Their eyes locked, tension permeating the air around them like poisonous fumes. The bull began to paw at the ground with a torturous slowness, as if to taunt the bullfighter by prematurely digging him a grave. The young bullfighter inhaled a slightly trembling breath, putting on a face of determination. The bull snorted menacingly, daring his challenger to even think of making any motion.
The bullfighter mentally weighed his options, feeling sweat trickle down his face. They would all lead to the temperamental beast thundering after him. Considering the terrain, he knew that any course he would take would lead to defeat.
The bull seemed to sense this. It was almost as if a smirk had appeared upon his lips. The bullfighter accepted his fate, knowing that those horns would soon assault him, and darted away, the bull following suit.
Feliciano, the bullfighter, hopped onto a pillow with a giggle, and Lovino, the bull, joined him, dropping the fingers that had posed as his horns. He quickly began using them to tickle the smaller boy.
"Ahahahahaha! Il toro got you!" Lovino chuckled, refusing to cease the merciless tickling of his little brother's sides. Feliciano could not reply, his words held back by the fountain of laughter, which bubbled from his lips.
Once the older boy gave Feliciano some rest, he asked breathlessly, "When can I be il toro, fratello?""
Lovino gave another smirk, poking Feliciano's belly. "When you finally beat me, torero."
Centuries later, the Italy brothers, who now had the appearance of young adults, sat at a table, both with cups of coffee in hand. The younger set down his cup, memories returning to him. A small, playful smile made itself present.
"You know, I don't think I ever beat you," he said, startling the other.
After nearly choking on the sip of coffee he had taken, the older brother gave Feliciano a look of annoyance, then asked, "What do you mean, bastardo?"
"Well, toro, when we were little, I asked you when I could play the bull instead of the bullfighter. You said I could if I beat you, and I never did," he replied, hope sparkling faintly in his eyes.
Lovino gave a roll of his eyes, and grumbled, "Well you were always running away, what do you expect? It's not like that changed any." To a stranger, this would seem like plain rudeness, but this as actually Lovino's way of teasing his brother in an affectionate manner. When he saw the look on Feliciano's face, his eyes widened slightly.
"You don't mean…?"
"Per favore?" Feliciano pleaded with the same whining tone he had used as a child.
Lovino let out an exaggerated huff, then allowed a devilish grin to play upon his lips, raising his fingers to form horns.
"Better get moving now, if you don't want to stay il torero for a few more centuries!"
