"You fuckin' bastard!" Lovino screamed as he ran out of the house, leaving a stunned Gilbert to stand frozen in the doorway to the kitchen. As he calmed down and walked the cold streets of Berlin, winter snow began to fall steadily.

Fuck, he thought angrily, just what I needed... As he walked on he began to get colder, and the night later. Soon it was the hour drunks were leaving the bar with their strippers and creepers lurked in the dark shadows of the alleyway.

Lovino walked on stubbornly, damn it…..now I'm fucking lost. All thanks to that damn Prussian bastard. I'll fucking kill him! The small male slid down a wall and curled his knees to his chin, choking back a sob, "Damn bastard….why…."

God knew how long he had been sitting there, the tear tracks on his cheeks were frozen, as was the rest of him. "F-fuck…" He shivered, shaking the snow that was still piling up on his head off. He stood up and dusted off the snow that clung to his now soaked clothes.

Lovino tried to take a step forward, but his legs gave way and he fell forward, face planting into the cold fluffy ground. "God fuckin' damn it! Stupid fuckin' snow bastard! Go to hell!" He growled, frustrated. He placed his hands on the ground and tried to push himself up, only to slip and fall back onto the ground. "Shit…" The Italian hissed.

He was attempting to stand for the third time when a rough hand grabbed him and yanked him up. He looked into cold purple eyes that had the only image of evil in them. "L-let go of me bastard!" He yelled, hoping someone would hear and rescue him.

"And why would I do that?" He said, his voice soft and Russian accented, a sick grin on his face.

Lovino started to squirm a bit, this guy isn't kidding…I'm gonna get seriously killed if someone doesn't come! God damn it! Where the fuck are you Gilbert! Please come….. As if this Russian sensed Lovino's discomfort, he started laughing and pushed him against a wall in an alley.

The Italian started to panic at that point, realizing what was coming up, No! I don't want this to happen! Not to me! Where are you!? I need you!

The man chortled and started to slip the smaller one's shirt of, eyeing his tanned skin hungrily. He then crashed pale lips upon tan ones, ravenously devouring him. Romano was still, frozen both from shock and the cold. All he could think was No, not me…..it can't be happening to me…Gil is always here to protect me.

Lovino shivered, the cold biting at his now bare upper body. The Russian started slowly moving downward while undoing his own pants. Lovi then felt the tears come, he couldn't help them. He didn't want this to happen. Yet he was too fucking weak to stop it. The Russian shoved his cold body to his knees and shoved his full length inside of his mouth. "You know what to do."

Lovi was shocked, How did this man know!? He stayed still, then a pipe came up and struck his abdomen. Hard. Shocked, he tried to pull away, but the strong hand held him there and smashed the pipe to his head. "Now."

When he was about to begin the horrible duty, he felt the evil presence leave and the intrusion in his mouth was gone. Lovino sank lower to the ground, shaking and crying and holding his injured middle and head.

He heard smacks and cries of pain, then footsteps running off and faster ones approaching him. "Lovi?! Lovi are you alright!?" The voice was hysterical, worried, and German.

He felt warmth envelope him and then he felt himself flying, strong hands holding him tight into a familiar scarred chest. A familiar heart beating faster than he's ever heard it. The worried voice was lower, softer, as if trying to hold back tears. "Oh Lovi…" It whispered, "I'm so sorry…"

Lovino looked up into the albino face that seemed oddly familiar, "Who's Lovi? And who are you?"

At those words, the man fell to his knees and started to sob, the tears making his mystical and pretty face distorted.