A certain feeling of denseness resided languidly in the air, undisturbed nor even faintly noticed by the sole occupant of the darkened room. It was the result of the smoke that had been graciously distributed by the customers of the bar, their cigarettes glowing like little stars in the dimly-lit hall. However, those stars had been put out hours ago, when the bar was cleared for closing. The more stubborn of residents had been escorted out, save for one. The bartender, an older man with a rather gruff expression, had went up to the last customer, demanding that he took his leave. But upon seeing the identity of the young gentleman that was hidden under his dark fedora, he left him to his wine and locked up, trusting him in the bar alone. After all, this certain man had been a regular customer of his family's business for an ample amount of decades.

The lone man now stood over a pool table near the back, his fedora removed and placed upon the countertop. He held his pool stick in both hands, eyes narrowed as he surveyed his options upon the table. There weren't many. Annoyed with this outcome, he let out a colorful string of curse words, and retreated back over to the bar to pour himself more wine. It was quiet, the overall hum of voices now ceased that the others had left, their drunken and jovial conversations but a distant memory in the young man's mind, which had been hazed by the liquor. The only thing that showed that there were people here a few hours before was the never-lifting haze that suffocated the air, emitted from the men's tiny little cigarette stars.

So, you can imagine how startled the man was upon hearing the sound of a door opening.

Amber eyes shot towards the entrance, widening almost fearfully. Instinctively, he took a step back, being none-too keen at the mention of a confrontation. However, the person that walked in was someone the young man knew. And even though this person wasn't a threat, that didn't stop the man's amber eyes from squinting in an almost disgusted grimace.

"How the hell did you get in here?!"

The person that had walked through the door was busying himself with his coat, taking it off and placing it effortlessly over a chair. He barely seemed fazed by the other's hostile inquiry, and merely offered him a bright smile.

"When I called you and you didn't pick up, I knew you'd be here. You're always here when you want to hide out for a while." The way he said this was so nonchalant, so carefree, as if hiding out in a closed bar and playing pool by yourself was the most natural thing in the world. His smile never faltered. In fact, it almost seemed to grow when the other spoke, confrontational as it was.

"That didn't answer my question, idiota." Was the man's response.

"Ah, that will just be my secret, alright?"

Seemingly annoyed, the shorter of the two men turned, going back to his wine. His amber, fawn-like eyes shifted suspiciously over to his counterpart, who has making his way over to the bar as well. Without saying anything, he reached for the open bottle of wine, and poured himself a glass, smile still present. He adorned a simple long-sleeved shirt, a black lace stringing through the front to tie it together. His eyes were nothing short of astonishing, being a deep emerald green color that could melt anyone's heart with ease. The other man caught himself looking at them for a moment, and quickly adjusted his gaze to anywhere but the person next to him.

"I never said you could have some of my wine, you know. Who do you think you are, coming in and free-loading off of my booze?"

"But Romano, you "free-load" off of my booze all the time!"

"That's different! Someone has to make sure you don't hog it all to yourself!" The man, whose name was indeed Romano, snapped back.

Despite the other's rudeness, the green-eyed gentleman laughed, and took a drink of his wine, smile still present. "Then I guess I should be thankful for you."

To this, the only response that was supplied was a mumbled, "Damn right." before Romano partook in his glass of wine once more. Once he finished, he glared back over to the man next to him, eyes narrowing once more. "What did you want, anyways?"

"I guess you could say I was worried about my little Romato! We haven't spoken in weeks, Lovi."

A scoff emitted from the other. He left his counterpart at the counter, going back over to the pool table. He could feel the man's eyes watching him as he collected his pool stick once more, and considering his options upon the table.

A silence stretched on between the two as Romano surveyed the table, his frown providing a perfect opposite to the other's grin. Even when the amber-eyed gentleman behaved in such a manner, he couldn't help but to appreciate how absolutely endearing it all was. How deep his amber eyes were, how beautiful his defiant expressions could be. It was intoxicating, alluring, if you will. And he had a front-row seat to watch the spectacle, armed with a bottle of wine and the patience of a saint.

"Hey, Spain."

It was this that snapped the man out of his momentary contemplation. His gaze rested upon Romano, who stood with his arms crossed, glare ever-so-apparent.

"Si, Romano?"

The shorter of the two cocked his head over to the pool table, and replied with a simple, "Play with me."