A lil' Spamano oneshot intended to cheer a friend up when her team lost today. ; v ; She demanded that I post this, so here we are~
Enjoy!
xXxXx
Antonio's knuckles tightened around the railing that lined the spectator's box.
Lovino looked at him, his arms stiffly folded.
The Italian had known that as soon as the clock reached eighty nine minutes, it was over. For the team of Spain, this football match was to prove their downfall.
Antonio's features had indicated that he believed otherwise.
Eighty nine minutes and twenty one seconds.
Eighty nine minutes and thirty six seconds.
Eighty nine minutes and fourty seconds.
Antonio had pat Lovino's hand as the clock continued mercilessly; he donned a hopeful smile. "Anything can happen, it isn't too late!"
Lovino could see easily past the jovial mask Antonio plastered onto his features. The anxiety flashing behind the Spaniard's verdant gaze was something Lovino could hardly stand to look at.
And then the final whistle had shrieked, ringing out triumphantly over the stadium and its spectators.
The stadium erupted into cheers.
Those who had been rooting for Chile now crashed chests together, tossed their drinks skyward and released bellows of glee. White, blue, and red danced across the stadium in an animate miasma of uniforms, flags, and paint. A few of the football players from Chile below waved and cried out jovially before slipping into the depths of the stadium, arm in arm with their teammates.
The crowd before Antonio and Lovino, mostly Spaniards, were releasing uneasy murmurs about themselves. A few allowed their flags to fall from their hands, crestfallen, as they hugged one another.
Lovino sharply observed every inch of Antonio's face; he evidentially noticed this crestfallen demeanor as well.
Despite this, Antonio still wore a smile, his forehead beaded with sweat and eyebrows knit as he licked his lips and replied, "Hey, anything can happen! It isn't over yet! We still have a match against Australia!"
Grief gnawed at Lovino's belly but he made no attempt to speak. Even if they beat Australia, Lovino knew the fate of Antonio's team.
"... You're about to cry."
Antonio placed his hands on his hips and let out a faltering laugh. "No! No, I'm just a bit worked up; after all, that was an intense game! They all did their best!" The mask slipped as he spoke, his eyes glistening and lips twitching into a horrible contortion between a smile and a grimace.
Lovino's heart wrenched. He glowered at the taller nation and mutely grabbed his wrist, yanking him away from the sight of his own people and herding him towards the exit.
"Lovi, Lovi, I'm fine!" Antonio's voice was far too happy to be sincere, which angered Lovino. He was not to be deterred. "I'm fine, we don't need to leave!"
"Shut up, you're--!" Lovino closed his mouth. It was hard to bring himself to insult Antonio when his expression all but screamed out his sorrow. "Just... shut up."
With an incoherent mumble of submission, Antonio offered no further resistance as Lovino continued tugging him down the hall, flashing an I.D. card where required and advancing along the location signs towards the bathroom.
The farther they got from the stadium, the quieter it got. Lovino wasn't sure if the silence would allow Antonio to not think about the loss or prove just the space needed for Antonio to brood over it.
