Just a little idea I had. I like the idea of Antonio raising Lovino from newborn-age. I know it's incorrect, so I made this story AU. They're human in the story.
Um, I guess I'm just adjusting myself to the concept of babies- guess who's getting a new sibling? As mad as I was, I guess I've opened up to the ide- fact a lot.
Anyways. Enjoy, review, whatever, mkay~? It's 2:54am, I have school tomorrow, my laptop is dying, my back hurts, yadda yadda. Buenas noches~
I don't own anything!
It's late, dark and quiet. The only noises that softly brush Antonio's ears are the fluttering of the light curtains near his bed. It's a hot night, so an open window was normal that night in Spain. The entire nation was sleeping. Calmly. Quietly. Everything was perfect.
The way the moon sliced cleanly, leaving streaks of silver light on the floorboards. The way Antonio's calm breathing fit with the breeze. The way the large willow tree outside of the window cause an occasional hushed ruffling of leaves. Everything.
Stirring, and quiet whimpers are unheard by anyone so far. The second they become loud, demanding wails is when Antonio's eyes open. The wailing is now screaming. They don't sound pained, but they do sound needy. With a small huff, Antonio gets out of bed, and makes his way to the room next to his own.
It's a small room, but very organised, so space wasn't a problem. Antonio smiles. He's always smiling. He won't ever get fed-up with caring. He picks up the baby, shushing him gently, and rubbing his small back.
"Tranquilo, bebé. I'm here,"
Antonio lays the baby down on the change table in the corner of the room, a hand on the baby's chest as he grabbed the needed supplies from the shelf next to the table. It takes only a minute for Antonio to undo the baby's clothing, replace the soiled diaper, and redress the child. After tossing the used diaper into a nearby trashcan, Antonio picks up the baby again.
The screaming has calmed considerably, but the baby continues whining and moaning. Antonio lowers the baby from his shoulder into a cradling position, smiling down at him.
"Don't cry anymore, Lovino…" Antonio fishes a small blanket out of the baby's crib with his free hand, and covers the baby in his arm. Making his way downstairs, he grabs a bottle from the fridge. Everything is done with one hand now; Antonio's ears filled with Lovino's upset whining. After a few moments and practised movements, the bottle is warming up in a sink half-filled with hot water. While waiting, the Spaniard's tired fingers brush against Lovino's cheek, which is warm with a furious blush. He offers another awkward smile as he reaches for the bottle. Lovino only responds with a pitiful, tear-filled whine. Antonio shakes and tests the bottle. It's a little off in temperature, being slightly cooler than room temperature, but Lovino couldn't wait longer, and he knew it.
He doesn't give the baby yet, but instead takes him back upstairs, into his own bedroom. Humming quietly, he carries Lovino over to his open window, where a rocking chair covered in an old quilt sat. Settling into it, he prods Lovino's pouting lips with the nipple of the bottle, which is quickly reacted to. The baby feeds contentedly, small hands patting the hands holding the bottle in his mouth occasionally.
Frustrated grunts and huffs escape the baby a few times, as Antonio watches him, smiling. It was amazing how much this baby had changed him, although it'd only been a few weeks since the adoption. Even through the blanket swathing the child, Antonio can feel his fluttering heartbeat. It's quiet again, but Antonio's calm feelings aren't the same as they were a few minutes before that moment. Antonio's mind is slowly coming into realization on how much he did love the baby in his arms.
Lovino was now all he had. Lovino is his baby, and Lovino needs Antonio more than anyone else needs him. Eventually, golden eyes close as the suckling ceases. Antonio removes the bottle from Lovino's mouth, setting it down on the chair, sandwiched between his hip and the armrest.
Shifting, Antonio brought the baby closer to his heart. He leans close and gently kisses the baby's forehead. He takes a moment to simply hold the sleeping baby, whispering gently to him in Spanish about how precious he is. How beautiful he is. How wanted, needed and loved he is.
At that moment, it seems that nothing else in Spain is there. It's just Antonio, the moon, the breeze, and the beautiful Italian baby in his arms. It's all Antonio needs. It's all he wants.
A lump forms in his throat as Antonio's heart swells with messy emotion. What on earth could he have done to deserve such a beautiful thing? He feels tears brim his eyes, but none spill over.
After a few more moments of admiration, Antonio has decided to get Lovino back in his crib. He covers the baby up, and strokes his cheek gently. As long as his baby is content, he is as well.
"Te amo, Lovino,"
Within a minute, Antonio is once again snug in his bed, the only sounds in his hearing range being the breeze coming from the open window. It's late, dark and quiet. Yet, everything is perfect.