How long had it been since he had gone out during the day. He couldn't remember at this point, darkness filling every tired memory he attempted to drag up of the past weeks. At some point the cloudy monotony had blurred it all into one.

Lovino pushed the covers back from his reclined form, too tired to even be startled at the amount of energy it was taking to move. He had been in bed all day.

Forcing himself into a sitting position took too long, but finally he was there, reaching a pale arm out to grab a pair of pants and pull them languidly onto his thinning form.

He hadn't been outside for...3 days now, maybe 4. He really couldn't remember. It didn't matter anyhow. He wouldn't be going out now, if he hadn't realized that his cabinets were empty yesterday.

He had a vague recollection of forcing some sort of dried food down his throat the previous day, but he honestly couldn't recall the last time he had gotten any sort of pleasure from food. Eating to survive...how different from when he was young, and had thrived on food. Coming from an Italian background had its benefit, and if nothing else, he had at least gotten a sense of taste from his upbringing.

Remembering the smell of tomato sauce was making him nauseous. Or maybe it was the thought of leaving the house, he wasn't sure now.

There was a store not too far from the house, open 24 hours a day. It had become the one source of contact Lovino had with the outside world recently.

Not that he was speaking with anyone while he was there. He would move aimlessly through the aisles, imaging that the apocalypse had struck, and the only thing left on earth was him, and this god forsaken supermarket, a soundtrack of innocuous 80's hits playing in the background.

The basket clasped in his left hand would soon grow heavy with frozen food and bottled drinks. It didn't help that he hadn't been exercising recently. He could barely manage to carry the groceries back to his house without panting.

It was 2am when he passed through the doors of the near abandoned place tonight. One clerk at the check out, an opened energy drink stuffed mostly out of sight under the register. There was no one around now, Lovino didn't think it mattered if the poor thing just left it out.

The lights were brighter than Lovino was comfortable with at this point. The only saving grace was that no one was around to see him in this harsh light, how greasy his hair must be, how pale and oily his skin.

Why was he here again? So he didn't starve.

….Why was he here?

The sound of the automatic doors opening at the front of the store carried all the way back to the freezer aisle, and Lovino stopped short, one hand extended towards the handle of a cooler door. He didn't want to see anyone, that was the whole reason he came here at this time.

It was an odd sort of nerve wracking, trying to stifle the sound of his nervous breathing as he snuck through the empty aisles towards the register. He could hear footsteps making their way around the store. They were the loud, purposeful footsteps of someone who wasn't ashamed to be out at 2:15am, and Lovino found himself pushing down a bubble of resentment.

How dare he be so outgoing. The nighttime was meant for people like Lovino, who weren't fit to be seen in daylight.

That moment of distraction was all it took, and suddenly there was the other person, turning the corner around a display of olives.

Shame had Lovino playing dedicated shopper, leaning down to peer determinately at the label of...a can of fruit.

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Lovino couldn't remember the last time he had fruit, even the canned kind, where the juices dripped like sugared tears from every bite, and dribbled messily down your chin. He tossed the can into his basket, feeling the jolt as it landed heavily beside a frozen lasagna.

His grandfather would be ashamed.

The sudden heaviness of the can landing in the basket, however, was nothing compared to the heaviness Lobino felt in the presence to his right. A taller figure, dressed in an oversized olive jacket stood not more than 3 feet away, leaning in slightly towards the shelves.

Lovino let his eyes wander upwards from the man's shoes, following the lines of his jean clad legs, the bottom hem of the jacket, the tips of his fingers as they poked from the sleeves. Then there was the crook of the elbow of his right arm, as it bent to take hold of a can of tomatoes. Lovino could see the creases of his knuckles, made sharper in the florescent light.

When his eyes reached the curved chin, and the sight of the tip of the man's tongue poking out in inquisition at the can in his hand, that was when it became too much, and the shorter man was wrenching his eyes to the weathered linoleum.

Was it too late to pretend he hadn't seen anything? Could he make a run for it, and pray to a God he had no faith in that maybe, just maybe the stranger hadn't noticed his weak presence there in the preserved foods aisle.

His feet were already making the turn when the now unfamiliar sound of a person's voice clashed awkwardly with Lovino's internal dialogue.

"You out for a late night food run as well?" The tone was light and jovial, so much so that even Lovino had a hard time interpreting it as an accusation. It wasn't impossible though.

He scowled up at the stranger, taking in for the first time now the bone structure of his face, his brown curly hair, his dark eyebrows...but not quite able to meet his eyes.

"What's it to you?" His voice was hoarse from lack of use, and it only made him feel more defensive. The grocery aisle had become a hunting ground, and he was prey.

"Oh, I was just surprised to see someone other than myself out so late, that's all! I'm glad for the company, to be honest." He was raising his hands passively, the palm not still holding the can opened to face the other.

Lovino vaguely wondered when the last conversation he had was. It was taking too long, and he was starting to think it really had been before his extended "vacation" had started, and probably over the phone. There were some benefits to being the only one in the family out of the country, he supposed. High international calling costs meant he was largely safe from the barrage of concerned questions about his lifestyle.

He should have been safe from that here as well, in this inky well of time past midnight and before dawn, but maybe that was a poor assumption to make.

Maybe he would look into ordering groceries straight to his door. He was pretty sure that was a thing.

The stranger seemed to be waiting for a response, a now somewhat puzzled expression on his face.

"Are you alright?" The genuine concern in his voice was disconcerting, and Lovino's scowl relaxed unintentionally.

"Fine." The answer came out sharp, and a small part of the Italian's subconscious that had been pushed to the dark recesses of his mind flinched.

The stranger's face softened slightly, and he gave a half smile.

"If you say so. Have a nice night!" Lovino could see the can of tomatoes being dropped into a basket identical to the Italian's own, and the momentary feeling of panic that rose, inexplicably, had nothing to do with being out of the house.

"You too!" It was too loud, far too loud for the empty supermarket in the dead of night. He could hear his voice reverberating off the metal shelving units, holding out who knows how many pounds of preserved goods.

But the stranger who had reached the end of the aisle by this point was turning with the biggest, beaming smile on his face, Lovino didn't think even the sun had been this bright. Not that he could remember it too clearly.

"Thank you!"

His feet stayed frozen to the cold linoleum for several moments after the echo of the automatic doors had already faded away. Finally, as the silence began to set into his bones like a comforting fog, he forced himself to move slowly up to the register.

It seemed the clerk had been affected by the stranger too, as they passed Lovino a clearer smile than he ever recalled receiving from them before.

The streets that carried him back to the house were dark and silent as always. The house too, felt colder than when he had left it, though he could never explain why.

Sitting on the bed in his underwear, sitting the sticky juice from the can of fruit he had inadvertently purchased from the store, Lovino remembered the man from the supermarket and wondered if there wasn't an upside to having left the house today.

Hello there~

I'm afraid I've started another story *cries* it's a very similar mood to the other, I think. But I hope you enjoyed it, all the same. I don't have a plan for this one either, but I don't see it getting too long. Anyhoo, thanks for reading!