Cuatro

[latomatetas.livejournal.com]

Characters: Spain, open to everyone~
Setting: Floor Thirteenth, the cathedral
Format: I'll adapt to match.
Summary: Spain mourns.
Warnings: TBA

Amongst the murmurs in the cathedral, there is a second sound. A soft, muffled sobbing from one female nation, as she sits hunched over in one of the pews there.

Spain wishes to be alone after what she did earlier, remembering every detail with clarity. The sight of her beloved Romana wasted away to almost nothing after a so-called surgery, and then having to kill her herself, it was all too much for the older nation.

She remembers that the dead are revived the next day, and she had looked everywhere once morning came, but she couldn't find Romana anywhere. Her voice was gone by the second day of searching, and her feet hurt, but she couldn't give up.

Now, on the fourth day, she sits here, on the thirteenth floor, praying for someone to return Romana to her.

Comments

[latomatetas.livejournal.com]

"Oh, you're her male version..." Spain didn't seem at all surprised anymore; after France, Prussia and Romano, she had half expected more from their world.

Smiling, she patted the space beside her, drying her eyes with her sleeve. "Sure, have a seat."

[i-luv-syrup.livejournal.com]

Matt nodded and moved quietly to sit beside her, keeping a small wedge of space between them.

"Sorry if I'm intruding. I just wanted to know if you would like company... things haven't been the best around here lately I know." he said quietly, sitting beside Spain and giving her a tiny smile.

[latomatetas.livejournal.com]

"It is no matter, querido," she quickly reassured him, returning his smile with one of her own. "After a few days of being alone, some company would be welcome."

[i-luv-syrup.livejournal.com]

"Yes...I guess being from Europe you're not often alone." Matt muttered quietly. In a small part of him he had wished he knew what always having company around was like. More often Matt only had his bear to talk to or maybe a moose if it would stop to listen to him. Even in the tower he found himself wandering, looking for people of familiar things, something of home. None of which he had found.

"I know it's an odd thing to ask, but have you seen France? I can't seem to find him anywhere and it worries me after.... what happened recently." Matt's chest felt tight and he refused to believe that France was dead. That whatever had happened had killed him and somehow he had once again abandoned Matt to the mercy of someone else.