Lovino let another stay note ring from his guitar. A small smile crept onto his face. These lazy afternoons were always his favorite; they rarely ever occurred, but when Grandpa didn't need any help in the shop, when no errands needed to be ran, and when Feliciano was off doing whatever was making him happy, Lovino felt like he could finally loose a breath. It was a time to relax and recharge. He savored every second.

Warm sunshine flooded in from a window, and showered the room with light. Lovino almost didn't notice his drooping eyelids. Everything was peaceful for just a moment longer.

Lovino groaned when he heard Feliciano's excited footsteps bounding up the stairs. His younger brother burst in their room, two small jars of paint balanced in one hand, and several brushes in the other.

"Lovino, you will never guess what I found at the market today!" Feliciano beamed. He said this every time he arrived back from the marketplace after being given a little spending money.

Lovino plucked at the string of his guitar, appearing uninterested, "Oh? Could it be more paints? Or new brushes?"

"Lovino how did you know? You are so smart! But see what a pretty color this is- and oh! I almost forgot!" Feliciano quickly set his new paints and brushed down on his desk, then fumbled through his bag for something. Lovino raised a brow, "I went to Kiku's for lunch today, and he let me keep these chopsticks so I could practice at home!"

"Practice?" Lovino said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Feli, chopstick are pretty simple- they don't require much practice."

"Oh really? Can you show me- because I really am having a lot of difficulty and I can't seem to figure out-"

"It's easy," Lovino interrupted. He slid off his bed and snatched the chopsticks out of Feliciano's hand. "You see, you just hold them like- like-" Lovino fumbled with the chopsticks for a moment, furrowing his brow.

"Lovi, it's okay if you can't-"

"No," Lovino bit his lip, "Here we go!" He held the chopsticks loosely, but when he tried to pluck an eraser from Feliciano's desk, his grip failed, and one chopstick flew across the room. Lovino cursed.

"I'll have Kiku show me again," Feliciano said quickly, "Besides, chopsticks are really only used for Asian food and we don't eat much Asian food here so it would probably just be a waste if time to learn how to use them."

Lovino didn't catch a word of that, but he huffed anyway, "Yeah, speaking of food, do you know when Grandpa is going to be home? I need to know when I should start making dinner."

"You're making dinner tonight!" Feliciano grinned, "I love it when you make dinner. Oh, Lovi, you are such a good cook! I don't get why you don't cook every night! What makes tonight so special? Is Antonio coming over?"

"No, I lost a bet," Lovino said plainly, with bite, "And you shouldn't mention it to anyone."

"A bet? What kind of bet? I made this bet with Ludwig once and he won but he said I didn't have to drink a whole bottle of olive oil, because you see, whoever lost the bet had to drink a whole bottle of olive oil, and I wasn't really planning on losing, but Ludwig is so much better than me at cards!" Feliciano managed to say this all in one breath. Sometimes Lovino wondered how his brother managed to breathe at all.

"No, it wasn't a card game. It was on soccer, but that's beside the point-"

"What is the point, Lovino?"

Lovino sighed, "I don't know," He placed his guitar back in its case, and slid it under the bed. "What time did you say Grandpa was getting home?"

"Oh! I don't know!"

"Right," Lovino exhaled, and got to his feet. Feliciano offered an innocent smile. "I can go ask him."

"Can I come with you?" Feliciano asked.

"Fine," Lovino slipped on his shoes, "But no side adventures."

Feliciano practically squealed with excitement. It wasn't like they didn't walk two blocks to Grandpa's "Book and Stationary" shop every morning.

When they entered, Grandpa was just finishing up with a costumer. "Ah, my boys!" He greeted them, "What brings you here on such a pleasant afternoon? Shouldn't you be out flirting or swimming or spending time with your friends?"

Lovino got straight to the point, "I'm making dinner tonight."

"Wonderful," Grandpa smiled, "I hope it's ready by seven, I invited Antonio to swing by then, and promised food."

Lovino crossed his arms, "Antonio? I thought I just had to make a family meal?"

"And isn't Antonio part of our family? Surely it won't be difficult to make enough for one more. We almost always have leftovers, anyway. All you have to do set another place at the table."

Antonio was hardly family. In reality, Lovino had only met him a few times in passing. And every time he met Antonio he always felt strange, as if something about Antonio was different. He often chose to ignore those feelings, but sometimes, when Antonio would smile, his heart would skip a beat.

"This wasn't part of our bet," Lovino said bitterly.

"Than maybe you should think next time before you gamble," Grandpa smirked. He began to dust a book shelf, when the doorbell chimed.

"Ludwig!" Feliciano announced, running to hug him. Ludwig turned red at the embrace.

"Uh-Feli-"

"Perfect!" Grandpa suddenly exclaimed, putting his hands together with a clap, "The more the merrier! Ludwig, why don't you come over for dinner tonight? And you can bring your brother and Aldrich- I haven't seen them in a while. It would be nice to catch up!"

"Son of a-"

"Language," Grandpa scolded, amused. Lovino growled. "And shouldn't you be heading home anyway? You have to start to prepare dinner if it's going to be ready by seven!"

Lovino left, letting the curses under his breath be left to the imagination.

He walked home alone; Feliciano was too occupied with Ludwig to willingly leave anytime soon. Lovino didn't really know what kind of relationship they had, and honestly, he didn't care. But sometimes he would catch glances of- of something and wonder if they were more than friends.

At least Lovino wouldn't have to worry about his brother bothering him while he cooked.

Lovino decided to make pasta, since it was easy, and Feliciano's favorite. He also threw together a salad and seasoned some garlic bread. He pulled out a few bottles of wine and set them on the table.

By the time the table was set, the food was prepared, and Grandpa and Feliciano had returned home, it was time for the guests to arrive.

Antonio filtered in first, then the Beilschmidt family. They all exchanged their "Hello's" and "What have you been up to's." When everyone was settled, and finished with small talk, Lovino served the meal.

It got a good response with the guests, though Grandpa did complain that the spaghetti was a little aldente for his taste.

"Stop bullying the poor boy," Antonio chirped, "He has made us an excellent meal!"

Lovino could feel his cheeks flush from embarrassment. He didn't need Antonio defending him from Grandpa's jokes. He just wanted this dinner party to be over.

"Ah, you're right. I'm sorry, Lovino. Here, have some more wine," Grandpa refilled Lovino's glass, who muttered thanks. Grandpa then continued with a new subject, "So Gilbert, how is your gallery doing? Last I heard you had just sold a piece to a collector for a hefty price."

"The gallery has been getting quite a bit of attention lately," Gilbert bragged, "It seems like every week, new and old clients empty the walls of art, and I have to line up more deals and trades."

"I was just there a couple days ago," Aldrich mentioned, "And I must say, I was impressed with the little business you have got. When you first started it, I was convinced you would go bankrupt in a week."

Gilbert's smile widened, and he took another bite of his garlic bread.

"So what about you, Lovino," Aldrich asked. Lovino had been too occupied by his own thoughts to comprehend this at first.

"Hm?" He said, looking up, mouth full of pasta.

"You are going to graduate from university soon, are you not?"

"Oh, yeah," Lovino mumbled. He used a napkin to wipe his mouth. "I graduate in the fall."

"And what are your plans after that?" Aldrich seemed genuinely curious. Now everyone at the table was focused on Lovino, and he was starting to feel nervous.

"I don't really know," He said slowly. "I think- I think I'm going to try and get a job as an editor. Maybe in a year I'll be able to actually publish something,"

Lovino had been writing for years. It was something he was passionate about, something he loved. He felt he had so much to say, and, through writing, he could communicate it. Lovino wanted to become a professional one day, but would settle for writing articles and essays if it meant getting some momentum in his career.

"Lovino's a really good writer!" Feliciano suddenly mentioned, "I read one of his short stories and it was really good! It was about this girl who went on a boat and fell in love with this sailor. I don't know how it ended because I couldn't finish it because Lovino likes to use really big words, but maybe he could tell me the ending?"

Lovino almost spat out his wine. Sometimes, he was grateful that his brother was dyslexic. He hadn't realized that Feliciano was reading that story when he caught him fumbling through his notebooks. It was a story he wrote for his own pleasure, and it was certainly not intended for anyone else's eyes. And since he was too embarrassed to tell the real ending, he choked, "I haven't finished that one yet."

Antonio sent him a knowing look. Lovino pretended not to notice.

Various conversations continued until the end of dinner. Lovino offered to do the dishes. The rest went off to the family room to sip more wine and engage in even deeper talks.

Lovino didn't mind doing the dishes. It gave him time to clear his head. He was feeling tired anyway, if not a bit sick, and it distracted him.

He didn't notice Antonio leaning against the doorway until he spoke, "Thank you for dinner. It was delicious."

Lovino jumped, dropping a spoon. "Don't scare me like that, idiot!"

Antonio laughed. It was full and deep and honest, and it made Lovino feel ... strange, "I'm sorry."

Lovino sighed, "You're forgiven. And thanks. I guess."

"Do you need help?" He offered, stepping up beside Lovino.

"I'm almost done," Lovino said, but Antonio didn't move. "What do you want? You didn't come back here to make small talk or help with the dishes."

"No, I didn't," Antonio ran a hand through his hair. He almost looked nervous. "I actually came to ask you about something important."

"Oh," Lovino said, trying his best to appear uninterested.

"Yeah, I- uh- I'm moving and I need a flatmate, and I know you're graduating soon. You probably don't want to live at Roma's forever. So- uh- I was wondering if you wanted to be my flatmate." Lovino had never seen Antonio so flustered.

"Sure," Lovino finally said casually. "Where's the apartment?"

"Oh, about that," Was Antonio sweating? "It's, uh, in Madrid."

"Madrid?" Lovino huffed. "Why are you moving to Madrid? And even more importantly, why do you think I would ever move to Madrid?"

"Nevermind," Antonio sighed, "I knew it would be stupid to ask," He turned to leave, but Lovino caught his sleeve.

"Wait," he said more gently, "How much is the rent?"

"A thousand a month, plus utilities," Antonio then added, "It's right in downtown, near shops and nightlife. It's a bargain, really."

Lovino bit his lip, "I'll think about it."

Antonio smiled.