Hetalia: Untitled
Antonio stood in front of her door, his eyes soft and he felt weak. Alfred won-again. That idiot will gloat-again... on how he is the hero-again. Three hundred years he was married to her; three hundred years of joy, three hundred years of pain…and everything went down the drain. He knew he had hurt her, but there were times he could hear her people wanting to be with him and his country; while others were sick and tired of his reign. He knocked softly to the door of her house, whose architecture was so similar to his. He felt so at home with Mutia-whom he named Maria-to make her sound Christian. He can’t face her like this; the once proud and powerful Spanish empire was crushed by America’s cannons and guns.
The door creaked open. She was standing there dressed in a Maria Clara outfit that made her even more beautiful. Antonio’s jaw was hanging, in awe of his… former wife’s beauty and shyly averted his eyes from her gaze. Mutia blushed seeing him again, her eyes too, averted. There was a minute or two of silence between the two of them.
“I guess,” Antonio began. He cannot say the next word. It was so difficult. He had loved her so. He was protecting her. He wanted to be with her forever and ever, that is why he became so fickle. “Goodbye.”
Mutia’s eyes closed. When Antonio said the last word, she bit her lip and chewed it. It was difficult for her as well. Sometimes she couldn’t take him, sometimes she does. But, along came Alfred who “saved” the day. “I guess.” Mutia whispered.
It was awkward…their conversation. A deafening silence again strained the two nations. “Where’s Alfred?” Antonio asked.
“Sleeping.” Mutia said. “I’ll be making him breakfast soon. And I am not quite sure what to make him.”
He laughed softly. The girl’s heart softly melted, will she ever hear him laugh again? Will she ever stare at those green eyes that seemed so gentle? Will she ever see him again… after Alfred broke the news that he is now taking over her house?
“You’re still silly as ever, Maria.” He said, smiling.
She smiled back to him. Antonio scratched the back of his neck and said, “I apologize.” He said, “I know it’s too late… I’ve killed so many of your people…and-“ A finger stopped him for babbling on. “You loved me,” Mutia said. “I know and you cared too much… even to the point it hurts.”
“I still appreciate you, Antonio.” Mutia said thankfully. “For everything you taught and given me.” A parting kiss was the last gift she ever gave him. “And I’ll cherish them… forever.” Mutia said, “Goodbye, Antonio. And I wish you well.” She said, closing the door. Mutia tried to hide the scars that Alfred had already given her. She succumbed and cried when she heard Antonio’s steps fading in the distance and moments later, she heard a gunshot.
There was another war on her shores.