It was a cold rainy night and Feliciano Vargas burst into his house. "Perché ?! Perché non mi permetta di essere con la Germania ?!"

Lovino Vargas, his older brother was sick and tired of him asking this question. "Lui è un bugiardo , pugnalate alle spalle e bastardo egoista ! Ti sto solo aiutando!"

"How dare you say that about him," Feliciano argued, "You always lie about him!" "You know what, Feliciano? He does not love you! He never has, he does not and he never will!" Lovino confirmed. Feliciano stood in shock. " Oh, really. Then in that case...Antonio never loved you, he does not and he never will, either," he retaliated. Lovino stood in shock, clenched his left fist and slapped his brother on his pale cheek. "Shut...up." Feliciano reached towards the reddened skin and it really stung. His own brother, who was supposed to protect him from harm, had slapped him. Feliciano felt tears swarm at the rims of his eyes. The younger Italian kneed his brother against the wall and held him by his throat with one hand. "Don't you dare talk about my friend like that." His voice was hushed and this sent chills down the older one's back. Then, tears streamed down his face as he dashed past the entrance and raced down the street.