Spain x Reader: Rejection

Here she is.

Here is another girl confessing her love to Antonio Fernández Carriedo, who is just about your best friend. And it probably doesn't help that he is, like, one of the most popular guys in school, and it's probably because of how he is Spanish, how optimistic he is, and how he happens to have just about the cutest butt out of all the guys in the whole entire school.

Yep. That last reason is definitely a reason.

And the poor girl is probably going to get rejected…but she is going to cry for about two days and then return to say that it's okay, she understands. And she hopes to at least be friends.

And he'll smile and say yes.

Happens every time.

"H-hey, Antonio?" she asks softly, holding her hands gently. She is about three shades darker than the tomato Antonio holds in his hand, the one only seconds ago, he was about to eat. And then she interrupted his daily practice. "Antonio, you should know that I…I love you!" She holds out a brown paper bag from the market; inside are an assortment of tomatoes of all sizes. "I…I know that I am n-not good enough for you, b-but you need to know! And I'm not asking to be your girlfriend! I could only dream of that! B-but…I want you to consider at least one date. J-just…one. Please."

He looks at you.

You shrug, though you want him to say no. As horrible as it sounds, you enjoy having him reject these girls. This means that you're one step closer to having him all to yourself.

Besides, your parents are coming for dinner tonight. You live with your grandmother, and this is the first year that your parents are going to meet your best friend. They're insanely excited, especially because your mother has seen was he looks like and says he looks extremely cute. ( DAT ASS? c; )

"Yes," he says, and you feel like throwing a brick at someone's head.

Yes?! Maybe his head hurts and he isn't thinking straight, and he thinks "yes" means "nunca en toda mi vida"! Besides, he knows that today is a special night anyway! You rarely see your parents, and…and…

But he smiles at her and accepts her gift.

So, he isn't confusing anything. He legitimately wants to go on a date with this chick.

He must've forgotten about how special today really is.

She seems just as shocked as you do. "R-really? When? Tonight? W-what time?"

"Around six? Do you like Italian?"

"I love it! I'll be ready!" She scribbles down her address for him before nearly skipping away, nearly breaking out into song about how much she's happy.

Your head connects with the table.  This isn't happening.

"Aren't you happy for me, querida?" Antonio asks you.

"I didn't think you'd say yes to her."

"Is that a problem?"

"Well, yes," you admit as you stand. "We already had plans for tonight, remember? My parents are visiting."

"I thought that was tomorrow…" he says, looking at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"Whatever," you say, and you can't help but sound slightly spiteful. "I only get to see them once a year since they're always travelling, and they were excited to meet you. But I guess going on a date with a girl is so much more important than that."

He has lost any bubbliness as he stands. "(N)-(name), querida, I swear I forgot. No te enojes… I can tell her I can't make it today."

But it's more than just missing your parents that angers you, though you're not exactly sure what it is. "Don't worry, Antonio. Don't come. I wouldn't want you to break another girl's heart."

"But (Name)…"

"Don't come," you say softly. "Really. You already promised her. My parents won't mind. They can meet you next year." You try to smile, but you're sure he can see right through you. "I need to go to the library to check something out. Meet you later?"

He nods slightly.

And so you step away, feeling completely foolish and childish…

Of course, when you said that you didn't want him to break another girl's heart, you meant yourself. You confessed to him about a year ago, and he completely shot you down, just like every other girl. But you did the same thing they all did…asked to be his friend.

And his friend you did become.

You're his best friend now.

You're completely over him now, at least romance wise.

But then why does your chest hurt so much?

***

You are wearing your absolute best dress, and you're 100% clean with your nails (fingers and toes) trimmed and painted, wearing a light amount of make-up. Your hair is up in a pretty hairdo, and you're even wearing heels. Your legs are completely shaven clean, and they're moisturized and everything. You want to look your absolute best for your parents.

You helped your grandmother earlier prepare all the dishes. Your parents are always travelling due to their job, so these rare moments you spend with them are rather important. They'll be leaving tomorrow at noon, and this dinner needs to be the best. Besides tomorrow morning, this is the only time you'll spend with them all year. So this needs to be perfect. You've even cleaned all the rooms.

They seem genuinely happy to see you again, holding you tightly and whispering things about how much you've grown up.

And then your mother asks the fatal question: "Where's Antonio?"

"Yes!" your father says with a bright smile. "I'd love to meet the young man you speak so fondly off."

Your smile falters only for a second, and it is only your grandmother who notices. "He apologizes for not being able to make it. He's really busy, and he was looking so forward to this…"

He really was looking forward to it. Since you informed him of your parents' request to meet him about a month ago, he had begun to fuss over it an immense amount. He asked about all the things that they liked, and he even reviewed outfits with you and gifts to bring. He made a big deal out of it.

And he stopped this week…which made you feel strange since your parents was pretty much something you had grown accustom to talking about this month. But you didn't voice your concern. You didn't want to make it seem like you only thought about yourself or anything like that…

"Oh, that's terrible. Will we be able to see him tomorr—"

Your mother is cut off by a knock at the door. Your father turns around and opens it, revealing a dressed-up Antonio with a bouquet of carnations. He hands the flowers to your mother, gently taking her hand and kissing it lightly.

"Pleased to meet you, señora," he murmurs before pulling back. "I've heard many wonderful things about you."

"And you, sir," he suddenly turns to your father, firmly shaking his hand. "Forgive me for my tardiness. I was hoping to arrive before you. It is a pleasure to meet you, both of you. (Name) speaks so fondly about the both of you."

Both of your parents beam at each other.

"And you, Antonio." My mother gives him one of her rare, dazzling smiles. "She says the sweetest things about you. I am beginning to see why."

A light coating of pink dusts his cheeks and he says, "Oh? Thank you."

"Come, let's sit down for dinner first," you quickly say, though you're furious as hell. How dare he suddenly show up? Didn't you tell him not to?

You mostly sit through dinner in silence; your parents love asking Antonio questions about himself, about you, and about the two of you. It irks you, but you try not to show it. When they do acknowledge your presence, you try to be as bubbly as possible and answer them, but you quickly slip back into your grumpy mood when they turn away.

"So, you two are just friends, right?" your father asks, pointing a fork between Antonio and you.  "Nothing…more?"

Your face heats up, and you glance down at your plate.

Antonio laughs. "Yes, sir. Besides, even if I did like your daughter in that way, she'd never like me back. I'm not good enough for her."

You want to throw your fork at him.

Not good enough for you? Is that his excuse? He rejects you, randomly decides to choose a girl because she presented him with some tomatoes, and suddenly, he says he isn't good enough for you? Is that supposed to be funny?!

Your father heartily laughs as well. "Well, you certainly seem good for her. She mentions you often, maybe more than anyone else. But if that is the case, I do wonder…surely, you are confessed to by many girls, no?"

Antonio then turns red, and he nods. "Ah…si."

"I bet the girls simply dawn over you!" your mother adds. "How many of them have you said yes to?"

"None, ma'am."

Well, except for one, you want to add, but you keep yourself from saying anything bitter by shoving some more food into your mouth.

"None?" Your father seems surprised.

"Why?" your mother asks.

"Well, you see, I'm already in love with someone," he admits.

Your ears perk up, and Antonio notices your sudden attention.

"But I'm not good enough for her. She has already rejected me."

It's hard to imagine anyone rejecting this lovable, tomato-sucking bastard. He is so endearingly cute and optimistic, you just want to hug him, and yes, he has an amazing butt. Absolutely.

"How terrible!" your mother coos.

And onto the next subject…

***

After dinner, you volunteer to wash the dishes. Antonio offers to help, and you accept it only to not make a scandal out of yourself in front of your parents. Your grandmother throws you a concerned look, knowing quite well what's going on, but she offers to show your parents the garden out back; it's grown marvelously since they last came here, and it is twenty times beautiful than they last saw.

But you don't say a word to Antonio as you wash the dishes.

"Your parents are so nice!" he offers, his light, Spanish accent making the sentence sounds funny.

You suppress your laughter. You're too mad at him.

"Querida, why are you so mad?" he asks you, and he grabs you by the arm, pulling you away from the sink.

"I thought I told you not to come!" you blurt out bitterly.

He stares at you, taking your words in. "B-but…shouldn't you be happy? It was for your parents…"

"And what about the girl?" you ask all of a sudden. "Did you leave her stranded? Break her heart?" You push him against the chest, sending him a few steps back. "You're such an idiot, Antonio! I told you to go on the date with her!"

"But why?"

"Because you said yes to her. My parents…you could've met them next year. But trust me, when you do that to a girl, treat her like that…she can hate you forever for that, even if it doesn't seem like it."

"But she told me to come!" he protests.

You freeze, furrowing your eyebrows. "What?"

"Well, I did what you told me because I didn't want you to be mad, but querida, honestly, I couldn't stop thinking about how I messed this up with you. So, she told me I had to come here. Dijo que yo tenia que hacer esto. So I came."

You stare at him and then shake your head. "Then you better make it up to her."

Then you finish washing the dishes and head outside.

***

Saturday morning is spent with your parents, and you do all the things you normally do, even showing your parents all your new, favorite places.

You go with them to the airport and stay until their plane takes off, and then you drive back home.

This weekend is so lonely. You hate being mad at Antonio.

Monday finally comes.

He is waiting for you, standing in front of your parking spot, and you nearly run him over trying to park. He has a carnation in his hand, and he looks pretty dressy today but casual-dressy.

"What are you doing?" you demand, but you don't really sound mad. You sound worried.

"Uh, well, I know you're mad, querida, but…" He holds out the carnation.

A few girls are watching, and they squeal. They think this little action is adorable.

You accept the flower, though you're not quite sure why he is handing flowers out to you.

He seems nervous, one of the only times you've ever seen him nervous, and he takes your hand gently. "Please accept another gift as well…" he whispers before tugging on your hand and pulling you towards him.

And then his lips are on yours. He tastes sweet, and he is absolutely careful with you, as if you're some delicate flower he needs to protect. Honestly, your mind is spinning in every direction, stopping for a few seconds only to completely restart the confusion and absolute sensation of bliss.

But you push him away, breaking the delicious kiss, and you stare stupidly at him.

"What was that for?"

"(Name)…te amo," he murmurs to you, taking your hand and kissing the tips.

"No,…you don't."

He drops your hand, staring at you. "…what?"

"You said you were in love with a girl who rejected you. I've never rejected you. You rejected me. And that whole 'not good enough' crap? What is that?"

One of the girls watching comments on how if this was a romantic movie, you'd totally never do that.

Yeah, well, this isn't that, so you're allowed to do this!

"Si…you did, querida," he tells you with a nod. "About three months ago. Don't you remember? I asked you if you'd ever go out with me, and you said you wouldn't because we're just friends."

"What are you talking about?" you protest. "I don't remember ever saying that! Besides, even if I did, we are just friends. You rejected me, and now we're friends, and now you're just complicating things!"

"¿Que?" he asks, and he is so insanely adorable like that, with wide, emerald eyes and a confused, little pout.

"Oh, just kiss me again!" you cry out in frustration before grabbing him by the collar and pressing your lips against his.

The girls watching explode into cheers, and you both pull back, staring at them.

"Yo," you call out with a bit of an irritated tone. "This isn't reality TV. Scram." But you don't check to see if they leave. You simply kiss him again.

And his arms go around your waist, holding you ever so close to his body.

And you have to admit it…you simply couldn't resist; your hands brushed his butt.

God, he has such perfectly sculptured buttocks. ♥

But when you guys pull back, you look into his eyes and ask, "So, what about that girl?"

His turns redder than any tomato and says, "Oh, her? I asked her to come in and ask me out just to see if you'd get jealous."

THAT ASS. D:<