaking grateful! There was no one to stop and question him or annoy him! A-and he definitely wasn't sad that he hadn't seen Spain at all!

What would he do if the Spanish nation showed up? What would Spain do? The bastard would probably just look away and go silent, getting that pitiful look on his face that was supposed to make Romano feel sorry for him or something. Or make him feel guilty. Romano himself? He would probably end up glaring at the backstabbing jackass, spitting out a string of half-assed insults in an effort to cover up the painful hole in his heart that was quickly starting to spread.

In reality, he would just want to run and hug the stupid jerk, but he would never admit that even to himself.

Deciding not to push his luck, Romano hurried back to his room before he encountered anyone else and closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it as well. Safe now, he felt slightly relieved and moved to put the bowl of tomatoes on the nightstand, then took one for himself and bit into it hungrily. Sweet, delicious food... how the hell would he ever survive without these amazing-

'...Mew.'

What was that?! For a moment Romano froze, wondering what the hell had just made that noise and was in his room. Maybe one of Greece's ferocious cats who was here to attack him and steal his tomatoes- oh. It was Abri. His eyes landed on the form of the ginger queen, having long ago recognized that specific cat as the new appearance of his agent. From somewhere under the bed, he heard the tiny squeals of Ambra and Luciano, their kittens. Yes, theirs.... that damned pixie dust. The same dust that had turned Romano into a cat as well, and Spain into a fish and then afterwards into that horrible... monster of his past...

He preferred not to think of any effects the dust had on him or his friends. It usually either pissed him off or made him depressed.

"Oh. Ciao, Abri," Romano greeted her, suddenly self-conscious. Had she been in the room all night long? Had heard him talk with Spain last night, heard him cry pretty much all night long? Oh God, that was embarrassing. Scowling a bit and looking away, Romano bit off a piece of the tomato and bent down to offer it to Abri. "You hungry?" he simply asked, too emotionally spent to say much else.

[Icy]

She wasn't sure whether or not her client had frozen because of her, or something else, though she really didn't mind. It didn't bother her one bit. What really bothered her was the quietness of the lodge, and no one bothering her, specifically Anna. She never seemed to leave Abri alone, though these past few months it seemed like.. they were drifting away. Not that she cared one way or another, though it got to her. Just a bit.

She even wondered if her sister even knew that she was a cat. The chances that she did were slim. Yet she couldn't be ignoring her sister... could she? Abri felt herself tense up at the thought, though she quickly shook it off. No need to be worrying about something that wasn't important.

Lovino was more important to her right now. She had to make sure that her client was all right, and not upset at this small misfortune.

Well, she considered it small, since it didn't really effect her. Though it could have been large to Romano, and she had to accept that. That look that she gave the nation was one of sorrow, and she thought for a second that he might not have heard her. Yet before she could try again, his voice seemed muttered in her ears. Though it was muffled, she could still pick up the tone.

Depressed.

'Oh. Ciao, Abri.'

If cats could frown, then that was what she would be doing right now. It was obvious that he wasn't over this. And would he ever be? Even she didn't know of the answer; there might not have been any hope in recovery.

Though she had to try.

When he had offered the small bit of tomato, however, she shook her head twice. She wasn't interested in food; she was interested in trying to help him get out of this blue phase.

Bunching up her flank's muscles, she gave a small leap to the top of the mattress, the sheets seeming quite wrinkled. Ack, don't waste time worrying about that. A few more steps toward him she went, though stopping for a second. She would probably wait a second before getting too close to him. He was most likely still emotional after last night.

What she really wanted to say, if she could, was it's all right Lovi. You can get through this, I know you can. Though how could she say that, when she was a fucking cat? So, she just hoped that she would get her message across.... no matter what. She felt her gaze staring at the sheets, though in an instant, her eyes were directed toward Lovino.

Lovi you can get through this. I know you can...

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[☆ Y e l l o w ☆]

Romano hadn't been smiling before, although he hadn't been frowning either. The look on his face was one of dejectedness, and of distance. He wasn't all there, his thoughts wandering as much as he tried to prevent them, and there was little hint of emotion on his face, if any at all. However, if he had been happy, if he had been smiling for some odd reason, that smile would have disappeared the moment Abri refused the tomato. That was something he did not expect, and the surprise of her declining the food sent him into an even deeper whirl of confusion. Abri was Italian like him, and he knew she liked tomatoes, even if she was a cat... all Italians liked tomatoes... so why didn't she want one now?

Romano didn't frown, and he didn't scowl out of anger. He simply watched Abri, not taking his eyes off her as she shook her head and turned down the offer of food. What was she thinking, he wondered? She couldn't not be hungry; as far as he could remember, she hadn't eaten for a while either.

He watched as Abri turned away and, instead of padding back underneath the bed to check on her kittens like he expected her to, she leaped onto his bed. Her eyes were trained on him just as his watched her, and the southern nation found himself unable to look away. For most of his life he'd never liked cats, never understood them like his brother Greece did, but he could have sworn that he saw real emotion behind those eyes. Like she were really trying to talk to him.

'Lovi you can get through this. I know you can...'

'I know, I know,' he found himself replying mentally. 'I'm fine, Abri, you don't have to worry about me...'

He knew that she knew what happened. She must have heard last night, or else she wouldn't be acting so different this morning. He wanted so badly to tell her that he was just freaking fine, and that this breakup had no effect on him at all, and that he was fucking glad to be free of the stupid tomato bastard. That's what he was telling himself now, willing to be true deep down. It would be so much simpler if that was the case.

Romano stepped closer to the bed, moving over a bit to give Abri some room, and sat down next to her. If this was a moment of weakness, then so be it. He had never been comfortable showing weakness to anybody, especially not Spain, but this was different. Abri was different. He knew she wouldn't tell anyone, and so he let himself sigh and stare down at the tomato in his lap as if his favorite food could help fix the emotional mess he was in.

"What are you trying to tell me, huh? That he's a bastard and I'm just a stupid loser for even thinking about him?" He said, managing a small chuckle.