The Perfect Praline
A/N: Forget it, I'm not on hiatus. It's too much trouble. Having said that, I cannot promise quick updates for this fic because I'm way too busy. (I really should take a fanfic break, shouldn't I? But my brain just does not shut up.)
Felicia Vargas – Fem!North Italy
Netherlands and Belgium are not related to each other in this fic.
This story takes place in a fictional town/city/country.
Warnings for suicidal thoughts/references.
Also, I'm not well-versed with anything medicine related, so if I've gotten facts/details/whatever wrong, I'm so sorry. I'm just a lowly history student who believes that an aspirin and some sleep is a good enough cure for anything :'D
"My momma always said: life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." – A quote from the movie Forrest Gump.
Nestled between an ATM and a salon was The Shop. Everybody knew it. Ebony door and gleaming windows, like portals to another universe. Children stood outside it for hours, mooning at the chocolate sculptures of Easter Eggs and Santa Clauses and Valentine hearts, depending at the time of the year. Even when there was nothing to celebrate, the sculptures remained, new ones every week. Woodland animals, footballs, anything. Because nobody ever needed an official festival to eat chocolate.
And then there were the pretty glass plates holding up truffles, pralines, squares, bars, even small pots of sauces. Some were packaged in marketable gift boxes, others dangled in gossamer silvery drawstring pouches, their coloured aluminium foil just begging to be unwrapped, just begging to be eaten.
On entering The Shop, a customer was pulled in by its smells, its decor. There were no tables, just a large glass case displaying an endless variety of chocolates. Comforting yellow lights made everything soft, but still bright enough to study the way the chocolates shone. The walls had a still-life painting of fruit, a plaque which talked about the origins of chocolate and a framed certificate from a well-known food guide, naming The Shop to be the best in its business.
At the counter, there were displays of gift boxes in various sizes, pamphlets, take-home menus, visiting cards and an experienced chocolatier-cum-salesperson greeting everyone who walked into The Shop with a free sampling of their latest creations.
It was one of the best places in town to buy chocolate.
And though in common parlance, people called it The Shop, the sign on the door read Theobroma Cacao.
Greek for the term 'food of the gods'.
-/-
"You smell of chocolates."
A giggle. A wet kiss.
"You always smell of chocolates, Lovino."
"Mmph – Emma – Emma – mmph – no, wait."
Lovino's hands, formerly around Emma's behind, unravelled and pushed her gently against the wall. They were in her narrow hallway, the dim yellow lights and three glasses of wine pumping through their blood making things seem a little less coherent. She was staring up at him, lips pink, face flushed, one sleeve sliding off her narrow shoulder. She was panting. She was a mess.
Any other night, Lovino would not have been able to resist. He would have physically carried her to the bed, carefully stripped off each article of clothing, and then—
Ugh. Thoughts like that were not helping. "Wait for what?" she asked delicately, all doll-like innocence and feigned naivety that did not befit the way her dress dipped and showed her cleavage.
This was a bad idea. "I can't stay the night."
Her pretty face showed nothing for a moment, but then her eyebrows furrowed together, a small pout forming on her lips. "What? Why not?"
Lovino was panting too. His tie was lopsided, the first buttons of his shirt undone. He bent took a few steps backwards and pressed himself against the opposite wall, staring at Emma as he took desperate breaths. He had to calm down and somehow put it back in his pants because dammit, he had a job to do.
"A couple of bags of really exotic beans coming in early tomorrow. Felicia won't be in town until tomorrow night, and I need to examine them before I sign the papers."
Emma blinked, and then crossed her arms. An eyebrow raised, a deadpan expression. "I'm being rejected for—for cacao beans!?"
"They're from Ecuador! Very expensive! You have no idea what we had to do to get our hands on some of this stuff. I mean, they're so rich, just the colour—"
She raised a hand up to stop him, looking just downright unimpressed. "I don't care."
"You will care when I get a box full of truffles for you, amore," Lovino teased, coming closer to her now and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You, with your excellent taste in chocolates." He paused, and then as an afterthought, added, "And men."
"Men?" Emma snorted, angling her face away before Lovino could kiss her. "My boyfriend deserts me for a bunch of magic beans."
"He sounds like a bastard."
"Oh, you have no idea."
"Well, do you think you could forgive him if he came back tomorrow with his finest collection of pralines?" Lovino waggled his eyebrows as he leaned down to kiss her jaw. "Belgian pralines," he went on. Kisses on her jaw, her neck, her breasts. "My Belgian praline."
"Oh, don't even," Emma muttered, pushing him off lightly without a single change in expression. "You're going to have to try a lot harder if you want to make it up to me tomorrow. It'll take more than a box of chocolates, Lovino."
"All right." Lovino gave her his most charming smirk. "What can I do for you?"
"Whatever I want."
"Oooh, that sounds like fun. I'll happily serve you tomorrow."
This finally got Emma's lips to twitch upwards, the sign of a slowly forming grin. "Good."
"I really am sorry, though. I just remembered about these stupid cacao beans. Everything's been really hectic lately."
"Yeah…no, I understand." Emma pecked him on the lips. "Duty calls and all that."
Lovino let out a long, tired sigh. "Yeah…"
The town was a good thirty miles from the city, its chief attraction being the river. It cut across the place like a butter knife in a cake, with several small bridges at different parts of it. There were boats for people who cared for that kind of thing, but the river's sharp current meant that most people just left it alone.
Lovino walked by the bank with his hands in his pockets. He was exhausted, but rather pleased with the way things had gone with Emma tonight. Yes, he definitely wished he could stay the night with her, but work was work. Besides, he'd be really disappointed if he wasn't there to personally inspect the cacao beans tomorrow. Oh sure, Ivan could handle it, but Lovino was a perfectionist. He liked knowing just exactly what was going into his chocolates. Anyway, a chocolatier knew that the secret was really in the beans. Good quality beans meant good quality chocolate.
And quality, above all, was the most essential thing.
The spray of the river was as cold as ever. It was a rather chilly night, all things considered. Even if it was the middle of summer. His eyes wandered lazily over to the water. He loved it. He loved its jagged current and choppy temperament. He loved how it splashed and licked the ground as though savouring it. And he loved what it did to the town. It was the artery. The best restaurants and the sharpest stores overlooked it. Even some of the more privileged people here had their homes very close to the water, close enough to hear it chug by at night.
Lovino glanced at it now, liquid blackness with streetlamps and lights from people's windows making it glow. It really was quite pretty. Maybe he'd take Emma to one of those river-side cafes tomorrow evening, just to make it up to her. Both of them liked these things, so it would be-
What was that?
Lovino stopped for a second, peering straight at the water. For a moment it looked like he'd seen a—
Wait.
"What the…" and his voice trailed away, a combination of terror and disbelief.
A hand.
For a moment, it looked like he'd seen a hand in the water. Barely just a silhouette against the poor light from the streetlamps.
Wait, no.
"Shit!" Lovino yelped, his feet taking him automatically towards the river's edge. "Hey! Hey, can you hear me? Hello?! Shit!" Shaking, trembling, he reached for the phone in his pocket but his cold quaking fingers meant it simply slipped through, falling onto the grass and almost sliding into the water's edge.
The hand disappeared into the current.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck. Wait, hold on!"
He worked on instinct, wading into the river up to his knees and then deeper. Jesus god, was the water cold. And it seemed thirsty, too. It sucked Lovino in with one clean swoop, pulling him in deeper and forcing his head underneath.
But he was a strong swimmer, long hours at the high school pool coming back to him now. He kicked, he spluttered. His mind was consumed. One aim. Focus. Because someone else was drowning and Lovino was not going to let himself feel guilty about letting someone die.
Hands flailing. Feet not hitting the bottom. Water. Air. Cold.
The hand was freezing, soft and wet. Lovino's fingers brushed against it before the current dragged it deeper. So Lovino grabbed air and put his head underneath, blindly grasping for something—anything—something—oh! It felt like…like hair. Oh, he was pulling someone's hair!
His fingers locked themselves into place and he yanked, his hands reaching out for more—a shirt, a sleeve, an arm—it was all a matter of dragging and pulling, hoisting the body up with strength he had no clue he had, his brain on overdrive and yet strangely blank, lugging the person towards the shore with both of Lovino's arms under the man's shoulders, his lungs screaming for air and his brain slowly fizzing out as the excitement left him and the cold water ate into his bones.
Shivering. Teeth chattering. Terror, confusion. Not a person, just an unconscious body. Heavy like wet cotton, but at least on dry land.
But it wasn't over yet. What did they do in the movies and cop shows? Lovino turned the man over, onto his back, his fists hitting the man's chest and pumping his sternum through rasps of, "Wake. Up. Wake. Up." And with that didn't work, Lovino pushed him onto his stomach because he'd once read something about the tongue blocking the airway of an unconscious person if they were lying in the normal sleeping position. Instead, he dove for his phone, still lying at the water's edge.
"He-hello," he rasped when someone on the other end of the emergency helpline answered. "Th-there's a m-man. He was d-drowning but I g-got him out but he's n-not waking u-up." The cold was making it hard to talk. Lovino could feel his body going absolutely numb. He stammered some vague location and begged for them to hurry up. When he finally cut the phone, it was with renewed energy. "H-hey, you've g-got to k-keep breathing. Help is on th-the way."
"I figured you could use some coffee."
It had been hours. It was almost two in the morning now, and Lovino was sitting in a cold hospital chair wearing clothes donated by Girl Scouts. His hair was more or less dry, but his eyes stung and his body ached. He wasn't sure why he was waiting. Something about police reports. Something about the drowning victim himself. Lovino didn't want to leave. He felt…responsible, somehow. Responsible for the man's safety.
Lovino tiredly raised his head. The waiting room was poorly lit, one nurse sitting with a terrible squint behind a desk reading a Mills and Boons. Alfred was standing before him, for some strange reason dressed in full police-officer uniform. It was the middle of the night, why did he look like he was still on duty?
Alfred was holding out two Styrofoam cups of hospital coffee, and offered one of them to Lovino with a soft smile.
"Thanks," Lovino mumbled, reaching out for it. His fingers curled around the warm cup, soaking in the heat the best he could.
Alfred's smile didn't go away. Instead, he sat down beside Lovino, gazing at him with gentleness and affection. Lovino wished he would just stop. The last thing he needed right now was Officer Alfred Jones and his stupid compassion.
"It was really brave, what you did. You're a hero."
"I thought you were the hero," Lovino retorted weakly, taking a small sip of the coffee. He didn't comment on how sweet it was.
"Yeah, but tonight, you were. There's no question. I mean, this guy could have drowned. You could have too."
"Whatever." Lovino didn't want to think about it. The memory brought back the same panic and confusion. "I just did what any decent person would do."
"Rubbish. Any decent person would have called the professionals. By the time they arrived, it would have been too late."
"Alfred, shut up, I swear. I don't want to talk about."
"Okay, okay." Alfred paused and then took a sip from the coffee. "Ugh, I think I overdid the sugar."
"You always overdo the sugar. You'll get diabetes."
"Says the guy who owns a chocolate shop."
"Shut up."
Alfred's laugh was tired and soft. "You haven't changed a bit."
"Shut up, Alfred."
Neither of them made eye-contact for a moment, but then Lovino glanced up for a second and locked his eyes into Alfred's polished blue ones. "Any idea how the guy's doing?"
"The drowning victim? No word yet. I flashed my badge and everything too, but the doctors just kept shutting me down. But I get the feeling he'll be fine. Narrow escape. Did you even see what happened?"
"No. I told you, I just saw him drowning. He was probably drunk or something and fell into the water."
"Probably. But I'll still need to write a stupid report and all that. I just wish they'd let me talk to him. I managed to get a hold of his wallet, though. It's empty, but there's a pretty badly damaged credit card." Alfred pulled a tattered looking lump of leather from his pocket, opened it and took out a rectangular piece of plastic with the transparent film peeling off and the magnetic strip missing. "It says here his name is Antonio Fernandez…something. Carr-something."
Lovino took it from Alfred gently, stared at the barely-legible letters and slowly said, "Carriedo. I think."
"Thanks." Alfred took put the wallet and card away, took another sip of coffee, grimaced again, and then finally sighed. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes before yawning. "I want to go home."
"Mmh. You probably should. It's late."
"Yeah…I think I will." He glanced at Lovino now. "Can I drop you home? You've had a rough night, I don't want you to exert yourself."
"Don't bother. I'm fine."
"Is Felicia home? I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be alone right now."
Lovino's fingers tightened around the Styrofoam cup. "Shut up," he snapped. "It's fine. I'm okay. I'll just walk. Or call a taxi."
"But it's late!"
"Alfred."
"But—"
"What exactly is your grand plan? Feli isn't home. She's never home these days, she lives with her boyfriend now. And even then, they're on some two-day nature retreat or something. I'm alone. Are you planning on letting me stay on the couch at your place? Would Kiku be okay with that?" The second the words left his mouth, Lovino found the energy to stand, march over to the nearest trash can, and dump the remainder of his coffee. He turned, ignoring Alfred's hurt expression. "Quit being so overprotective."
"I'm not being overprotective," Alfred mumbled as he got to his feet, lowering his eyes to examine his shoes. "I'm just…I'm just doing my job."
"Whatever," Lovino snapped, rubbing his face again. His muscles felt heavy. Moving was difficult.
Alfred sighed, and neither of them spoke for a moment. Finally, he cleared his throat and began, "Um, listen, I meant to talk to you about something…"
"What?" Lovino asked sharply, narrowing his eyes to feign anger he didn't entirely feel anymore.
"Well…" Alfred replied, digging his hands into his pockets to appear composed. "Some of my stuff is still with you. A couple of shirts and my Xbox."
"Oh, yeah." Lovino made for the plastic chair and sat down again. Alfred did the same. They didn't look at each other. "I've kept it all in a box under my bed. I keep forgetting to return it."
"And you've left a few books at my place. Those really boring classics you like to read."
"I'd like them back," Lovino simply replied.
"Sure. I'll drop them by at the shop tomorrow?"
"Sounds good. I'll get your stuff, too. I'm sorry, I really don't know how I kept forgetting to return it."
"Nah, it's okay. It happens." Alfred then let out a short laugh. "I'm just glad you're not like my last ex. He burnt all my stuff."
"Wow. I'm not that much of an asshole."
"No, you're not." Alfred smiled warmly at him. "You're a really nice guy, you know?"
Lovino rubbed his face again. "I guess I'd have to be, right? Risking my life to save a stranger from drowning and all that jazz?"
"Oh yeah, don't even get me started. That was really cool. I'm so proud."
"Shut up."
"Okay, geez." Alfred stood, gulping down his hot, sweet coffee without even wincing. Didn't it burn him? "Last chance. Do you want me to drop you home?"
As if Lovino's pride would allow for that.
"No. I'll just walk."
Alfred rolled his eyes. "You've not changed one bit. Still so stubborn."
"Cheers to that," Lovino replied bitterly.
He could still hear Alfred's laugh as the policeman walked off, shaking his head.
Honestly, Lovino wasn't sure what to do with himself. Walking home right now was physically impossible. But he'd be damned if he was going to let Alfred drop him. He wanted to stay angry at Alfred, bitter, like the chocolates he liked to eat. But Alfred made it too difficult.
Besides, he knew that his muscles were aching because he hadn't had any serious physical activity in years. Maybe walking off the pain would actually help. Because if he just lazed around, his body would become tight and then it would be impossible to move at all.
Another half an hour ambled past.
He sat back against the chair and closed his eyes. Cacao beans from Ecuador…He had to get home. The delivery guys would come by eight, before the shop even opened for business! Lovino had to be there! He'd asked Ivan to come in early tomorrow, just to have a second opinion, but he had to be physically present. He'd been working on this chocolate recipe for too damn long. He wouldn't let poor quality beans get in the way of this.
But…Lovino couldn't just leave, could he? What about that Antonio guy? Where was his family? Alfred hadn't mentioned anything about that…Plus, Lovino had saved his life. It felt rather awkward to just walk away, like some sort of silent, shadowy saviour of the night. He couldn't just go Batman on Antonio, could he?
(Lovino Vargas, chocolatier by day, Batman by night. A life shrouded in mystery, adventure and 70% cacao liqueur truffles.)
Oh, yes. That could be a nice introduction. Now for his suit…Well, he wasn't going to wear his underwear over his pants. He'd never understood why these superheroes liked to dress like male strippers, but he was going to have no part in it. Well, he'd wear black because he was a Hero of the Night. His black leather jacket would do well. What about a mask? Wasn't anonymity a requirement?
"What the hell is wrong with me?" he wondered aloud, enough for the nurse at the reception to glance up and raise an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry, were you waiting for a doctor?" she asked kindly.
Lovino just shook his head. Although perhaps it was a good idea to get a CAT scan, just to be sure he didn't have a brain injury and wasn't losing his mind. He was so tired…
"Do you know anything about a patient who came in here a couple of hours ago?" Lovino asked, standing, wincing and walking up to the nurse. "Antonio Carriedo something. He almost drowned."
She stared at him for a moment, but then her face brightened. "Ah, right. You're the fellow who dragged him out of the water. Exceptionally brave, I must say."
Lovino turned scarlet instantly. He couldn't take compliments like this well. He could accept them if they had anything to do with the chocolate he made, but if random ladies started calling him 'exceptionally brave', well, he'd prove them wrong by running the hell away.
"Uh, thanks," Lovino mumbled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head and averting his eyes. "Anyway, do you know how Antonio's doing?"
"Oh, right, hold on a moment." She tapped something on her computer, said nothing for a few seconds, and then looked up with a smile. "You should be able to visit him now."
"Really?" The thought made Lovino's insides go cold. As though he wasn't feeling damp and shivering already. What would he say to Antonio? What would Antonio say to him? Was there some sort of script he was supposed to stick to? Lovino knew how to visit people in hospital—he'd done that a lot during his grandfather's last days—but that had been more emotional and personal and all about wrapping up the old man's affairs. What would he say to Antonio, a man he barely knew, but had saved the life of? A simple hey, how are you, by the way I pulled you out of the water, wouldn't quite do, would it?
Why wasn't there a manual for this?
How to Save A Life: What to Do, What to Say, What to Think
Maybe he ought to write one.
"Yes, really!" the nurse replied, before rattling off his room number.
"But isn't only family allowed to visit?"
"Honey, he wouldn't even be breathing right now if it weren't for you. I think you can go in."
"…All right."
So, slowly, hating each step he took, Lovino dragged himself to the elevator. He tried to focus on the ache in his body. It would distract him from the inevitable and potentially disastrous conversation that was to follow.
The hospital was just as he remembered it from all those years ago. Nothing much had changed, except for the fresh coat of paint on the walls. His grandfather's room had been a few floors above Antonio's. Lovino remembered bringing little squares of chocolate for the old man. He was still learning back then. Opening the chocolate shop had been his grandfather's dream, one that never came true. It was during those last months that Lovino had finally saved enough money to start one. He'd try out new recipes and offer it to the other patients.
And that was what chocolates became to him.
Seeing all those sick, dying people light up whenever Lovino brought over some…
Lovino treasured and missed his earliest customers.
Antonio's room was at the very end of the corridor. He swallowed before walking up to it.
But before he could open the door, a tall, lean man with long ponytailed black hair stepped out of the room, his face freezing in surprise as he almost collided head-on into Lovino. "Oh! Sorry!" He was wearing a white coat and had a stethoscope around his neck.
"No, it's my mistake." Lovino stepped aside. "Are you Antonio's doctor?"
"The young man?" the doctor asked, glancing to the half-open room door. "Yes. I'm Dr. Yao Wang. I understand you saved his life?"
"Word travels fast," Lovino muttered, looking away.
"It sure does. Are you here to visit him? Visiting hours are long over, you know. And you're not even family."
"The receptionist said I could," Lovino weakly replied, already feeling attacked under Dr. Wang's clinical stare.
The man sighed softly, glancing once more to the room. "He's unconscious, anyway."
Lovino's heart stopped for a moment. "Is he all right, though?"
Dr. Wang just shrugged. "He's out of the woods. Stable, for now."
"Oh," Lovino replied simply. "That's good." What else could he say?
Dr. Wang placed Lovino under another long, analytical look. He seemed to be thinking about something. Lovino could actually see conflict flitting through his dark eyes. Dr. Wang looked tired too. He seemed to be the sort of man who was always tired about something. Then again, it couldn't be an easy job. Working a nightshift in a quiet town like this? It must have been so frustrating. Nothing much ever happened here. Antonio almost dying was perhaps the most exciting thing that had happened to the doctor all week.
"I guess you can see him," Dr. Wang finally muttered, pushing open the room door fully. "Just for five minutes. And don't disturb him in any way."
How the hell was Lovino supposed to disturb someone who looked like a corpse? Antonio was gaunt. It was no wonder Lovino had been able to pull the man out of the water so easily. Thin, bony, his skin sheet-white and his brown curls falling like an unhealthy mop over his eyes. He lay completely still. Had it not been for the monitor quietly beeping away, Lovino wouldn't even have guessed he was alive.
Antonio also had an oxygen mask on his face, an IV dripping something transparent into his blood. Lovino couldn't figure out what to do? Stare at him? Talk to him? Walk out? He'd been dreading about having a conversation with the man, but now that Antonio was in no shape to talk, he just felt awkward.
It was like puzzle pieces that didn't fit. He didn't belong here. All he could do was stare at the guy and think, I saved someone's life. I've done something significant. He's alive because of me.
…Or because of sheer luck, who knew? Lovino had no idea what he'd been doing after he'd pulled Antonio out of the water. It had been a blur of CPR (learnt entirely from TV shows) and praying to the gods of all religions.
"I should learn this first-aid stuff properly," he whispered out loud.
What a crazy wake-up call.
Lovino hadn't been prepared to save Antonio.
It had been luck.
Dr. Wang's face slowly peered at Lovino from behind the door, and the man gave Lovino a curt nod.
Lovino turned back to Antonio for a moment. "…See you tomorrow, I guess," he mumbled quietly, spinning on his heels with his hands in his pockets as he softly walked out of the room.
—comes the sun, little darling, here comes the sun,
And I say, it's all right,
Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter,
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here,
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
And I say it's all right—
"It's NOT fucking all right!" Lovino shouted, still barely awake. His words were heavy and slurred, so it sounded more like, 'Ss not fugging allriaii!' His arm flailed out, his muscles screaming in pain as he hit the mobile phone singing away on his nightstand. His attempt to switch off the alarm and go back to sleep however, backfired. His hand knocked the phone over, and it simply flipped as it crashed to the floorboards, still yelling at the top of its head about how it was all right that the sun was out and everything was fine and dandy and let's all wake up and be best friends.
"God, shut up, John…" Lovino groaned, burying his head under his pillow. Why did it have to be the Beatles version? Felicia had clearly changed his alarm tune again. He'd never let himself wake up to a Beatles song every morning. He'd end up hating the band forever if he did.
Oh no, this had Felicia written all over it. She liked to start her day with positivity and happiness, and sometimes got it into her head that Lovino should do the same. So she'd snatch his phone when he wasn't looking, and reset his alarm tune from Greenday's Boulevard of Broken Dreams to something about sunshine and smiling and happiness and rainbow unicorns or whatever Felicia was in the mood for at that moment.
It wasn't like Lovino had set a Greenday song as his alarm because he was angsting about something. But the guitar and the drums and that guy's loud unhappy voice woke him up in a better mood than cheery crap ever did.
He ran a fucking chocolate shop. There wasn't much to be angsting over, really.
"Oh god."
The chocolate shop.
The cacao beans from Ecuador.
What time was it!?
At once, Lovino shot out of bed and dove for his phone, which was still yelling on and on about sun, sun, sun, here it comes, and switched it off. When the mobile went blissfully quiet, Lovino blinked, pressing his eyes to see stars. Doing that always woke up for at least a few seconds.
His mobile quietly told him: 9.30 AM.
"Oh god."
Forget the delivery boys, who were supposed to be there by eight, nine thirty was when the shop was supposed to open for business.
How had he overslept? Why did his body hurt so much? Lovino wasn't just wake-up-in-the-morning tired, he was I-can't-walk-someone-carry-me tired. Also, whose clothes was he wearing?! He couldn't recognise this tacky red shirt or those scruffy jeans. Lovino would never—
Oh.
Suddenly, everything came rushing back to him, the memories almost physically knocking him over and onto the bed again. Emma. The hand in the water. The hospital. Antonio.
Had all of that been real? Lovino half expected Emma to walk to the bedroom wearing nothing but her underwear and a catlike smile, saying, "You passed out after we…you know." And then Lovino would have realised all of it was just an intensely messed up dream.
But there was something fundamentally wrong with this theory. Lovino would never just pass out after sex. He was Lovino, for crying out loud. Saving someone else's life was a good enough alternative to that, so he'd take it.
He couldn't waste any more time, though. Lovino bolted out of bed as fast as he could, grabbed the first outfit he could find and ran to the bathroom.
Lovino had the advantage of owning an apartment less than two minutes away from Theobroma Cacao. It wasn't a very fancy apartment, but he still really liked it. It was old—the whole building was old—with wooden floorboards and creaking doors. There were two bedrooms. One was Lovino's, and the other used to be Feli's, before she decided to move out and live with Ludwig instead. Lovino's favourite part of the house was the window in the living room—or rather, the metal awning right outside it. It was wide and long, and exactly at the level of the window. On long nights, Lovino would pour himself a glass of wine and climb out there, sitting for hours and hours, sometimes until the sun rose. Though he didn't live very high up, from there he could see the horizon and the rest of the town. It was magic.
Right now, he barely even glanced at it.
He just ran out of the bathroom with his shirt buttons messed up, and dove for the first shoes he could find: an ugly pair of floaters someone had given to him as a birthday gift. And then Lovino almost flew out of the apartment, taking the stairs (there was no elevator) three at a time, exiting the building and then running around the corner, where his precious shop rested between the ATM and the salon.
All the lights were on and the shop windows were dressed up as usual. Ivan was in. Lovino flung open the door, simultaneously shouting, "I'm here! I'm here!"
Which would be fine, if he hadn't been greeted with complete silence.
Lovino buckled, hands on his knees as he groaned in pain and panted for air. Why was he so unfit? His muscles were aching even more today.
The shop looked like it was ready for work, but the counter was completely unmanned (something that irritated Lovino enormously). The door behind the counter, labelled Authorised Personnel Only was shut. Lovino walked around the glass display case and pushed the door open. It was unlocked. Ivan definitely was here.
"Ivan?" he called out.
The kitchen.
The kitchen was the love of his life.
If it was legal, he would marry the kitchen.
She was absolutely gorgeous—she, not it. Her tiles were pristine white, like her walls. She had these beautiful metallic counters and platforms, and was stocked with the most graceful sort of heavy machinery there ever was. Equipment for roasting and winnowing, stone grinders and conches, machines for tempering…there was even an entire cupboard full of moulds, and a freezer to make the chocolate cool.
God, Lovino was so in love with her. She was the most beautiful thing in his whole life. She was the reason for his existence.
She was his kitchen.
"Ivan?" he called gently. He wasn't here either, even though all the machines were running. Lovino loved the sound they made, the whirring and the chugging and the humming, and all the smells in this kitchen. Lovino's nose had lost sensitivity to the scent of chocolate (he'd been doing this for a very long time…), but sometimes when he inhaled very sharply he could pick up a slight whiff. It could keep him happy for hours.
There was only one place Ivan would be. Lovino walked down the length of the kitchen towards a smaller door titled Toilet, and softly knocked. "You in there?"
No answer.
But a second later, Lovino heard the flush and suddenly, Ivan had stepped out.
"I hate talking when I'm in the loo," he explained happily.
"Too much information."
"Good morning, Lovino!" Ivan said in response, shutting the bathroom door behind him and walking towards the machines. "You look awful, you know that, right?"
It unnerved Lovino how Ivan could say these things with that same cheerful smile on his face. "I know," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. He really needed to sleep. "I've had a long, dramatic night."
"Dramatic?" Ivan asked, raising his eyebrow slightly as he peered into the tempering machine, watching the liquefied chocolate slosh around. He scratched the papery cap over his head (Lovino always stressed on keeping the head covered. This was a professional kitchen, after all) before saying, "Everything okay?"
"I guess," Lovino replied.
"Your head is uncovered."
"Goddammit." The first thing Lovino did was rush to the cupboard by the kitchen's entrance and pull out his own cap and apron. Once his hair was tucked away, "Did the delivery guys show up?"
"Yes," Ivan replied without looking at him. "I inspected the beans, since you weren't there. They were perfect. I signed the papers and everything." Gesturing to another door across the floor, he said, "I've kept them in the storage room. Would you like to have a look?"
"Yes." Great. This was exactly what he'd wanted to avoid. Now he'd missed his chance to inspect the beans. What if Ivan had missed something? What if they were not as good as Lovino wanted them to be?
"Oh, Lovino, wait!" Ivan called out before Lovino could even take one step in any direction. "Before I forget, your sister called. She said she's coming home in two hours. She had to leave earlier because apparently Ludwig's boss called for an urgent meeting and he had to run. Interrupted their holiday. She was really upset about that."
"She'll get over it," Lovino muttered tersely, making for the storage room. "Anything else?"
"Uh, let me think. There was something…oh yeah. I got a call from one of the applicants. I don't remember his name. The one with the really scary tattoos. I told him you hadn't decided yet."
It seemed like the only people who'd applied to their Help Wanted ad in the papers were bored housewives, ex-convicts and teenage girls with nasally, high voices.
"Just between you and me," Lovino replied, glancing at Ivan for a moment, "All of them suck."
Ivan laughed. "Yes! Remember that one who tried to threaten you in the job interview? I had a good time punching his face."
Lovino had tried very hard to repress that memory. It wasn't so much being threatened that was scary. With Lovino's mouth, he was surprised he hadn't been threatened more often, actually. It was the sheer joy on Ivan's face as he pounded the guy's teeth in before physically lifting him off the ground and dropping him outside. That was the actual scary part. Lovino suppressed a shudder.
"Oh, and there's one more thing." Now, Ivan's tone became a little graver. He blinked at Lovino worriedly, his blue eyes—purple, in the right lighting—clouding over with concern. "Alfred stopped by when he was making rounds."
"Oh?" Lovino bit the inside of his cheek. "Did he drop by my books? He said he would."
"No, I don't think he did. But he told me to tell you that he's going to check in at the hospital during lunch, and would you like to join him, since you were so fantastic yesterday." Ivan blinked again, taking a step closer to Lovino. "Tell me the truth. Are you sick? Are you dying? Is Alfred dying?"
"Hell no," Lovino replied quickly, his eyes going wide. "Nobody's dying, okay? Alfred's talking about what happened last night." Lovino paused, wondering whether to tell him. But then, Ivan seldom made a big deal out of things. He wasn't Felicia. "I was coming back from Emma's place when I saw someone drowning and saved them. Alfred has to write an incident report and speak to the guy firsthand, but the man was still unconscious. I don't think I'm supposed to sit in when Alfred speaks to Antonio—that's his name—but I guess if he's inviting me, I can go, right? It's not against the law, is it?"
Ivan just stared. "Oh, wow. You weren't kidding when you said you had a dramatic night."
"I'm your regular superhero," Lovino quipped. "Don't tell Felicia. She'll make it into this big…thing."
"But it is a big deal, you know?"
Lovino shrugged. "I'm going to go check on those beans now."
Ivan's face brightened at that. "They're a work of art. You'll see."
They really were.
They were in jute sacks. The store room was full of beans and equipment and stacks of boxes and foil, but his eyes fell on the two huge brown sacks right in the middle of the room. The air was cool and dry. That was important, he didn't want anything getting mouldy. He undid the rope around the sacks and just gazed at what he saw.
The smell was overwhelmingly bitter. When he touched them, they felt like soft pieces of polished wood. The colour was perfect. Deep coppery brown, delicate speckles of black.
"How are they?" Ivan asked when Lovino stepped out and quietly shut the storage room door behind him.
"They're perfect."
Ivan's grin was infectious. Lovino caught himself smiling slightly too. "We've worked so hard on this recipe. I'm almost terrified to try it. I mean, it's beautiful in theory, but what if it ends up sucking?"
"It won't suck," Ivan promised. "You've applied your chocolaty genius to it, after all."
Chocolaty genius. Ivan made Lovino sound like a character on Mickey Mouse and Friends. He just shook his head slightly. "Let's just start work."
Lovino was so proud of his business model. It was so diverse! Theobroma Cacao didn't just sell finished chocolate. It also sold speciality items like Roasted Nibs or baker's chocolate. In fact, Lovino basically supplied to half the bakeries in the town and even a few in the city. In addition to that, the shop had a series of regular customers by way of offices and waiting rooms. They always needed something to keep people patient, and a box of chocolate on offer was the perfect way to calm people down. There was an old lady a few streets away who had too much money to spend and liked to have a monthly supply of Lovino's fanciest truffles. They even did deliveries to birthday parties and weddings.
The demand was great. There was only one problem. Ever since Ivan's older sister Katyusha quit, they'd been desperately short-staffed. Katyusha was married and expecting a baby, and she hadn't wanted to work while pregnant. Though Lovino had been obliged to offer maternity, she'd just handed in her resume. She preferred being a mother. And although Lovino couldn't fathom why anyone would give up chocolate for a screaming, mewling shit-maker, there was nothing he could do about it.
For the next few hours, Ivan worked in the kitchen while Lovino sat outside at the counter, waiting for customers. Probably for the best, since his body really ached. All he could think about was last night. Antonio. Was he conscious now? Was he doing all right?
He had to visit him. Alfred had asked him to come during the lunch break, so that was what he would do. He had to speak with Antonio. Not knowing was deeply unsettling. Lovino felt like he'd formed a bond or something, pathetic as that sounded. He couldn't stop thinking about Antonio's sick, gaunt figure lying on that hospital bed like a corpse. He couldn't help thinking, you've got to be okay. You can't die, because I saved your life. That's got to matter. It had to matter. It just had to.
Nothing Lovino did really mattered much. He loved his chocolate shop to pieces, but he couldn't help shaking off the feeling that what he did didn't make a difference to anyone's lives. Not really.
"I just ran into Alfred on my way here. How could you not tell me? Lovi, he's so right! You're a hero! I want to give you a hug! Get over here!"
Oh god, Feli was back.
Lovino's sister was a head shorter than him, amber eyes and auburn hair always tied up in a messy ponytail. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a floral top, a charm bracelet jingling away to the rhythm of her smile. She practically pounced on Lovino, dropping her overnight bag in a heap on the floor, her bony but incredibly firm grip making his body scream for her to let go. Everything still hurt too much.
"Feli, it's really—"
"A very big deal! You saved someone from dying. You gave them a second chance to achieve all their hopes and dreams and fall in love and have children and—"
"I can't brea—"
She kissed both his cheeks and let out a noise that sounded like a chirp and a squeal. "Are you going to visit him? Now? You should take some chocolates to cheer him up! Oh, can I come? Please?" She finally let go of Lovino, who groaned as he fell back into his seat. "Was it really dangerous? Alfred made it seem like you fought the Loch Ness Monster to rescue him."
"Yeah, because the Loch Ness Monster would hang out in a weird little river in a weird little town."
Felicia laughed. "But seriously, the current is always so strong. It couldn't have been easy."
"It wasn't. Everything still hurts."
Feli gave him this long look. "You should go get a massage, that might help. I know this guy, Sadik, he owns this massage parlour. Do you want me to book an appointment for you?"
"There is no way I'm letting some strange guy touch me." Lovino wasn't that easy. Feli just laughed again.
"They have women too," Feli teased.
"I've got a girlfriend, but thanks for asking." Speaking of Emma. He hadn't texted her all day. After deserting her last night, Lovino knew he was going to have to work extra hard to get into her good books. He took out his phone, typing in something flirty and inappropriate before hitting send. No doubt Emma would reply with something equally lewd. Or maybe she'd respond with a winking face and hearts and kisses and stuff.
(These emoji things made his life difficult. They were so vague.)
Feli didn't even go into the kitchen and work, like she was supposed to. No, she merely washed her face before stepping out again saying, "Lovi, we're going to the hospital, right?"
"What? Already?"
"It's almost lunchtime!"
Lovino didn't know what to expect this time as he walked down the length of the hallway. Felicia was strangely quiet. She didn't like hospitals much, though. The whole 'Grandpa Has Cancer' thing had pretty much sealed her aversion to them forever. She stuck close to Lovino, her hand almost touching his, and as Lovino was about to open the room door, she said, "I'll wait outside. Wouldn't want to overwhelm him, right?"
"Up to you." Lovino could hear Alfred's voice from behind the door. At least he wouldn't be alone.
Alfred turned when Lovino entered, smiled widely, and stepped aside—just enough for Lovino to see Antonio.
Antonio was conscious. He had green eyes, almost like some sort of lime jelly praline filling, which stood out shockingly against his otherwise paper-white skin. Now awake, Antonio looked, if possible, even thinner. Actually undernourished. His face was sallow and his collarbone jutted out so sharply it could probably have cut a full bar of frozen baker's chocolate all the way through. His hair was this sort of pleasant hazel brown colour, although overgrown and messy. His fingers were long, thin and delicate, especially the way he kept them right now: over his lap, gently tugging at the corner of his blanket.
"Lovino!" Alfred called out. "We were just talking about you. Meet Toni!"
Lovino swallowed, closed the door behind him, but didn't approach the bed at all. He just stared frozen still at Antonio, who mirrored his blank expression. They just looked at each other, utterly wordless. It was finally Antonio who spoke.
"Hi." His voice was soft, extremely hoarse and very pained. It was so obvious that speaking hurt him.
"Hi," Lovino said back, finally taking one step towards the bed. "How are you feeling?"
Antonio offered a small, tired smile. "Better than yesterday."
Alfred chuckled. "Sense of humour. I like that."
Lovino watched Antonio give Alfred a lopsided smile. Then he turned back to Lovino and said, "Alfred was telling me what you did."
In an instant, Lovino felt his cheeks become warm. Antonio was looking at him with such gentleness, such soft-featured gratitude. The expression was too much to handle. Lovino lowered his eyes, pulling at his sleeves just for something to do. He hated it when the attention went straight on him. It was strange, but there were two sides to his shyness. Part of Lovino loved to have the attention on him. It was this part that came out with Emma, or his customers, or well, anyone who had anything to do with his chocolate shop. But when people like Alfred—or now, Antonio—stared at him like that, it made him feel small, vulnerable, awkward. He wasn't used to situations where people looked at him that tenderly. He never knew what to do in them.
"It was nothing," Lovino replied in a small voice.
"You saved my life," Antonio pressed, although he sounded more pained now. His hand went up to touch his throat lightly. "It's not nothing."
"You shouldn't talk so much if talking hurts," Lovino replied, lifting his gaze to meet Antonio's. This was easier. Telling people what to do.
Antonio actually laughed, although it sounded more like a shaky cough. Alfred gave him a pointed look. "Lovino's right. It's my fault—I had to talk to you about last night, so that must have exerted you, huh? But just take it easy for now."
"Oh yeah," Lovino said suddenly, his voice rising. Both Antonio and Alfred looked at him, identical expressions of curiosity. "What happened last night? How did you fall into the water?"
"Nuh-uh," Alfred said quickly, a cheeky grin and a jolt of mischief in his eyes. "That's a secret between Toni and I. Ain't that right, Toni?"
"No, it's okay. He saved my life. He deserves to kn—" but Antonio's body had had enough. He doubled over, clutching his chest as he coughed. They were awful hacking coughs that made Lovino think of smoke and fire and desert sand. Alfred had jumped into action, sitting by Antonio and rubbing his back. He gestured for the glass of water placed on the bedside table, and Lovino handed it to him, his brow creasing in worry.
When Antonio finally calmed down, Alfred had to actually wrap an arm around his shoulders to hold him up. Antonio looked about ready to pass out, but somehow still managed a smile as Alfred handed him the water. What must it have been like to almost die in water, and then have to drink it to feel better? What did Antonio make of that?
"Thank—"
"No, shut up," Alfred almost snapped, his eyes hard. He had that I'm a cop so you better listen to me expression on his face. "You just lie here and rest. I don't want to hear a word out of you for the next two hours, you got that?"
Antonio just blinked and nodded, the smile never fading. He fell back against the pillows. He looked like he wanted to go to sleep, but didn't want to seem rude.
"You can sleep if you want to," Lovino offered, not knowing what else do say or do. He felt completely useless.
"Yeah, don't worry." Alfred stood. "I need to step outside and make a call, anyway. Lovino?" he looked at him with an expression that was supposed to be very meaningful and symbolic.
So when Alfred stepped out of the room, Lovino followed him without a word of protest.
"You want to tell me how the fuck he fell into the water?" Lovino asked. Felicia was still standing outside, a frown on her face as she twirled the end of her ponytail between her fingers. After Feli and Alfred had exchanged hugs and stupid questions like, so I've heard you moved in with Ludwig, huh? and How has Kiku been doing lately? Alfred had sighed and slumped against the wall, taking out his glasses and rubbing them against his shirt. He was still in uniform, although it looked crumpled and untidy—very unusual. Alfred loved keeping his uniforms pristine.
"It's a bit of a situation," Alfred said simply when he put his glasses back on his nose. "As in, it's a situation because I like the guy and I feel really concerned about him."
"What happened?" Feli asked, her voice high and full of fear.
"He fell into the water as he was crossing one of the bridges. And get this, Lovino—he fell in because he was dizzy."
"What the fuck? Dizzy?"
"Yeah. Because he hadn't eaten anything in almost a week!" at this, Alfred threw his hands up in the air.
"What?" Feli asked, her expression changing rapidly from fear to shock. "Why not?"
"He's homeless," Alfred replied.
"That makes no sense." Lovino just gave Feli a tired look before adding, "He had a credit card. Remember? Last night?"
"Yeah, I asked him about that. He told me that it had been damaged ages ago. Not in the water last night, like we'd thought. I basically got the impression he was fairly well-off sometime in his past."
"Oh."
"Oh," Feli copied, slumping against the wall beside Alfred. "That's terrible. I hope he's eaten something now?"
"Yeah, he basically inhaled the food they gave him for lunch. It's gross hospital food, too." Alfred grimaced to show his disdain before continuing, "What sucks is his parents moved to Spain and he's not close with them."
"What about other family? Friends? Anyone? I mean, you can't have lived up to adulthood without knowing somebody who can help you out!" Lovino threw his hands up before letting them fall, the whole gesture making his arms and shoulders ache terribly. "I mean, come on!"
Alfred just sighed. He looked so sad. He always did that, internalising the pain of other people. "No friends, no family."
"That's harsh," Feli said quietly, looking at her feet. Her toes stuck out of red heels. After a short silence, she looked up again, tilting her head and asking, "May I say hello?"
"I don't know, Feli. He looked like shit. He might be asleep."
Feli just placed a hand on Lovino's elbow, her fingers barely brushing against his shirt as she smiled softly and nodded. It was one of those typical cryptic but reassuring smiles Feli gave before she made Lovino's life difficult.
"I got you a present."
Lovi was right. Antonio did look pretty bad. That's what she hated most about hospitals. How people just had to lie there in these unfriendly rooms full of scary, painful equipment, feeling weak and unwell. At least it was bearable when family and friends were around, but Antonio had nobody.
He wasn't asleep. He was just lying there, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't figure out what he'd be thinking of. But when she entered and spoke to him, he looked up, a little confused, and offered a small, exhausted smile. It seemed to light up his whole face.
"I'm Felicia. Lovino's younger sister."
"Hel—" Antonio managed before his voice broke. A hand flew to his throat and he winced, rubbing it gently.
"No, it's okay! Don't push yourself!"
He looked up at that point, giving her another smile and a questioning look as she approached. A hand dipped into the sling bag around her shoulder and she pulled out a small drawstring pouch. It was gossamer and silver, and in it were a set of five little milk chocolate squares covered in gold aluminium foil.
"They're chocolates," she told him simply, placing them on the bedside table. "I don't know if I'm allowed to give them to you, but chocolates always make me feel better, you know?"
Felicia had a sixth sense. She had this ability to guess a person's favourite chocolate flavour just by speaking to them for a few minutes. Sometimes she could pick flavours that they themselves didn't know they liked. But then she'd make them try it, and they'd fall in love. Feli had never been wrong before.
The milk chocolate always acted like a tester. Milk chocolate was delicious, but generic. Common. It was everywhere. Not to say that people who's favourite kind was milk chocolate were generic or common themselves—nobody was ever that simple—but it was always the safest thing to give to someone.
Antonio's face lit up. He gave her a wide grin. He really did have a nice smile!
"You're welcome," Feli told him with a grin on her face too. "I hope you like them. You know, Lovi made them himself! He makes chocolates! Well, I do too, but Lovi's technically the owner of the shop. And he's also the best chocolatier ever. Way better than me."
She studied the way his face changed when she spoke. First curiosity, then awe. He really was so cute.
"Anyway," she said, "I better go now. But Lovi and I will come visit you tonight? How about it?"
Antonio was about to open his mouth to try and say something, but Felicia quickly said, "No, don't! I could hear you coughing before. You really should rest your throat." A smile. "Feel better, okay?"
So Antonio just meekly nodded.
"Good! See you soon! I hope you like the chocolates!"
"You're quiet."
In the drive back home, Felicia hadn't said a word. It was just a fifteen minute journey really, but Feli could fill that up with idle conversation effortlessly. Now, she just stared out of the window, completely mute.
"Feli?" Lovino prompted, glancing at her. Did this have something to do with her leaving the nature retreat thing early? Lovino would murder Ludwig if he'd hurt her. He'd beat him to death with a tire iron.
"Hmm?" she mumbled, looking towards Lovino. "Nothing…I was just thinking."
"What about?" Lovino parked the car in front of the chocolate shop, but neither of them stepped out. Felicia sighed loudly, lowering her eyes to her lap. She flexed her fingers, studying her nail polish before saying, "I have an idea you're going to utterly hate."
"What?" Lovino asked, his stomach filling up with dread. The last time she'd said that, she'd announced her decision to move in with Ludwig.
She looked up, staring right into Lovino's eyes. This can't possibly be good, he thought, staring right back at her. "Well," she started, "We need another employee and you don't like any of the applicants. Antonio needs a place to stay and maybe even a job…"
"No."
"But—"
"We're not talking about this. No." Lovino threw open the car door, stepped out and slammed it shut. He knew he was being mean, but Feli couldn't possibly be serious, could she? What did they even know about Antonio, huh? Who was to say he wasn't a thief, a murder, a drug addict? Felicia romanticised people so much. She only ever saw the best in them, to the point where it was honestly reckless.
Besides, fundamentally, Antonio probably didn't know how to make chocolate. It sounded like one of those cutesy things like making pancakes or something, but it wasn't. There were plenty of recipes and tricks on the internet, but it was so much more than that. Making chocolate wasn't something anybody could learn overnight. It took years to perfect. To know what beans to choose, to know just how much to roast and winnow them, to know when to stop tempering, how to treat the moulds, how to add the flavours, it was an entire science in and of itself.
Quality was absolutely essential to Lovino. Why even bother doing something if you weren't going to give it your hundred percent? He wasn't going to jeopardise his precious business for Felicia's goddamn charity.
It simply wasn't going to happen.
You lived.
I'm so sorry. I tried. I tried. I—
Try again.
Roderich, I—I don't want to—this isn't who I want to be—
You're miserable, aren't you? You miss me, don't you?
I do! I do! I miss you so much. I love you! But—
And it's your fault I'm dead.
Oh god, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I—I'll never forgive myself. Please, please—
Please let you go? But I can't. You have to let ME go, Antonio. And you don't want to do that, do you?
…You're everything to me.
Then join me. Join me, darling.
…But I don't want to die.
You're enormously selfish for someone who killed your own fiancé.
Roderich—!
You make me sick.
A/N: This started out when I suddenly thought about how cool it would be for Lovino to make chocolate. Chocolatier!Lovino is something I need in my life. It's something the universe needs, okay? And then you have Antonio, who is, of course, damaged. Because I can't possibly write a Spamano where he is healthy. It's not right. Antonio has to be vulnerable.
Oh, um, when I say 'praline', I mean Belgian pralines, not American ones. Belgian pralines have fillings inside them.
Eh, we'll get to that scene later in the fic xD
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! I was going to make it longer, but this seemed like the perfect place to stop. Anyway, it's pretty long already (over 9k words!). Thanks for reading! Please review :D
P.S: Oh, and are you craving chocolate right now? ;D Muhahaha...
