Chapter Text
He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, hazel eyes locked on your tender gaze. Romano told himself many times he did not do tender. He often cited himself as abrasive, or cold, or someone who simply ignored and continued on with life though his heart yearned for something more. Of course, in his ultimate disdain for being seen for everything he was, he met you. You, his favorite human. You, the one person he knew would hurt him more than help him—humans were so fragile, so fleeting in the blip of his long life.
For what it was worth, he'd show you the world and then some if only you said the words.
You smiled up at him, catching his hand with your own. Fingers laced together, you gently squeezed.
“What are you thinking, Lovi?”
He blinked slowly. What was he thinking? Such a stupid, inconsequential question. He should berate you for it, call you out for being so—so… Oh, god, this was it, wasn’t it? The fear he’d always known would find him. He was imagining the future he had waiting for him. The one without you.
He swallowed back his tears, a type of anguish only known to beings like him rippling through his body like a wave crashing into a rocky shore. You were the ocean and he was the precipice, awaiting the moment you would recede and never return to him again. Living in his fear had never been good for him. He knew he was being foolish, holding onto it instead of living in the moment, living with you.
His free hand reached up, gently cupping the side of your face.
“Do you know how much I love you?” he whispered, gentle Italian lilt to his voice (much more subtle now that he’s putting all of his focus on not bawling right in front of you).
Your lips upturned in a bright smile. “Of course I do,” you said. “I love you, too. So much.”
He attempted to smile, but it was little more than a grimace, lips pressed together in that familiar wobble of future despair. You had no idea how much he loved you. That just meant he would spend the rest of your life showing you, even as his face remained the same and yours continued on aging, one wrinkle, one age spot at a time.
Romano knew he would love you until the day Italy fell. He could only hope you would love him until your dying breath.