Mi Tomate:)

She remembered the first time he had laid eyes on Antonio, peering out through the brush at the intruder with bright, curious eyes. It seemed like stranger people were coming nowadays to her land, and this newcomer was bright with a beaming grin as he directed his countrymen. He seemed almost like the sun, full of fiery vigour and life.



He explored and settled here and there, never seeming to notice the little girl who followed him, clutching the black and purple bunny. Then, more strange people came, and drove out the man with the warm, infectious grin.



When she was France's colony, she'd seen the man again—he had come by, smiling curiously with gentle eyes down at the small burnette child clutching her toy. Vivid and charismatic, each of his movements seemed to be infused with an energy that quiet Jasmine had been drawn in by—so she learned this man was Spain, or Antonio. She hadn't seen him for a while afterwards, for Arthur swept her away from Francis.



She grew older, gained responsibility, and attended meetings.



Jasmine watched people—being so quiet and polite, she had plenty of time to watch. She watched every country, but she watched Antonio most of all. Her eye had always been drawn by that liveliness, by his affectionate demeanour when it came to his former charges and any others around him. At first, the newly free Nation assumed she watched Antonio because she wanted what the man gave so freely to the disgruntled South Italy. Affection, love, attention—Francis had been fleeting with his affections and his stay with her had been short. Arthur had been…Arthur, aloof and serious.



Oh, yes, she'd thought that at first. When weeks changed into months into years, she realised it wasn't like that anymore. Whenever Antonio would throw his arms around one of the Italy brothers, or both, something in Jasmine prickled uncomfortably, prompting her to turn away and look elsewhere. She wanted that attention—any attention from the man. Their countries cooperated, but Jasmine cooperated with many others and most of them didn't even remember who she was. She wasn't like Rose, loud and even obnoxious. Everyone noticed her.



Gradually, Jasmine tried to get closer to Antonio, starting with moving so she could sit across from the man at the table. His gaze always seemed to be focused on someone else, however, someone infinitely more deserving. So Jasmine—a little sadly—had swung her attention to Latin America, in what she could do there, and found herself abruptly jostled into being closer to Antonio. The man had recognised her one day during discussions, face lighting up with a surprised smile.



"You're that little Jasmine, aren't you? France's?" he had asked cheerfully, receiving a a energetic nodding from the Girl. "You've really gotten tall, niña!" So they cooperated and Jasmine followed him and whomever else he had invited to lunch, often receiving annoyed looks until Antonio told them that it was Lundy[1], not her loud sister Rosa. It was nice to be around him, to receive attention, though Jasmine admitted internally that she was greedy and found herself wanting more. More focused attention, just on herself.



She'd been delighted when the Spaniard had come up to her with a beaming smile, extended hand and exclaimed, "Jasmine! Let's make a Chamber of Commerce together!"



That had been a while ago. One day, though, at a world meeting, Jasmine had overheard Antonio chattering excitedly to a grumpy Romano about how he was planting tomates and wouldn't he come and help?



"I'm busy," Romano had told him gruffly, and Jasmine got the feeling he was slightly apologetic for it, despite his demeanour. "You'll have to find someone else."



She'd found Antonio after the meeting, shuffling her feet shyly as the elder man smiled curiously at her. "I-I can help you with planting your to-tomatoes, if you want," she had offered, received a surprised, but pleased, grin.



"Thank you, Jasmine!" he had exclaimed. "Come over, and we'll plant tomates together."



Jasmine awoke to the feeling of movement, a gentle rise and fall. The next thing that occurred was the sound of feet crunching over ground, and an overall feeling of warmth. She sighed a little, not too concerned, turning her head and pressing her cheek against warm, somehow firm, fabric.



'Firm?' She thought sleepily.



"Oh, are you awake, niña?" said a cheery voice. Jasmine's eyes slid open slightly and she peered blearily upwards, blinking. Antonio smiled back at her curiously, his eyebrows raised, and it occurred to the girl immediately that she was being carried easily in the man's arms. Her face flushed slightly with embarrassment—and something else—and she wiggled around slightly.



Antonio just kept walking, however, not making any move to put her down. "You dozed off during our little break," he told her cheerily. "But the tomates are all planted—thank you for helping me with them!"



"I…it was no problem," Jasmine stuttered slightly.



"I'll send you over some nice ones," Antonio promised her with a smile.



"Thanks, Antonio…" She wriggled a little bit, and the Spaniard shifted her in his arms, assuming that she was uncomfortable. "You know, uh…you could put me down…"



"But we're almost back to my house," Antonio said, smiling inquiringly at her before his face lit up with realisation. "Ah, don't worry, niña, you aren't heavy at all."



'That wasn't what I was worried about,' Jasmine thought and bit back a small sigh, mustering up a smile. She supposed she could stand it for a little while; it weren't as though she didn't enjoy being held in the man's arms like this. Twisting her head, she saw Antonio's house and was thoroughly glad the man chose to live in the quiet countryside, by the tomato fields, even if just for the privacy.



"You can stay for supper tonight," Antonio said brightly. "You can sleep over too—your flight leaves in the morning, doesn't it? No use spending money on a hotel." He smiled at Jasmine, who nodded in agreement. The Spanish man hopped up the front steps to his house, setting Jasmine down lightly so that he could open his door. The burnette dusted herself off lightly, gazing at Antonio's back as he stepped inside, waving for Jasmine to follow.



Jasmine stretched out her arms slightly as she followed Antonio through the foyer. The house was small but comfortable, homey more than anything, and she felt immediately relaxed.



"I'll make some supper for us," Antonio said to her with a broad smile, walking towards his kitchen. "You go and rest, niña, you still look tired." Jasmine was tired, but she was also loath to let her host do all the work.



"I can help," She said, looking at him. Antonio shook his head with a smile, touching her shoulder with a gentle hand.



"Rest," he directed sternly, though his expression was kind.



Jasmine wavered for a moment before she nodded a little and wandered into the living room. She sunk down in one of the chairs, listening to Antonio's soft humming as the man bustled about in the kitchen. She let her eyes shut slowly, curling into a ball on the chair.



She was content to just listen to Antonio active in the kitchen, beginning to smell something like tomatoes and assumed that they'd be having a kind of pasta dish for supper. A long time passed like that and she was slipping halfway into a doze when she realised that there weren't any noises coming from the kitchen anymore. She opened one of her eyes sleepily, then the other, looking towards the kitchen. Slowly, Jasmine rose and shuffled toward it.



Peering inside, she blinked in surprise. Antonio had sunk down into a chair facing the oven and his eyes had slid shut. His breathing seemed deep, his chin resting on his chest, hair falling over his forehead. She stared at him before looking over at the oven. There was a timer on the oven, and she assumed that the food wouldn't burn as it would turn off before then. She wandered closer to the Spaniard's sleeping form, gazing at him quietly.



'Ah, that's right,' she thought, 'Antonio got up early to meet me at the airport…then we were working all day. And he carried me here.' She stepped closer to the dozing man, reaching out and brushing her fingers across his dark hair lightly. Antonio kept on breathing deeply. Jasmine frowned thoughtfully, shifting closer.



She leaned over him slightly, watching his closed eyelids intently. Then, she leant down, lightly pecking his lips. As she pulled back, Jasmine looked at his face closely, biting back a sigh as she saw Antonio was still asleep. 'This is probably why Francis can just grope him without him noticing—he's totally oblivious. Or, maybe just too trusting?' Jasmine smiled slightly, quiet and fond, and turned to the oven to wait for the timer.



The least she could do was watch supper for him.

==============--------------------====================--------------------------------------

The bed in Antonio's guest room was heavenly to sleep in, and Jasmine was loath to roll out of it early in the morning, slapping her watch to turn off the alarm. She blearily got up and dressed, gathering her few things together before yawning and stepping out of the room, rubbing her eyes. She'd set up a taxi to pick her up the previous night, so she hoped Antonio could get some rest.



She was surprised, however, to see a sleepy-looking Antonio standing in the hallway, blinking at her drowsily. His hair was rumpled and he was shirtless, obviously just having rolled out of bed. "Niña," he yawned, "I thought I should see you off." He smiled.



Jasmine lifted her hands, feeling guilty. "No, don't be silly, Antonio…I didn't want to wake you up…" She sighed slightly, looking at him apologetically. "I guess I was too loud?"



"No, no," chuckled Antonio, still looking drowsy. "I set my alarm." He stepped forward, towards Jasmine, who struggled to keep her eyes on his face and not stare at his chest (and a very nice chest it was). He yawned again, covering his mouth with one of his palms and blinking slightly.



"Um." Jasmine swallowed, gone a bit pink. "You didn't have to."



"I wanted to," Antonio said and took her backpack for her with one hand.



The elder nation lightly took her hand, and Jasmine fell into step with him as they walked down the hall and the stairs. Watery, early-morning sunlight crept through the curtains in the living room, lighting everything up softly, and Jasmine smiled a little to herself, unconsciously hoping this wouldn't be the last time she'd see such a thing.



"Do you have time for breakfast?" Antonio asked.



Jasmine looked at her wrist. "My taxi is probably already here," She said uncertainly and, peeping out through one of the windows, she saw it parked outside. "Yeah. I'll get something before I get on the plane, so no worries." She smiled.



Antonio looked pensive as he walked with her to the front door, opening it up slowly. Pale sunlight beamed down on the two of them and Jasmine quietly noted to herself how it seemed to make Antonio's eyes glow. "Make sure you have a good breakfast," he told her with a smile.



"I will…thanks for letting me stay here, Antonio."



"No, no." The Spaniard shook his head with a smile. "Thank you for coming and helping me, mi tomate." He shifted suddenly, sliding his hand, palm and fingers rough from work, around to the back of Jasmine's neck. She paused in surprise, being pulled in, her mouth met with a warm one. Unconsciously, her hands moved to grip the man's forearms, fingers curled around them slightly.



When she pulled away, Antonio smiled broadly at Jasmine, who stared dazedly back at him with pink cheeks. "Next time, you'll have to stay longer, sí?" he said, brushing the pad of his thumb over the younger girl's lips with an affectionate chuckle.



"S-sí," Jasmine replied, somewhat dazedly. Antonio smiled at her, the expression fond, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze before pushing her shoulder, encouraging her outside and towards the taxi. "Um, Antonio—!" She turned around, fully prepared to ask how the man had found out.



Antonio just smiled wider and tapped his own lips with a gentle wink. Embarrassed, Jasmine flushed and looked down at her feet—apparently the elder man wasn't as oblivious as she had believed.



Feeling warm from the inside out, Jasmine climbed into the taxi. She peered through the window at Antonio, whose hand was lifted slightly, until he was out of sight.



`---------------------------`Some time Later`-------------------------------------------------`



The hard-working type…Jasmine had to wonder if she had a weakness for that or something.



Because Antonio, standing in front of her, with a white bandanna around his head to keep his hair out of his eyes, sweat dampening his skin slightly and a basket of tomatoes in the bend of one arm, was making her stomach do funny flips and whirls. Her face grew hot and she tried to tear her gaze away (and failed because, hello, those bare arms were pretty nice).



Then again, looking at South Italy in much the same state next to Antonio didn't make her feel anything of the sort, so Jasmine figured it was just the Spaniard.



"Jasmine!" Antonio said, smiling with both pleasure and surprise at her, adjusting the basket to sit better in his arm and against his hip. "I didn't know you were coming here today!"



"Who?" Lovino muttered alongside him.



"I came with Big Brother Alfred—he had some things to do here and I didn't have any particularly urgent business to do at home," Jasmine explained with a small smile, ducking her head. "It's nice to see you again, Antonio." The Spaniard smiled cheerfully and nodded. They hadn't seen each other for a few weeks now, though they'd talked often over telephone.



"Lovi, you remember Jasmine, don't you? Jasmine!" Antonio waved at the burnette and Lovino quirked an eyebrow, unimpressed.



"Hey," he said without any enthusiasm.



"H-hello."



For some reason, Jasmine had an uncomfortable prickling feeling spreading out from where Lovino looked at Her. Maybe it was because the Italian country's eyebrows had furrowed and his eyes had narrowed a bit, his lips pressing together as if to force back a scowl.



"So!" Jasmine burst out, hoping to change the focus of Lovino's irritated stare. Antonio looked at Jasmine, just smiling widely, affectionately. "You're harvesting tomatoes again? They look good." She blinked down at the ripe, bright red tomatoes admiringly.



Antonio smiled at her and nodded firmly. "We were just on our way back home," he said, indicating the stretch of dusty, rural road. Jasmine had decided to go to one of the smaller towns away from Madrid while Alfred had gone to attend to whatever business he had. She had been hoping to run into Antonio, since she'd hadn't had a chance to see him in person for a while. Not since last time, where she'd failed spectacularly at actually confessing her feelings to the elder man and had wanted to remedy it (doing it over the phone just wasn't right, in her opinion). "Do you have to meet your brother?"



Jasmine checked her watch idly. "No, not yet."



Antonio's eyes brightened. "Then, mi tomate," he began cheerfully, "why don't you come with us? I was going to make a good lunch!" Jasmine swayed, tempted, but Lovino's dark stare seemed to grow in strength when he heard the name and the girl floundered and looked away hastily.



"I don't want to intrude," She said, shyly. "Brother might be done soon… He might call me to go meet him sooner."



Looking up, she was struck by the disappointment on Antonio's face and promptly felt like a complete ass. "You wouldn't be intruding," the Spaniard insisted, disappointment relaxing into gentleness, his tone coaxing. He extended his free hand to touch it to Jasmine's shoulder. "Please, come. We'd like that—right, Lovi?"



"Yeah, whatever," the Italian gritted out. Jasmine winced internally.



"See?" Antonio beamed at her, oblivious.



"If…if you insist," Jasmine mumbled at last, ducking her head. The Spaniard laughed and swung his free arm companionably around Jasmine's shoulders, turning her around to face the way the two of them had been headed. "Ah—what?"



"You can walk fine like this, sí?" Antonio asked cheerfully as he walked down the sidewalk, arm snug about his shoulders. Jasmine could feel a stare drilling holes into the back of his head and resisted the urge to turn around and stare right back. "I haven't seen you in a while! Feels like forever!"



"Yeah." Jasmine allowed herself to relax gradually under the weight of his arm. A hand mussed her brown hair gently and she leant back into the warm, calloused palm for an instant before it dropped to her shoulder and squeezed. "How've you been doing?"



"Oh, good, good," was the cheerful reply. "The tomates are good and the sun is warm, so I'm in high spirits!"



The Canadian ducked her head with a smile, Antonio's cheer infectious. The stare on the back of her head felt as though it could catch her hair on fire. 'Wait, he's not jealous, is he?' She wondered internally, but she couldn't think about it anymore as Lovino shoved his way between them, separating Antonio's arm from around her shoulders. Jasmine drifted to the side, a prickle of annoyance rising up in her, and Antonio smiled in bemusement down at the younger country.



"You're walking too damn slow!" Lovino growled, adjusting his basket. "Hurry up already!" He jogged ahead and Antonio laughed.



"Wait up, Lovi!" he called and trotted after him, careful not to drop any tomatoes.



Jasmine lingered behind, watching the two of them, Antonio playfully mussing Lovino's hair when he got close. She blinked slightly, a bit envious, and tucked her hands into her pockets as she plodded sedately after them. 'I won't get a chance to talk to Antonio alone about last time,' She realised. 'But I want to tell him how I feel…'



"Jasmine!" Antonio called, waving his free hand in the air, laughing. "You're too slow! Come on!"



Smiling a little, Jasmine trotted towards the two older countries. 'I hope I get a chance. I don't want to just have to kiss him when he's asleep—or, er, faking sleep—again.'

----------------------------------------===============================------------------------

"You're not thinking about going out with Toni, are you?"



The question came out of nowhere, as Jasmine and Lovino stood at the counter. Antonio had told them he had to run to the store to pick up a few spices and the two lingered, the former cutting vegetables, the latter crushing up tomatoes.



The short girl turned her gaze slowly to the grumpy, elder Italian brother, knife hovering over an onion. "Well…" She began, and trailed off, unable to deny it.



Lovino made another irritated noise from deep in his throat. "You aren't like that shitty France, right? He raised you, didn't he? You aren't a pervert, are you?" he asked, squashing the tomatoes in a way Jasmine thought was particularly ruthless, especially the way the juice sprayed up like blood. She hoped Lovino wasn't imagining her head in place of the tomatoes.



"France raised me for a little while, but then England took me from him," Jasmine said after a pause. She looked down at the vegetables, remembering how upset he'd been at that time, so long ago, before getting back to chopping the onion into small pieces. "I don't know if I'm particularly like either of them…I don't really fit in with the rest of my 'family'."



"Yeah, you're pretty forgettable," Lovino remarked casually. "You're not as noisy as that creepy Rose, either." He paused, scrunched up his nose with annoyance. "Wait, this isn't what I'm trying to get at. If you're planning to go out with Toni—" here he jabbed a finger dripping with tomato juice over at the girl "—I don't want to hear about him being unhappy. You get me? I'm not afraid to kick your ass." He sneered a little bit, chin tilted aggressively.



Jasmine looked at him with surprise—he hadn't been jealous? He'd been…protective. 'Oh god, that's adorable, don't smile, he'll get pissed off, don't smile—'



"What the fuck are you smiling about, bitch?" Lovino snapped, his face turning the same colour as the tomatoes he was crushing up.



'Damn you, facial muscles.'



"N-nothing," Jasmine told him hastily, lifting her hands in placation. She looked back at the vegetables, returning to cutting them with neat movements of the knife. "But, I'd…like to be with Antonio. I really, really love him. I have for a long time." She smiled down at the cutting board, thinking about watching that strange young explorer traipse across her land, curious and interested but never catching sight of the child who'd shadowed him.



A silence dragged on between them and Lovino let out a huffing breath through his nose. "Just don't come to me for advice or think you can complain to me," he grumped.



Jasmine lifted a hand to cover her laugh and nodded. "Deal."



They heard the sound of footsteps and Antonio stepped into the kitchen with a broad, shining smile, holding a plastic bag. He looked elated. "Found everything!" he said cheerfully, setting it down on the table.



"You're too excited about spices, bastard," Lovino scoffed.



After supper, Lovino excused himself, shooting glances down at his cell phone, which had rung during dinner. "I'm going up to my room for a bit," he told Antonio. "Don't bother me." He glared at them both, like he expected them to run into the guest room where he was staying and just bang pots and pans together to interrupt him. That done, he retreated upstairs, grumbling to himself all the way even while he punched in a number to his phone. They heard him greet someone before the door slammed shut.



"Lovi's found someone," Antonio said fondly, his eyes twinkling.



Jasmine smiled and nodded slightly, helping the older country with the dishes. She washed them, handing them over for Antonio to dry. Silence fell between them, broken only by the clinking of dishes and languid birdcall drifting in through the open window.



Eventually, Jasmine got down to the bottom of the sink and turned slightly to tell Antonio they were all done. However, a warm body pressing against her back and arms wrapping around her waist halted any words in her throat. Breath puffed into the side of her neck and her face grew hot as hair tickled her cheek.



"A-Antonio…?" She asked after a few moments.



"You're so cute." The words were muffled against her neck. "You really, really love me?"



The now blushing girl spluttered, her whole body feeling like it had just caught on fire. "Were you eavesdropping?" She said incredulously and she felt the vibration of Antonio's chest against her back as the man laughed into her skin, arms tightening briefly.



"I'm sorry," he said, though he didn't particularly sound it. "I was just curious when I heard you two talking about me so I accidentally listened in…"



Jasmine looked down at the arms around his waist, feeling horribly embarrassed. "I never got a chance to tell you before," She mumbled under her breath, her palms resting against Antonio's arms, lingering suds from the water smudging over her skin. "I mean, I really do…love you…" She swallowed lightly and Antonio squeezed her gently, crooning something softly in Spanish against the curve of her neck.



"I love you as well, mi tomate!" Jasmine found herself spun around, on the receiving end of a fiery kiss, palms cupping her cheeks and fingertips sliding slightly into her hair. Shutting her eyes, Jasmine clasped her damp hands in the back of Antonio's neck, accepting the tongue that brushed along her lower lip and not minding as she was pressed back into the counter, even though it bit into her back—



"Hey! Cut it out!" Lovino roared behind them.



Jasmine spluttered and tried to break away but Antonio only looked over his shoulder with his usual smile, the weight of his body keeping the girl pinned. "Oh, hi, Lovi!" he said brightly. "Are you done your phone call already? I thought you'd be longer."



"They ran out of minutes," Lovino said, frowning, but then scowled fiercely at them (more specifically, at Jasmine). "I said I'll let you date Toni, but you aren't allowed to do anything where I can see it! I don't wanna see that shit!" He glowered fiercely.



"But Lovi," Antonio said with a laugh and nuzzled against Jasmine's cheek, not even minding the Italian fuming in the doorway, "how can I be expected to hold back right now? Can't you go back upstairs and pretend not to listen?"



"NO, YOU BASTARD. CUT IT OUT."