B r u i s e s [spamano a.u.]

b r u i s e s

Romano's clothes clung to him with sweat, when he raised up in his bed. Moon beans streamed into his bedroom window and shone on his white bedsheet. His pale, thick hand raised to his mouth and wiped off the tears. His stomach churned as if it was trying to cave in itself.

He climbed out of his bed and walked over to the mirror on his wall. He snorted in disgust at the sight of his fat body and his ugly face. His heart pounded in his chest. "Ugly," he spat, shaking his head.

Every time he looks in the mirror, Romano hates what he sees. Everything about himself makes him sick to his stomach, and it makes him want to die. His lungs are lit with fire with anger with passion.

He wants to be someone Spain will love. He wants to be with Spain, wants him to tell him he's beautiful. But he knows that's not true. Romano's fat, ugly, gross, hideous, lazy, and for god's sake, he can't help but say whatever he wants and hurts everyone he loves.

And then there's his Spain. His beautiful, beautiful Spain. He knows that he won't allow himself to love him. He deserves better: a pretty girl. Romano isn't pretty. He isn't a girl.

Nothing about him is likeable. The only reason Spain talks to him is because he feels sorry for him.

And the worst part is, he can't tell anyone his feelings. No one cares. No one will listen. There's no one.

And if there is anyone listening, it's just because they have nothing better to do.

"I'm so useless!" he screamed at himself in the night, "I'm not even a good country!"

He cried himself to sleep, most likely the fifteenth time this month.

If only he knew....

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B R U I S E S

[spamano a.u.]

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