Lovino ducked swiftly from a pencil who was thrown to him. His eyes twitched a little as he looked up to see his brother sitting on a chair, eraser in his hand and a canvas in front of him.

"Oh, sorry about that, fratello~" he grinned innocently. Lovino walked to him, sighing and tap his brother's head with the pencil.

"Just what the hell are you doing, stupido?"

"I'm painting like you see, ve~"

"In the living room?" his brother nodded, making Lovino popped a vein.

"Can't you do it in your room instead, stupid fratello?" his brother looked down to him. Seeing his little brother make his best-masterpiece-ultimate pout, he gave up. "Don't get the paint dripped to the floor, you got it?"

"Ve~ Si~"

.

Lovino tossed his bag to his chair and throw his body carelessly to his bed—which have Italian's flag bedsheet.

For him, his day's were AWFUL. Because of a certain Spaniard it is. The brunette always, always, clinging to the Italian even if his face was completely saying that he wanted him to go to the atlantic, frozing 'till dead. Or eaten by a shark wasn't a completely bad idea, though.

He sighed, rolled on his bed and frowned.

It's not like he hate him, though. He gave him this butterfly feeling in his stomach and he hate it. He swear he could puke anytime.

Especially when the Spaniard call him name, his stomach burn and he quickly run away from him. Which make Antonio thought he hates him. But yes. Maybe no. But literally, yes.

He hate him for making him confused and sick.

So this was completely that tomato bastard's fault, si?

.

Antonio curled into a ball on his friend's bed, looking to his knee blankly.

Gilbert call him once. Twice. Thrice. And finally kicked him out of the bed.

"Dios mio—why did you do that, mi amigo?" the brunette looked up to his friend, massaging his temple lightly.

"Zis is my bed." The albino said matter-in-fact. Rolling his eyes, he eat the apple beside his bed. "Vhat's up viz you today, Freud? You looked dovn today—so un-avesome."

He hasitated a little before answering with a low voice, "Lovino looked like he don't want me to go near him..." and Gilbert burst out in laughter. "What's so funny about it? I thought you're my friend!" He pouted.

"Aha—Es tut mir leid. It's just—you—" he began laughing again.

"You're not helping at all."

"Hey, vho said zat I vould help you?"

"I'm going home."

"Aw, easy zere," Gilbert pull the brunette so he sat beside him. "I'll help you, bacause I'm avesome, okay?"

Antonio still pouted like a child, muttering about how un-awesome Gilbert for making fun of him, "Geez, that's so unawesome."

"Hey I heard zat." Gilbert threw him a glare from the corner of him red eyes. "Vhere's Francy-pants anyvay?"

Apparently, Francis wa gone in a second after the Spaniard spend a hour or so in their math class for a date with random people that Antonio didn't know. Jeanne if he remember correctly.

"Oh, date again, huh." The albino shrugged. "Anyvay! Vhy don't you go to a date with Lovino as well?!"

"Lovino will punch me if I ask him."

"You haven't try."

"I'm sure of it." Antonio sighed looking as hopeless as he can.

Gilbert's mouth broke to a wide, sly smile. "Don't vorry! I have a plan! Don't give up before you try zis awesome plan!"

Gilbert sat closer to his friend and began whispering lightly.

A/N: ...MY FIRST FIC IN THIS ACC YEAHHHHHH~! *rolls like a mad girl*

So, basically, this is just a date *cross*crazy*cross* plan(s) for Spamano from BTT~ *laugh crazily*

...okay, so far so good? Review? XDD