AN: Oh my. I really am starting to think I have issuses. Oh well~! This is a 'Little Red Riding Hood' kind of story. Kinda sorta. Alil bit of Spamano if you squint. Oh! And something kind of sad that I can't I believe I did.
Well, I hope you enjoy this!
Stocking covered, shoeless feet swung inches above the hard wooden floor while a pair of hazel eyes watched a figure dash about the small kitchen. The watching boy sat on his hands, the small digits slowly growing numb.
Outside, rain poured heavily and the winds blew the fat drops into sheets attacking the walls of the house. Howling could be heard over the distant thudding of each drop of liquid falling from the sky.
A loud crash made the hazel eyed boy jump and panic. He calmed soon after, aware that the sound was only the result of the clumsy boy he happened to be watching. The smaller boy running spastically throughout the kitchen dropped another iron pan, resulting in another loud noise.
A woman in a flowing dress soon emerged from an adjoining room, assisting the troubled boy with the shower of pans and pots.
"Oh, dear, Feliciano," she said with a pat to the boy's head, "you need to call on me if you need help." She gave him a motherly smile and hefted multiple cast iron pans into their proper spaces with an unwomanly strength.
The young boy looked down and rubbed his bear toes into the floor with his hands held behind his back. He nodded, his light brown hair bouncing against his forehead.
"Yes ma'am, Miss Elizaveta." The older boy sat static, watching this exchange from his seat silently with a bored expression.
He pulled his numb fingers from underneath him and sat them lightly on the table. They wiggled and tapped against the shiny maple surface. The fingers tingled as blood rushed forth and ended abruptly at the end of his capillaries.
"Lovino, dearie," the older boy shifted his eyes sharply in Elizaveta's direction, "Your brother has worked so very hard on these pastries and he is fatigued." Lovino nodded to the mother like woman. She tilted her head with a sweet smile.
"When the storm is to pass, will you tote the pastries and a bottle of wine to your ageing grandfather?" The protest rolling against the tip of his tongue was silenced by a hard stare from Elizaveta, so he nodded instead.
He soon prepared himself for the trip by loading a small wicker basket with the pastries and wrapping the ancient bottle of a dark red wine. He grabbed a hooded cloak of the same dark red as the wine and pulled the hood over his dark brown locks.
Moments later, the clouds parted and the rain halted its barrage. Lovino waited for many seconds, watching the sky until not a single cloud hung its lowly head in that baby blue sea.
Lovino received a departing hug from his brother and a strong embrace from the brunet woman. While she still held him in her warm arms, she whispered a warning.
"Mind your tongue, be polite. But be prudent, boy. There are wolves lurking. And look warily upon those with a smooth tongue. The softer the lips, the sharper the teeth."
Lovino, basket gripped tightly in his fist, strode purposefully through the dark, water sodden earth. He lifted his feet high out of the mud so the dark soil would not stain his white stockings.
After many minuets of trudging through the damp ground, he came upon a fork in the path, accompanied by a tall, dark haired man. He stopped, both unsure of which path to choose and whom this man was.
The man sniffed the air and turned, his back formerly facing the small boy. An excited smile threatened to arrest his features but he calmed it to a more soothing one. The boy looked up at him with an indecisive stare. His face held an internal conflict, twisting his features in an adorable way.
The taller man jutted out a large hand, giving the boy a frightful start. Lovino took a small step back, fearing a form of attack from the older male. As he examined the gesture more closely, he discovered that it was a greeting, not a attack. He mumbled a curse at his foolishness and hesitantly reached out his own hand.
The man's long fingers wrapped completely around Lovino's whole hand and his arm shook the poor boy's whole body. Lovino sent the man a sharp glare and his hand was soon released. The tall man gave the glare a wide grin.
"Hello! My name is Antonio. By what do you go," he asked, his eyes twinkling with the excitement he hid from his smile. Lovino was apprehensive, raising one brow at the man.
"It is none concern of yours what my name may be."
"Oh, please," Antonio gave a pout, "I have given you mine. Have you no manners?" Lovino scowled at the man berating him unhappily.
"I am Lovino... Sir," he grumbled.
"Ah. Hello Lovino. And where do you happen to be heading?"
"To my-" Lovino stopped, remembering the warning given to him just before he left. There are wolves lurking. But this man was certainly not a wolf! Wolves were hairy and frightful, while this man was handsome and joyful, even if he did grate on the boy's nerves some. There was absolutely no chance of this man being a predator.
"To my grandfather's home. But I have... Seemed to have lost my way." Antonio cocked his head and squatted to be eye level with Lovino. He placed his hand atop the red hood, his face showing concern.
"You are lost? Do you know the looks of the home," inquired Antonio. Lovino nodded and began to recite a description.
"It is a large brick house bordered by three wise oaks. Behind sits a pond with a constant blanket of mist." Antonio's green eyes widened in surprise.
"I know of this place! I shall take you there!" He stood and beckoned the boy to follow. Lovino, being the small, naive boy he was, followed the man through the left branch of the fork, without even a second thought.
They walked side-by-side while Antonio hummed a tune familiar to Lovino though he could not find the words. After many moments, Lovino spied the three tall oaks and a side of the brick home. Antonio stopped at the edge of the property and smiled to the boy as he ran to the door.
He watched slight legs, half covered by white lace stockings, disappear under the hem of a pink dress. His eyes scanned long arms hiding beneath the dark red cloak as well as his auburn hair.
Everything about the boy screamed innocence and it was almost intoxicating to Antonio.
Every afternoon, Antonio would walk along side Lovino as he headed to his grandfather's house. Every evening, Antonio would walk him back home. The boy was cool to the older man for the longest of time but finally, after almost a fortnight, the boy shyly latched his pointer finger around Antonio's smallest one.
That one mere touch was enough to set Antonio's skin ablaze with desire. He had to channel all of his will not to howl at the sky and devour the boy on the spot.
Lovino's face was burning, like Antonio's skin, and his eyes were averted to the trees opposite the older man. It made Antonio's heart sing.
The Innocence!
Such a cruel beast!
The cruel innocence,
I will ravish and feast!
It may be forbidden,
But I care not the least!
So jovial Antonio felt and he was taken even higher when two more small fingers tried to wrap around his larger hand.
"Can you speak for me, Lovino," asked Antonio with a twinkle dancing behind his eyes. Lovino looked up at the older male with his brows knitted together.
"Speak? How so?"
"Stories, poems, songs, anything of the such." Lovino leaned his head in thought with a hum.
"I may know a few small, stupid poems." Antonio smiled a squeezed Lovino's fingers lightly.
"Speak then, please." The smaller hazel eyed boy sighed and began his first poem.
"What are little boys made of?
What are little boys made of?
Frogs and snails and puppy-dog's tails,
And that are little boys made of.
What are little girls made of?
What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice and all that's nice,
And that are little girls made of."
A smile graced Antonio's lips at the old poem. It was one that he happened to be quite fond of.
"What are young men made of?
What are young men made of?
Sighs and leers, and crocodile tears,
And that are young men made of.
What are young women made of?
What are young women made of?
Ribbons and laces, and sweet pretty faces,
And that are young women made of."
His smile grew even wider, pleased that Lovino had included the much forgotten last half. As they reached the old oaks, Antonio's smile faltered and he bade the boy a melancholic goodbye.
Lovino was silent though out the first half of their walk home, Lovino's whole hand grasping at Antonio's with an almost palpable desperation.
"I have created a new poem today, Antonio," said Lovino quietly. Antonio looked down at the boy and hummed.
"May I hear it?" The short boy nodded and pulled the dark red hood tighter around his head.
"Chaos awaits Order,
Like you await me.
Let me quiet this madness,
And sing to thee."
Antonio continued to look at the boy as a mischievous grin stretched his lips. So, he was the chaos to his order? Chaos to order. Destruction to perfection. Sin to innocence. He licked his lips; he could wait no longer.
His grip on the smaller hand tightened and his other hand roughly grabbed Lovino's bony shoulder. Lovino yelped and his eyes grew wider than Antonio would have thought. Behind his eyes shone confusion and a strong sense of betrayal.
"An-antonio! What is this!?" The boy was panicking, flailing his small limbs, kicking the feet that once touched the ground. His small body was thrown over Antonio's strong shoulder unceremoniously. He yelled and cursed and beat on the man's back all the way through the forest as fat, hot tears escaped his betrayal filled hazel orbs.
Lovino's small body shook like the fallen autumn leaves around him. His bleary eyes tried to follow the dark blur he assumed was Antonio stalking around him. He could make out his head leaning from side to side, like an animal investigating something new and interesting.
A hand reached out and placed something holding sharp points behind his ear. The sharp pricks raised red blood to his skin. Antonio traced a finger through the blood and across his pale cheeks. He could hear Antonio's distinct voice purr,
"Red never suited you, Lovino. White. White is your color." Antonio sighed and pressed something cold and sharp against his cheeks.
"White like fresh snow,
Untainted, pious.
That sickening sweetness,
Is what separates us."
Antonio leaned he face close to Lovino's, their breaths mingling.
"Let sleep overcome you, Little Lovino. It will hurt less."
"I am worried, Miss Elizaveta. Lovino is still not home yet." Feliciano stood by the door, the sun having set long ago. Elizaveta placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.
"Come now, off to bed. Fretting over him now will help him none." Feliciano nodded in understanding, running off to bed while Elizaveta stood by the door, praying that Lovino would be home soon.
Elizaveta awoke to an anguished wail echoing through the house. She bolted out of her bed and down the stairs only to be greeted with the sight of a horribly sobbing and wailing Feliciano holding something red against his chest. She walked towards him with weak legs, fearing the worst.
What she faced was worse than she had previously thought. Clenched tightly against Feliciano's chest was Lovino's dark red cloak, patches darkened even farther by what one could only assume to be blood. In his right hand, Feliciano clutched a white rose marred with three drops of blood so tightly that his own palm bled. A tearstained note rested against the ground.
Elizaveta, with a shaking hand, grabbed the note.
"His beautiful innocence,
Marred by sin.
My sin, so selfish,
Painfully forced upon him.
He wondered about
And foolishly trusted,
While I lurked around,
And insatiably lusted.
White suits him best.
With love,
The Big Bad Wolf"