In which life as a tsundere Slytherin is hard when there's a really determined and romantic Gryffindor pursuing you.
Hope you lovelies have a magnificent Valentine's day, and have fun, whether it be with an actual loved one or your anime/fictional amore~
Lovino awoke to very loud "whispering" on Valentine's day.
Seeing as all classes had been canceled in honor of the dumb holiday, he elected to ignore the other Slytherins, and instead try and get back to sleep.
As Lovino rolled over and stuffed his face into the mattress, someone said, "He's going to freak out."
"He's going to kill him," someone tittered while Lovino growled and threw his pillow over his head.
"Forget about him, Lovino's going to kill Gil."
And there went any chance of sleeping. If it involved him killing Potato-for-brains (an idea that, to be honest, he wasn't too opposed to), then it was probably worth getting up for.
"Okay bastards," Lovino started as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, "What the fuck is- CHIGI!"
The assembled crowd began snickering as Lovino flailed and ultimately fell out of his bed because it was covered in red and plush and pink and smiley faces and hearts and Oh my fucking god, what the hell is this?
One strain of hissing laughter stood out from the rest as Gilbert Beilschmidt came to stand over Lovino, "So I take it you like it, then?"
Lovino tore his eyes away from the lovey dovey nonsense to glare. "Why the hell is that shit all over my bed, albino potato?"
"Because, grumpy Italian, it's Valentine's Day!"
"No fucking dip," Lovino rolled his eyes, "Why is it all on my bed? And what do you have to do with it?"
"Your lack of faith wounds me; I didn't do anything wrong," Glancing down at Lovino's unamused face, he shrugged, "'Tonio payed me 3 galleons to do it."
A beat in which it sank in, before the Slytherins began snickering again and Lovino's face instantly flushed and he stood, taking out his wand to deal with his bed.
"Che stupido, idiota, troppo determinato, fastidioso bastardo."
Lovino only made it as far as the Slytherin table before he was given another reason to hate the 14th of February.
"Ah, Lovino Vargas?"
Lovino sighed, turning to the boy beside him, whose name he couldn't quite remember. "What the hell is it now?"
"Sorry!" The boy-it started with an M... or a W...-held out a basket of admittedly delicious looking tomatoes and a bouquet. "I was just told to give you this!"
"Let me guess, it's from the tomato bastard, right?" Lovino rolled his eyes and snatched the basket. "You can tell him to shove his stupid flowers up his ass and leave me the fuck alone."
The boy's-Marv, Mark, Matvey, Moe?-eyes widened, but before he could start stuttering out objections, Lovino cleared his throat as heat began to pool in his cheeks.
"And, um, I guess you can tell him I said 'grazie' too. For the tomatoes, I mean."
The boy-Morgan, Mel, Matt... Matthew!-blinked at Lovino in shock for a few seconds. "You want me to tell him you said 'thanks'?"
Lovino's flush grew, "Well yeah... but only for the tomatoes, got it bastard?" Noting Matthew's confused look, Lovino ran a hand through his hair before continuing, "It's just that they're out of season and God knows they're a pain to grow in the herbology greenhouse-believe me, I tried and they crossbreeded with a bunch of magic plants and none of them were edible; it was horrible-and I, contray to popular belief, actually have some fucking manners. Think you can handle telling him for me, Matthew?"
The boy looked even more suprised, but glowed in happiness, "A-ah, of course I can, Lovino, it'll be no problem."
"Good." Lovino took a bite out of one of the tomatoes and holy fuck, they were good. "Now scram, bastard."
Lovino settled down with his basket of magnificent tomatoes, pointedly ignoring the multiple (And boring. Couldn't they at least be a bit creative if they were going to jeer at him?) comments directed towards his choice of breakfast.
Stupid bastard, even ruining the sacredness of eating a ripe tomato for me.
After asking (see: bribing and begging) Arthur to borrow his map of the underground tunnels, Lovino managed to avoid any more extremely romanti- I mean! Really unwanted displays of affection until after dinner. Arthur had revoked the map (he had said something about "annoying Gryffindors" and Lovino was glad he wasn't the only one with the problem) so Lovino was trying to get back to the dungeon without drawing too much attention (But it wasn't like he was sneaking around or anything! He was much too manly for that). He was doing pretty well, just 6 yards from the entrance, when he was caught by a blue and bronze clad figure.
As Lovino tried to wrestle his arm away, the Frenchman took out a walkie-talkie. "Gil! I have found our petit Italien!"
Hissing laughter came over the crackling speaker, "Dontcha mean Tonio's little slice of Italy?"
"I," Lovino hissed as he snactched the radio, "Am not anyone's 'little slice of Italy', potato bastard!"
"Sure you aren't," came the reply, almost simultaneous , from both boys.
"God damn it," Lovino massaged his temples, "Look, I just want to go relax, so would you kindly get the fuck off?"
"Ah, cher, I would, but you've been avoiding Antoine's très romantique gestures all day and I don't like seeing my friend sad."
Lovino ceased his escape attempt and cocked his head at Francis. "He's sad? Why the hell is that bastard sad?" I didn't even know that he had another mode besides annoyingly happy.
"Didn't you know, mon petit bougon?" When Lovino shook his head, Francis smiled and continued, "He wanted to spend today with you and is rather upset, not only that you only got to see two of his gestures, but also that he didn't get to see you personally, at all."
The embarssment set in first, as a reflex. Idiot, wanting to see me and being roman-ANNOYING! Being extremely annoying. Unfortunately, guilt soon followed, and Lovino sighed and rubbed a palm over his face. "Ugh. Just fucking take me to him already."
A fucking moonlit picnic.
"Is he fucking serious."
Francis nodded excitedly, "Oui, isn't it so sweet? A romantic picnic, the sounds of the lake as background music, the moon making your love visible for all..."
"Let's stop imagining how 'romantic' it will all be and get over there so I can get this over with," Lovino huffed and began pulling Francis towards the checked blanket (Really, where did he even find that ugly thing), before Francis stopped.
"Non, I'm staying right here."
Lovino turned back with panic, "You mean, I have to go over there by myself?"
"Don't tell me," Francis smirked, "That the Lovino Vargas is afraid of facing a lovestruck Spaniard alone."
"No! Of course not; I don't get afraid. In fact… in fact you should just go back to the castle."
And with that, Lovino Vargas puffed out his chest, held his head up, and internally panicked as he headed to the ugly picnic blanket.
As he got there, Antonio noticed and began to get up, presumably to hug Lovino or something, but Lovino held up a hand to stop him. "I'm only here because your stupid friends wouldn't stop bothering me, capisce?"
Antonio nodded rapidly and took Lovino's hand (I'm not blushing, I'm just... flushing out of anger!) to lead him to the blanket, "Si, si, of course, but come on; I have tomates and I even snuck into the kitchen and made some churros, and I tried making some pizza, even though I'm sure it's not as good as you could make, and..."
The two settled down to their (very romantic) meal, talking about everything from how to make pasta sauce to the proper wand motions when attempting to turn someone into a frog. The next day, Lovino would undoubtedly deny ever smiling or enjoying the Spaniard's company or allowing Antonio to lace their fingers together (despite visual evidence provided by a certain Hufflepuff with a frying pan), but, even if it was only for a few quiet hours, Valentine's day gained some redemption in Lovino's eyes.
Not doing translations because it's late/early, I'm tired, and I just want to get this posted because I just finished it and I'm so done with writing right now (But I have to do it for CirqueDuFreaky). Sorry. Not really.
Review or something. I don't care.
