Hello there, guys! I decided to finally start writing something, and I'd really love to see it through to the end. I know this story doesn't really seem like much, but I've got a lot planned for it. I sincerely hope people will enjoy what I've written and I can't wait to see what kind of feedback I get. Reviews are always appreciated! I do not own Hetalia. The only character that belongs to me is Guido, who I added for the sake of the plot.

His hand carefully led the brush through its final stroke. The canvas had been thoroughly and meticulously layered with various paints over the past several hours. The picture it made up wasn't exactly a masterpiece, but it was something. One little touch up in the center, and it would be finished…

…until he jumped at the slam of a door. Lovino looked in horror at the painting. A new bright yellow smear now presented itself loud and clear atop the delicate lilac flowers. He turned on his stool to fully see his intruder. There stood none other than the one who allowed him to use the space in the first place—the only person outside his family he really talked to, Guido Moretti. Friend or not, Lovino still glared daggers at the man, who seemed to pay no mind.

"Hey, Lovino," he greeted with a bright smile. Lovino could see he was out of breath, most likely from angering a professor again. His friend had a history of barging into certain classrooms to take pictures. Every time, he was interrupting some important lecture. And every time, he would respond to the giggling girls and off-put instructors with, "I'm sorry, but your window has the absolute best view of the city," and soon was either dragged out or yelled at. This time, it seems one professor had had enough and gave chase. Lovino scoffed at his friend's antics, not bothering to reply as he let his anger begin to ebb away.

Guido pulled up a stool and gracelessly swung a leg over it. It seemed to Lovino he had at least regained some of his composure as he was now studying the painting. The painting that he made me ruin, Lovino thought bitterly. Guido nodded, his brow furrowed. "I like what you did with the, uh, yellow."

"Thanks," Lovino replied with an added eye roll. "I would've preferred for it to stay on the vase, but you apparently didn't want it that way." He gestured to the door.

Guido looked back and forth between the ruined flowers and the door a few times before mouthing a small "oh".

Lovino's glare returned, a look that many said could kill. Guido laughed nervously and quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, have you met the new art history professor yet? I hear he's already really famous with the students." He propped his elbow up on his knee and rested his chin on his palm, already brushing off the incident as if it were nothing; As if he hadn't just ruin Lovino's hard work. "He actually didn't mind when I went in to take a picture of a few girls. Told him it was for a project I'm working on."

"No I haven't, and I don't plan to." Lovino replied to the question, ignoring the fact that he was the one person in the building who didn't know of his friend's antics yet—he was in for a rude awakening. He turned his attention back to the painting and frowned. The paint was already dry, and he didn't see the point in trying to fix it. What a waste. He sighed inwardly. "I'm not even a student here anymore."

True, the only reason he came back to the university was for the extra supplies and equipment that he didn't own himself. Technically, this was Guido's room to keep his photography equipment, but he seemed more than happy to share the space with his college friend. Lovino didn't come here very often, only about once every week or so when he needed to either get out of the house or needed something specific. Today, he had just wanted to paint a vase of flowers on the windowsill he had always found to be a nice addition to the room.

"Aw, come on, you need to socialize with other people aside from me and your brother. He's only a year older than we are, so it's not like you need to talk about Da Vinci with some old dude for six hours." Guido had shifted his stool so that he could lean his back against the wall by the door. "At least tell him hi."

Lovino stood up, transferring the canvas from the easel to his bag as he spoke. "As if I'd waste my time making friends with some popular Spanish guy. I've got better things to do."

"Like painting from the broken side of your house?" Guido deadpanned.

Lovino was tired of explaining the wall to him. "It's got good lighting, okay?"

"Whatever you say."

After packing the rest of the materials he needed alongside the ruined canvas, Lovino swung the bag haphazardly onto his shoulder and gave a curt wave to his lounging friend. "Ciao. And try not to get into too much trouble this week, okay? I don't need another interrogation about the class pet they found in my bag."

"No promises," was the reply he got. And with that he closed the door to the small room and started his way down the empty hallway.

He was nearly rounding a corner when someone slammed into his chest, sending him flying backwards onto the ground. He heard a groan from the other person—a man—and immediately scowled and rubbed his back. "What the fuck are you doing running around corners for?" Lovino asked, not even trying to conceal the edge to his voice. "You knocked us both over!" The other man sat up, throwing quick apologies.

When he finally looked up, they instantly locked eyes. The Spaniard paused for a split second and shook his head. "Lo siento, where are my manners, let me help you." He stood up and extended his arm for Lovino to take, which he did after a moment of hesitation. He was still pissed off at this man and already wasn't in the mood for any sort of barriers keeping him from heading home. Watching as this stranger picked up his bag for him, he was ready to take it and quickly back out of this awkward situation. But, to his annoyance, the man held out his hand again. "My name is Antonio Fernández Carriedo, the new art history professor here." He offered a bright smile.

So this is the bastard people keep talking about? He gave him a quick once-over. To Lovino he didn't seem like anything special. A young man with a normal brown suit, unruly brown hair, and bright, friendly-looking emerald green eyes. He seemed unusually cheerful for a man who had to teach college students all day.

Lovino realized he was standing and staring at Antonio, so he took his hand and shook it. "Lovino Vargas. Just visiting."

A curious look appeared on Antonio's face. "Oh, you're not a student here?"

"I graduated two years ago, if you really have to know." Lovino was constantly being asked about his classes here and it was beginning to get on his nerves. He decided it was time to end their little session and grabbed his bag as he began to take a few steps backwards. "Look, I have somewhere to be right now, so I'll be off." He turned around, looking over his shoulder as he walked. "And word of advice, don't run in the hallway."

He managed to make it all the way to the front door without looking back, but when he did, he could see the Spaniard still standing at the corner across the hallway. He sighed and pushed the door open. There was something about the way he acted, the way he spoke.

There was something odd hidden in those eyes, he thought, walking away from the strange man and the building.