"Dios, just look at him," the teen sighed with affection. The two behind him almost gagged with disgust.
"Stop being a bitch and just talk to him," the albino growled, tugging his friend away from the door frame.
"Gilbert is right, stalking the boy will get you nowhere."
"Use some of that Spanish charm or something."
Antonio glumly look down toward the floor. It's not like he hadn't tried that, the boy just acted as if he didn't exist. Shrugging his friend's arm off his shoulder, he continued to peer into the classroom.
The object of his affection sat back in his seat, surrounded by females as usual. His name was Lovino Vargas, he was sixteen years old, lives with his grandfather and younger brother, has two cats, loves tomatoes, and hates Germans due to a childhood trauma. Oh, and he has a Belgian girlfriend named Emma. At least, that's all of the information Antonio had discovered about him since August.
"Damn it, Antonio let's go, you can obsess over him at my party later." Grabbing him by his shirt collar, Gilbert dragged the love-struck spaniard to their next class.
"Say, how did you convince Alfred to date you Gil?"
Surprised, the German, or self proclaimed Prussian, chocked down his lunch. "The hell man, I'm dating his brother!"
"Whatever, just tell me!" Grinning, Gilbert reached into his pocket and pulled put out a list.
"One word, pick-up lines."
"Gil that's three words..."
"Shut up..."
Antonio nervously looked around the room. As usual, his friend's party was as wild and lively as ever. The only difference was that he wouldn't be joining in this time around. Slowly, he maneuvered his way around the grinding bodies, hoping to find the moody Italian.
Spotting the male's unique curl a few feet away, he quickly made his way toward it. "Listen Lovi, I've been-" he abruptly stopped. Holding in a groan once realizing it was his younger brother, and a rather tipsy looking one at that.
"F-Feliciano, have you seen your brother around?"
"Fratello? He's right over there silly!" Shocked, he immediately turned to see said man storming toward them.
"Damn it idiota, don't tell me you're drunk." Lovino scowled, letting his brother use him for support. Looking up, he glared at Antonio. "What the hell do you want?"
"Hola, um so I know you have a girlfriend and all but, um, hold on please." He stared at the smeared notes written on his left hand.
Crap, he should have used index cards.
"Yeah so, your mother must have been a very good baker because she put a beautiful bun in the oven."
"Excuse me?"
"Wait no! Lo siento, that wasn't right. Um, I think your father has nice buns! Wait that's not it either!" He rapidly searched his brain for the correct pick-up line, unaware of Lovino's current fit of laughter.
"Hey bastard." Antonio paused, giving his undivided attention to the Italian. Grabbing the hand without any writing on it, he quickly scribbled down his number.
"You're stupid, I like that in a man." With a wink, he adjusting his brother's grip on him, and headed for the front door before stopping.
"By the way, I'm single you dumbass!"