America the Mysterious (United States of America #1.5)

His American Wife (Spain) (Part 2)

A knock came at her door, almost startling America from her work stupor. Shaking herself, she called, "Come in!"

The door opened shortly after, and a man with tan skin, messy dark brown hair, the warmest brown eyes she has known, the beginnings of a mustache and beard, and a tall stature walked in. At the moment, no smile was on his face, but that was to be expected.

America smiled at him weakly. "Hola hermano," she greeted.

"Hola hermana." Mexico stood in front of her desk, not moving to sit down. America then took that moment to stand up and walk over to her older brother, guiding him to the sofa nearby.

He sat down after she did, and all the while he didn't smile, but still America didn't expect it. After all, she had told him what transpired days ago, and this was a subject that hung heavy over them both.

They then sat there in that silence for a few minutes, doing nothing but stare at the floor. Then, with a mute sigh, Mexico looked to her. "You're scared are you?"

America looked at him. "What gave it away?"

"The looks you've been giving me." Sometimes America envied her older brother's ability to see right through her, especially during the most difficult times. Every time she put on a strong face to hide what she was really feeling, Mexico would always know what was really going on behind her mask, and he would never believe a word she says when she tries to tell him that she's fine.

However, she much preferred that her brother be the one to see the vulnerable side of her.

Mexico spoke up once more. "You still have not forgiven him for what he's done, have you?" he asked gently.

America shook her head. "No," she said. "And I don't know if I ever will."

Mexico nodded in understanding. "I have not truly forgiven him either Emilia," he said truthfully. "I know he took care of me and made me into the hombre that I am now, but that does not change the fact that he took me from our madre, someone who had been raising us just fine before they came. He also killed so many of Madre's native people, caused her so much pain, and did not take into consideration that he was hurting people. I can understand your fear Emilia."

America nodded.

"But that's not the only reason you're afraid."

Again, America shook her head. "No, it's not."

Mexico went silent as she continued.

"I know he was never directly cruel to me Diego, but that does not change the fact that he did nothing to stop it. He did not care about me, I know that much, after all why get involved with the "supposed" problems of the world superpower, someone you have never raised, or rather tried to raise?

"I know one thing Diego; despite being under his care, he never truly raised you, did he? Romano was always his top priority, while you and the other countries he conquered came in second. You had to raise yourself, unable to come back to us for good, and you became closer with the countries of Central and South America because of it. All the while, England's top priority was always himself, and France's was Canada. Either way, I always came second to them both."

Mexico stayed silent.

"Was this a mistake Diego?" she asked. "I know this is an arranged marriage, but I don't want to love him. I don't want to love one of the men that caused my family so much pain, that did nothing as one of his own was being harassed for no good reason, and who gave me no reason to care for him. Is that a wrong thing of me to do?"

Mexico said nothing for a moment, but he closed his eyes in thought. Then, after reopening them, he gingerly took America's hand into his own and squeezed gently.