Dear Fratello,
How are you, my dear brother? Where are you? I haven't seen you in ages. How is Antonio? Is he doing alright? I know you probably won't answer me, you being your stubborn self. But I'm doing alright. With love, your brother,
Feliciano
Lovino felt tears well up in his hazel-green eyes. He couldn't believe Feli actually remembered him... he just couldn't. Why would he remember Lovino? He was a misfit, impure, he was rotten.
Lovino shook the thoughts away as he heard loud, obnoxious voices coming from the front door. He looked up to see Antonio, Gilbert, and Francis, obviously all drunk. Lovino cringed as he felt the Spainard's rough hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Lovi~"
Lovino looked up into Antonio's bright green eyes, and saw nothing but drunkedness. The Spainard's breath smelled of the bitter alcohol. He suddenly felt Antonio's strong arms lock around his torso. Lovino yelped a bit and tried to get out of his grip. "G-go away, T-toni..."
Antonio stole a glance back at his friends, who were standing like idiots behind them. Gilbert's red eyes were as arrogant as ever, locked on the small Italian. Francis, on the other hand, was looking mildly concerned, his eyes becoming a little less drunk, and Lovino assumed that he hadn't had much.
Antonio squeezed harder on Lovino's shoulder, making pain shoot through his torso. Lovino winced and felt small tears form in his already damp eyes.
"Hey... stop." Francis said semi-calmly.
The Spainard looked up and growled, "What?
"I said stop. You're hurting him."