TARTANI

A knock reverberated on the door, drowning out the soft bzzt of the electric lamps illuminating the study. Instantly, Lovino knew who it was, and he sighed, shuffling a few papers, before shoving them to the side. He was not in the mood. "Go away," he snapped.

He wanted peace, that was why he was in the study. Peace and quiet. Which, was hard to find here in the Machinist Guild with the constant whrrr of oversized cogs, the hiss of steam, and the unceasing babbling of the other guildmates. Not to mention, their zany behavior. It was thanks to one of their… antics… that he had locked himself up in this room in the first place. He was trying to write out a paper about clockwork engines, and he could not be interrupted or distracted. At least if he didn't want to be expelled from the Guild.

"Are you sure, little one?" replied Antonio, using the nickname he gave the young man eight years ago, when Lovino was… well… little. "Lunch is ready." Lovino snorted, blowing his bangs out of his eyes.

"I don't care." He got out of the chair and walked over to the crammed oaken bookshelf, yanking out a leather-bound book stuffed with crinkled sheets of paper. Now… where was that diagram? With his brow furrowed, he bit his bottom lip, scanning the small study

"There's pasta," said Antonio. Lovino rolled his eyes, frustrated, but a bit amused at his attempt to coax him out of the room.

"I'm not hungry, and it's probably that creamy shit that my idiot younger brother likes," he shot back. Antonio's sigh was audible from behind the steel barricade that Lovino had bolted shut and secured so idiots, like Antonio, wouldn't come barging in without any notice.

"There's both," answered Antonio after a moment's silence, broken only by the continuous stream of thuds as Lovino emptied the bookshelf, irritated at the sheer amount of books that the damn thing could hold. Why did he ever allow so many books in this room? He didn't even like the stupid things.

"Still don't care, still not hungry." He yanked a desk drawer open with such force, it came right out, crashing onto the floor, spilling old gears, copper wires, and spare ammunition everywhere. "Son of a-" he swore so colorfully, that it could've painted a canvas with a infinite amount of lurid rainbows.

"Little one? are you alright?" enquired Antonio. Lovino scowled and chucked a sizeable gear at the door, making it shiver.

"I would be if a certain asshole would leave me alone," Lovino retorted. Grabbing handfuls of junk, he dumped the stuff back in the drawer and jammed it back into the desk. But, not without banging his head against the desk's edge.

"Dammit!"

"What was that?" exclaimed Antonio. The door rattled, but was held shut by the crossbar and the deadbolt. Under his breath, Lovino proclaimed his undying love for whoever came up with such a brilliant contraption.

"You locked the door…"

A thin smirk twisted the corners of Lovino's lips, despite the grievous goosebump that was swelling up on his forehead. "You've noticed, finally," he drawled, rubbing his throbbing forehead.

A snort was heard from Antonio. "You do know, that if I wanted to, I could have Gilbert take the locks off the door," he said. Lovino made a face, gripping the chair tightly.

"I still carry knives in my boots," Lovino replied. A moment of silence as Antonio digested the threat...

"You still do that?" he asked. Lovino crossed his arms, his lips pursed into a thin line. He needed to soundproof this room, or else what was the point of having a door? Talking with Antonio, even with a door separating the two of them, it was like having him in the room. Such emotion. The perfect raise in pitch... the subtle emphasis… Lovino could imagine him standing right in front of him, arms crossed, his left eyebrow raised in an amused, if somewhat exasperated expression.

Dammit.

"Yes, didn't you just hear me?" Lovino snapped, turning his attention back to the books that littered the floor.

"But, that's dangerous, little one," said Antonio. Lovino rolled his eyes, wishing that Antonio could see it, and get the point. But, if Antonio were to see it… then…

Forget it.

"Not anymore dangerous than carrying loaded guns." Lovino jammed a few books back into the bookshelf, only to let out a vehement curse as they tumbled back down, straight on top of his head.

"Fair point," Antonio conceded. "But, is everything alright in there?"

Lovino huffed, kicking a book and sending it flying in his irritation. "Fine, just fine," he spat out in between clenched teeth. Antonio hrrmed, flushing Lovino's cheeks.

"I am fine, bastard!" he snapped.

"Please, can you be a little less vulgar?" asked Antonio.

"How about this? Screw you."

"Better," Antonio replied cheerfully. Lovino groaned, shaking his head.

"But," began Antonio, "will you be coming down to lunch? The others are waiting for you."

"Why should I? I'm not hungry," Lovino lied, his stomach grumbling. Thankfully, Antonio couldn't hear that through the door. If he could, there'd be no end to his fussing. Worry, worry, worry. That was Antonio's specialty. When he wasn't helping his younger brother, Feliciano out with design; or running errands for Gilbert and Ludwig, the two potato bastards, as Lovino "affectionately" dubbed them, he was worrying and mother henning their unit to death.

"Laura's there," Antonio said. Lovino stiffened, his hands becoming tight fists. How casually he could say that! As if… As if…

"Are you messing with me? I thought the girls were out today," enquired Lovino. He could practically see Antonio's shrug as he replied:

"Yes, but the port was closed due to an incident with one of the airships and there was a small fire. Nothing too severe, thankfully," replied Antonio.

"Why wasn't I informed of this?"

Antonio sighed. "Because you spend most of the time cooped up in your study, how are we supposed to convey anything to you?"

Lovino snorted. "I don't know, maybe… Just stand outside of my door and say, 'hi, hate to interrupt you, but there was a fire at the port, and as such, Laura and the others decided to stay in the Guild today'. Or, you could slip a note under my door." He shoveled another pile of junk into the open drawer. "That's what most people would do," he added.

"By most, you mean you, right, little one?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"So…" Antonio trailed.

Lovino narrowed his eyes, shooting a look at the door. "What?"

"Will you be coming to lunch?"

Lovino rolled his eyes and made his way over to the door, and undid the locks, peeking his head out to give Antonio a look. Tall, lean, with wavy brown hair that framed his grass-green eyes, Antonio was giving Lovino one of his signature soft grins that made the girls blush (much to Lovino's annoyance), or… at least until he saw the mark on Lovino's forehead. His eyes widened, his eyebrows shooting up.

"Little one, what the-"

"Don't ask," interjected Lovino, glaring up at him. He wished he was about a foot taller so he could look down at everyone with an evil-eyed glare like the bigger bastard out of the two Potato Bastards- Ludwig- did. Unfortunately, true to the title of "little one" he was on the short side.

Antonio tilted his head to the side, peering past Lovino into the room. "What in the…?" His jaw dropped. Snorting, Lovino stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"Don't think about it, bastard," snapped Lovino, his long black trenchcoat flaring out behind him as he stormed down the hall.

With an incredulous expression, Antonio watched him go before shaking his head, and breaking out into a light run to catch up with him.

To Be Continued…

"Tears of stars heavier than his voice.

Where are the stars that colored out your looks?

Fragments of memories from those days cross over the night sky.

The night calmed down with my thoughts of you."

-Syrufit, Fill You In