Florence, Italy

The enormous theater swelled with applause and the lights dimmed to a beautiful and romantic yet suspenseful atmosphere. Lovino squinted to see his brother walk onto stage as people continued to cheer him on, tails gracefully swaying off behind him. He made his way to the center of the stage and stepped onto his small podium, his shiny shoes clicking on the wooden material. Then he turned and faced the orchestra in front of him that was at perfect attention.

"Would it have killed you to wear a jacket?" Romulus, their grandfather, leaned over and whispered in Lovino's ear.

"I don't know. Would it have killed you to comb your hair?" He shot back making Roma chuckle, almost silently. "Besides, I go to just about everyone of his shows… that gives me plenty an excuse to not wear a jacket."

"Shut up, its starting."

Feliciano lifted his hands, bringing the audience to the edge of their seats. And many would agree that there are few moments in the world such as this one, similar to holding your breath in anticipation for the unknown. He brought his baton down and gave two beats before starting the song with a strong downbeat. Several slow notes blasted and filled the theater to the brim with sweet, music-filled air and it almost seemed that the audience sighed with relief. It almost made the world smell sweet with the scene he was creating simply by sound. Lovino didn't have to see his face to know that Feliciano had his eyes closed accompanied by the kindest smile as he hummed silently along to the music. His hands fluttered naturally through the air and the curls of his hair bounced along with him when he rolled on the balls of his feet, matching the tone of the music. Lovino by now had memorized his behavior when conducting. He knew how much feli loved music since he composed and conducted his own.

Feliciano had never imagined, not in a million years, he'd be able to do what he loved. It took him ages and ages to gather up enough skilled musicians and convince them to be apart of his orchestra. At first it was only a trumpet player, a flutist, two violinist, one basoone and a harp player. He wrote music that only called for such instruments and astounded even himself when he managed to create music that sounded just as pleasant as if a normal, full orchestra would play it. He rehearsed in an old theater after closing time, which was sometime about midnight. He managed to convince the owner to let him do so if he agreed to sweep the floors and dust the theater equipment afterwards. Of course he never asked his orchestra to help, but they soon noticed how he was always the last to leave and assisted no matter how Feliciano protested. Regardless of the help, he still always made it home around 1-2am. Romulus was surprised the musicians were willing to practice so late and not even be able to perform at anywhere worth while. But Feliciano always argued: "Grandpa! Musicians are dirt poor and have nothing to lose. It's what makes them such wonderful people."

It took some extra elbow grease to get the owner to let Feliciano and his six person orchestra play one night, but with a little more free labor and a potential bribing that never actually happened, he finally let the group perform late one night. Feliciano had felt his dreams were coming true and he knew it was silly to think so, but this was all he had thought of for his whole life. Music was just that important.

The night before his big show he was so excited, he couldn't stomach any food. And though Lovino was extremely proud of his baby brother, he couldn't stand to talk about it too much, as he was incredibly jealous. Who wouldn't be, though?

When the dreaded, nerve-racking, wonderful, career-making, most anticipated and important night of Feliciano's life came, people were doubtful and terribly nervous the moment the few musicians took their place on stage. Scattered and confused applause took place when feli proudly sauntered onto stage, happy with himself for how far he had come. He made the embarrassing move of waving a small wave when he spotted his grandfather and Lovino in the crowd. Roma thinks it was adorable and Feliciano begs him to forget it.

The moment feli counted off the orchestra and the first note rang out, he managed to have every person present hooked. Feliciano's mind was dancing with the same vision, same sights he saw every time he played this song, every time it was practiced, just like at rehearsals. It was the same thing and the same way he imagined he would feel if he one day traveled to the beaches of Ireland. The turquoise waves fading beautifully into a white foam that is strikingly similar to the foam a gorgeous goddess of love was born from. The waves as they crashed into the sand, glistening and dazzling so brightly in the sun, it could blind you, and you'd thank it. He managed to effortlessly create color and smell and sight in his music, so everyone could see what he was seeing. Romulus was in tears by the ending and the few people who attended were completely astonished. Many skeptics gave a friendly nod to Feliciano and his family afterwards and few audience members came up and shook his hand, telling him he did a fine job for his first show. Feliciano couldn't have been more ecstatically happy. Though barely anybody came, they enjoyed it, and it inspired him.

Within the following months, many musicians who recognized him came up to him in the streets and asked for a job. He described their begging as nonchalant but he could tell they desperately needed some money and after hearing that 'this kid wasn't half bad' they figured, what could it hurt? But whatever their reason for wanting to join his orchestra, he welcomed them with open arms. He put on two more shows with a 14 piece orchestra, and after that, three more with a 26 piece orchestra. More people naturally started to attend and his name spread around his hometown like a wildfire. He didn't know if he really liked the attention, but he was happy to be able to play music for the world nonetheless.

"This work is so tiring!" Feliciano called out one night.

"Then quit," Lovino grumbled.

The pair were sitting in silence comfortably, Lovino reading and relaxing on his own bed while Feliciano copied parts down at their one desk. He had only one more part to scribe but he had been complaining for the last few minutes about how his hand hurt so much that if he had to draw one more treble clef, his hand may just fall off. Feliciano always left the concert masters part for last because it was the most important and he was so incredibly close to finishing.

"I hope your joking," feli said, leaning back in his chair.

"What if I'm not."

"If you could just—"

"No, no! Don't you dare ask me to copy down a part! I don't know how to read music!" Lovino shouted.

"Yes you do!"

"Shut up! I'm not doing it! Remember when I tried before? I smudged the whole part! I can't use those dumb calligraphy pens…"

"Fine…"

Feliciano sighed and ruffled his hair, scratching his head before he pushed his bangs from his eyes and tucked them behind his ears. Lovino always made fun of the way it looked as neither of them looked nearly as much as themselves without their bangs, but Feliciano usually ignored him. Silence fell back in place but Lovino put his book away, setting it aside and remaining sitting up as he watched feli go back to work.

He dipped his pen in the ink bottle, tapped it a few times on the rim and drew the initial treble clef and three flats at the beginning of the fourth to last line of the music. Lovino would never admit he loved to watch his brother work. He hadn't been performing for very long, but he had been reading and writing music for as long as he could possibly remember. The way he wrote notes and key signatures were simply beautiful. It was something he envied.

By now, of course, Feliciano had managed to acquire enough members to make up a full (if not slightly overflowing) orchestra, though he had since failed to hire a scribe that wouldn't quit on the first night. He was notorious for writing unusual music and as such, one could guess that would make the job harder, but these scribes had no clue what they were getting into, for there was no warning as to how strange his music really looked. After each one quit, Feliciano was left to copy all of his musicians parts himself and occasionally, if he was lucky, he could get Lovino or Romulus to help him out if they weren't so busy or tired.

In a short period of time, Feliciano had become a full-blown sensation, managing to obtain a regular audience that was praising and kind. He often credited his success to a certain Spanish friend named Antonio the family had met just a year and a half before Feliciano's first show and two months before he got his first orchestra together. He simply told Feliciano that if he wanted to do something, "you could if you really wanted to." He was sure Antonio meant nothing much by it, as it was mainly referring to how much he traveled in the past, not his dream of becoming a musician.

They met Antonio in the marketplace, and Lovino always became squeamish at the mention of his name, which Feliciano thought hilarious. But after getting smacked upside the head one too many times, he decided to stop himself from audibly giggling. Antonio stayed with the Vargas' for six months before he left and Feliciano noticed how close he had gotten to the family.

He was a wonderful person to practice your English with even if he had the thickest Spanish accent one would ever hear in their life. He talked fast and spoke of adventure, which inspired and entertained Feliciano to no end, filling his head with bright fantasies. He loved the time that Antonio spent living with them, and he was even more delighted when he finally got to meet their parents when they returned home from their trip. Of course, he got along with them swimmingly. Which only made the day he had to leave even harder.

He wanted to cry, but he knew that his title of a crybaby would only become permanent in his family's mind, so he held his breath as he hugged Antonio goodbye. It was really only then that he noticed how tall he was. We're Spaniards all so tall? Or was he wearing heels, perhaps? Feliciano never figured it out.

The effect Antonio had on the household was something he would most likely never experience or hear about, as civil war had been raging in Spain for nearly three years. The family knew he had traveled home and was most likely safe, but they knew he wouldn't be able to leave the country until after the war. And even then, who says he'll want to leave home? Leave his family again?

Lovino bit his nails more often and Feliciano often inquired about receiving letters from Antonio, as Lovi had sent some, scattered each a few months apart and even before the war began, yet he got no response. It worried Feliciano.

December, Florence, 1938

"We must get tomatoes tonight. Dad said he'd try to help grandpa with dinner tonight and above anything else I really only think he'll let Dad make the sauce—"

"Yeah yeah whatever," Lovino stuck his nose up in the air.

"What're you looking at?" Feliciano turned.

"Anything but tomatoes."

Feliciano laughed and turned his attention back over to the stall in front of him, picking up and inspecting several tomatoes before placing them gently in his basket. "Seen too many of them lately?" He asked to which he only got a grumble back in response.

Feliciano took that as an opportunity to ramble on about different fruits and vegetables that were unusually on display at the market that day, and occasionally talk with the stall owners, attempting to haggle to get a better price. Lovino crossed his arms and eyed the square the market was set up in, scanning over the locals to whom he could all look at and give their full name. Though Florence was a big city, only the same handful of people went to the market. Feliciano nudged him with his elbow, trying to get him to talk with the vendor because he was simply way better at arguing a price down than he was, but he didn't turn.

"What're you looking at now?" Feliciano said finally, giving in and reluctantly paying full price to the impatient woman behind the array of tomatoes before turning around completely again, trying to find what on earth in the crowd Lovino had his gaze fixated on. "Look I bought the tomatoes. You're creeping me out, let's just go home."

"Sorry," Lovino looked over to him. "We need sugar, don't we? Let's go see if they have sugar somewhere."

"Oh yes! Good idea."

Lovino walked close behind Feliciano as he had become totally distracted again by the thought of sugar. He was talking a mile a minute once again about god knows what and Lovino looked around at the people in the square one last time. When they stopped at a certain stall, he noticed a few murmurs coming from some citizens nearby. Part of him wanted to waltz right over to the groups and ask what all the fuss was about, but he refrained.

"Got your sugar?" He asked once he heard the jingle of spare change be placed in the vendors hand. He nodded and Lovino watched him place the small bag in his basket with the tomatoes. "Good, Let's go home, Feliciano."

"Feliciano? Feliciano Vargas?"

"Damn."

"That's me!" Feliciano spinned on his feet to meet the vendors face again which was now sparked with delight instead of exhaustion as it had been before.

Lovino groaned at Feliciano's confirmation as to who he was. The boy often forgot how well-known he had become in such a short amount of time and how adored he was in Florence. He didn't really go out too much anymore as he was always busy copying parts or helping Romulus prep for dinner or water their flowers leaving Lovino to usually go to the market alone. Him staying inside most of the time resulted in some serious forgetfulness but saved Lovino the trouble of pulling him out of crowds of listeners.

"I went to your last show in November!" The Stall lady announced proudly as if it was an achievement. "It was truly amazing!"

"Well.. thank you so much," Feliciano said sheepishly.

"When will your next performance be? I'd like to get my ticket as soon as possible!"

"Um.. I'm not so sure about that," he fidgeted and Lovino tugged on his sleeve, growing impatient.

"Oh— well okay," the vendor smiled politely and Lovino was thanking the gods as they waved goodbye that she wasn't a loud talker because if she was, they'd be in that square for hours. And he didn't really feel like watching his younger brother be doted on for so long.

"Grandpa will be happy that we got sugar," Feliciano hummed once they were on the path home.

"Yeah."

The road back home was a pretty long one, but one that Feliciano never minded. Since he never bothered to go to town and was too busy with his scribe work, his free time was rare but always used for the same thing. He always took walks when he had the chance.

His home was sandwiched between two small mountains, carefully placed on the outskirts of the countryside of Florence. They just barely lived in that city, as walking home from the market took about an hour on foot, if you walked fast. If you walked slowly, taking in everything like Feliciano, it'd take about an hour and a half or up to two hours. Feliciano barely ever walked out this far. He would simply walk through the small field in between his and his neighbors house. It was a short walk that feli has walked at least a thousand times. Baby trees lined the road that ran next to him, further in distance from the small and broken path he walked. Lovino had always said the road was never far enough away from their house. He'd get irritated when headlights would shine through his and Feliciano's joint room window blinds and wake him up. He was a light sleeper.

The dirt path eventually disappeared into the unmowed grass between the properties and a small stream ran from under the main road and down the slope into the field. Feliciano noticed it had been growing bigger and bigger these days, which made sense as the rainfall around this time of year had been unexpectedly frequent. As soon as he reached the fence of the neighbors backyard garden, he spun around on his heels and started to make his way back home. He often bugged his grandpa about starting a garden in their backyard so they wouldn't have to go to the market so much but he didn't like the idea of spending so much money on equipment.

"Well, I could pay for it!" Feli would protest.

"Oh no no, use that money towards something worthwhile," Romulus said back.

The sky was clear and birds sung as they danced in it, heading towards the egg-like sun that slowly started to drip down into the horizon. Lovino mumbled something about making terrible time and how he needed to start leaving the house for the market earlier. Feliciano wished he wouldn't, because then he'd never get to see the sky turn into a brilliant orange that bathed the whole world in its warmth. It was his favorite time of day and he based many of his songs after these moments he spent soaking in the dying sun. He hummed and turned his face to the sky, closing his eyes momentarily until Lovino warned him that he might trip and fall.

By the time the pair made it home, the sweet yellow-orange sky had faded slowly into a beautiful and starry violet, turning black. Feliciano took one last look at the sky and tried to find a constellation before he was dragged inside by an increasingly impatient Lovino. He giggled subconsciously and closed the door behind him before he followed his brother into the kitchen.

"You really should look at the stars more often, Lovino," Feliciano remarked, putting his basket on the counter.

"It's a waste of time," he grumbled back.

"Okay. Then you should at least look at the sky more often."

"We're late for dinner.. Mom, Dad and grandpa are likely almost done. C'mon, unless you want to starve."

Feliciano rolled his eyes at his brother which made him raise a brow, inquiring a 'what' from Lovino.

"Like I'd ever let you eat my share of the food," Feliciano challenged.

"Oh really?" Lovinos eyebrows raised and so did a slight smile that only read trouble. With no other words needed, the brothers stared at each other for no more than three seconds before they suddenly bolted off and out of the kitchen doors, sprinting their way through the rather large house to the dining room. "I'd like to see you try and stop me!"

Lovino shoved Feliciano out of the way in attempt to slow him down at a corner and Feliciano slid but caught himself before he smacked into the wall and ran right after his older brother.

"Oh no you don't!" He called after him, laughing widely.

"Mmmm! Smell that?" He shouted back, trying to close all the doors he could behind him. "Smells like mom made chicken!" Lovino chuckled. "I could eat a whole two helpings of that stuff!"

"Don't you dare!"

The two boys spiraled into a fit of stuttering laughter as Feliciano chased Lovino around unnecessary obstacles. They chased and chased and ran and ran until they were both too tired to yell things at each other any more. Feliciano assumed their quick footsteps and loud banter could've been heard in the dining room, but the thought barely crossed his mind for a minute. Lovino chuckled triumphantly when he got feli to stumble by making another sharp turn and Feliciano desperately tried to catch his breath. Eventually, feliciano caught up with Lovino as he reached the dining room door and lunged at him, wrapping his arms over his shoulder from behind which caused Lovino to lurch forward and smack onward through the door in front of them. He struggled against Feliciano's offense which was more of a strong hug at this point but couldn't shake free as most of his energy was used up in the joint laughing fit the two brothers were having. Neither one of them could speak full sentences.

"Boys!" Their mother called out surprised by their sudden entrance, suppressing a giggle at the time, having to put her fork and knife down.

Grandpa Roma got up from his chair chuckling and shaking his head, as if this was a normal occurrence and walked over to the two giggling boys who now had their arms slung across each other's shoulders. It was forever ago that Feliciano got Lovino laughing like this so he cherished every moment. Lovinos laugh was one of those beautifully unique sounds that when you heard it, even if you didn't care for it, you'd try to memorize the sound. It seemed that each time they looked at each other, laughter came bubbling in their throats, and once it started, it couldn't stop. Lovino gasped for breath and sighed, straightening up when he realized Romulus had his hand on his shoulder, chuckling along.

"What on earth is so funny?" He asked.

"Lovino.." Feliciano caught his breath in between giggles. "Threatened to eat.. my chicken."

Romulus shook his head again with a smile on his face and offered them both a seat. "Don't worry. I'll be sure to keep Lovino away from your chicken." Feliciano nodded, accepting and looked past him and at the table. Two plates were prepared and held off to the side next to their father and he smiled, going off and taking a seat where he always did.

"You weren't going to eat my chicken, were you?" Feliciano asked, eyeing his father from the side with a grin, taking his plate.

"No, I wasn't," he chuckled.

"Sorry were late for dinner," Lovino said after he sat down and took a few bites, obviously feeling starved.

"That's alright," their mother smiled. "You actually made good timing. We were just finishing up talking about something important."

Romulus stiffened with an audible inhale and his eyes seemed to darken slightly and suddenly. He stood again, offering to take in everyone's plates who were done, obviously wanting to avoid the subject that was about to be brought up. Lovino watched him strangely and gulped down some water. His grandfather's not-so-subtle actions concerned him.

"What is it?" He asked worriedly.

Feliciano watched their father fidget as he started to explain, but even so, he could tell he was having trouble forming the right words to elaborate on the situation. His dark eyes darted over to Romulus momentarily once he came back into the room and took his seat, which gave him an opportunity to pause and stall. Feli could tell Lovino was growing anxious and wanted to yell for him to 'spit it out already' but he knew he'd be scolded for his disrespectful tone.

"Your mother and I have made the joint decision to move to Munich. All five of us," he said promptly and swiftly, as if he was ripping off a bandaid.

"Why?" Lovino asked immediately.

"Now Lovino—" His father warned, but got cut off.

"Why do we have to move? We've lived in Florence all our lives.. I know practically everyone that lives here. Feliciano and I have memorized every pothole, stone home and blade of grass here! What of our mail? What if we get any urgent letters?"

"Lovino—" Feliciano's eyes widened and he shook being able to tell his temper was rising, yet he cut him off again.

"And think of Feliciano! His work is here! He has to stay and work with his orchestra! Have you even thought about this?"

"Watch your tone!" His mother called out, gaining his attention and quickly silencing him. He lowered his gaze and opened his mouth to apologize but she immediately continued talking instead. "Despite what you may think, Lovino, we have thought about this and discussed this at length. We have decided that this move is what's best for everyone."

Their mother was the most sweet tempered and fair woman they knew. She smelled of honey and alway forgave and was always wise. But when Feliciano's and Lovino's mother lectured her children, her punctuation was her knife, pressing you further into guilt until you understood exactly what you did wrong so you never did it again. You could tell in her eyes that her way of discipline was certainly a method she loathed with all her heart. But she also knew that sometimes, it was necessary.

The way she spoke towards Lovino quieted him yet his face showed more than just guilt. It displayed a certain mixture of curiosity, which Feliciano noticed quickly. It was true, the strange emphasis on random words made his mind spiral.

Feliciano wanted to ask, "how could this possibly be best for everyone?" because Lovino was right, he'd have to leave his music behind. He wouldn't dare to try and ask his orchestra to move with him, he'd drown in complete guilt for uprooting their lives for his own personal gain and dream. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. His mother's words made him wonder if perhaps she knew something he didn't. Which irritated him almost as much as it irritated Lovino, who was basically overflowing with questions and accusations, but the glare from his mother and father forced his mouth shut.

"Why haven't you said anything?" Lovino turned to Romulus and his mother shot him a warning look, yet he ignored it. "What do you think? Do you think this is.. best for everyone?"

"It does not matter what I think," he answered lowly.

"What on earth are you talking about? Of course it does!"

"You're raising your voice again Lovino," his father said, phrasing it somehow like a command.

"My voice be damned! My tone be damned!" Lovino shouted, standing up and throwing his napkin onto his plate. "Why am I the only one upset? Does no one else see what a terrible idea this is?!"

"Lovino! That is enough!" Romulus stood abruptly, matching Lovinos furry and irritation with blazing eyes that could terrifiy even the coldest and strongest men the universe had to offer. He stared straight into Lovinos shocked eyes and leaned forward onto the table, the knuckles of his fists propping him up and turning white with the pressure. "We are moving. End of discussion. See to it that you and Feliciano are packed by the end of the week."

"That's so soon.. why—"

"Now, Lovino," Roma grumbled smoothly.

O

"I can't believe I was told to go to my room by my grandpa!" Lovino complained, throwing his shirts angrily into a bag. "I'm a grown man for god's sake."

Feliciano did nothing to console his brother. He knew that right now, all he wanted was to let out some frustration. Feli didn't speak at all during his rantings and he pretended to listen, as his mind was in a totally different place.

He was currently placing every composition he ever made, every spare part, every total score, into a box, packing them up for what might be for good. He held onto one last score before he placed it on top of his stack. It was a piece he had written the night after he met Antonio. The Spanish man was the source of much inspiration and many hopeful dreams for Feliciano. When he talked of his ongoing story of action and romance, it almost seemed made up. He spoke of differing cultures, arguments, starvation, bribery, tall mountains, bright skies and eyes that reminded him of them. The lands he visited were described as indescribable and untouched, almost unseen and surreal. He seemed to be able to capture anything or anyone he wanted, traveling as if money or boarders or sides didn't matter. Feliciano thought about him on occasion, wondered if he was okay, if he was injured or possibly worse. It hurt Feliciano to think that Antonio, a close friend and great explorer, was tied to a single place because of a war. Antonio's absence hit Lovino harder than it did everybody else, as he was simply the person who talked to him the most.

Lovino hardly ever wanted to talk to Feliciano about anything worthwhile but when Antonio was around, he became an open book to him. He recalled many nights when he still heard the muffled sound of voices, passionately talking about everything under the sun. The pair often spent their time getting away from Romulus' harsh smelling cooking outside and ended up chatting about anything for hours on end. Feliciano was jealous that he couldn't be closer to his own brother, but just hearing Lovinos occasional laughter through the wall made him so incredibly happy. He was happy Lovino was happy. And Antonio made Lovino happy.

"I get it!" It clicked. "I understand!"

"What are you yammering on about?" Lovino turned, face scrunched up in irritation to look at his brother, who so politely interrupted his vent.

"I know why you don't want to move!" Feliciano exclaimed, looking up at him with big eyes and a sad smile he just couldn't help.

"Apart from all the reasons I already mentioned?" Lovino rolled his eyes and feli shook his head.

"You haven't gotten a letter back from Antonio yet, have you?" Silence. He continued. "You sent a few before the civil war broke out, and then more.. but he hasn't written you back. So you're worried, and afraid," Feliciano kept talking, even as Lovino started to shake his head, close his eyes and furrow his brow. "You're scared for him! That something might have happened! And you don't want to miss a letter from him because he only has this address—"

"Shut up! Feliciano please!... Just stop.." Lovino groaned then rubbed his forehead. "You've got it all wrong. Don't be making up things in your head and then confuse them with reality." He turned away, back to his brother and a dress shirt in hand. Lovino started packing again.

Feliciano exhaled sharply, eyeing his brother irritatedly but ultimately deciding to not press the matter any further. He knew the truth, and Lovino denying it only confirmed his suspicions. Finally, Feliciano turned away and placed the last score folder in the box on his bed and taped it up, not so securely but it was the best he could do.

O

Munich, several days later

Touchy areas of the subject of moving were often avoided, mostly for Lovinos sake. He was still just trying to figure out why on earth they were moving in the first place but Feliciano was just surprised they managed to find a house in Munich. Feliciano was sure they couldn't have pulled it off in one week, so he concluded that they most likely were talking about the move for a number of months.

The journey to Germany was longer than he preferred and by the end of it, Feliciano grew tired of staring out of windows at trees and mountains and his knees ached. Which he thought could never be possible. He rolled his head back and his neck made a loud crack noise from being so stiff that even startled Lovino, who annoyingly loved cracking his knuckles. He tried to convince his older brother to play some road games with him to perhaps lift his spirits, but he didn't go for it.

"Here it is everybody!" Their father called out, placing his bag down on a nearby chair that was already there.

"Was that the previous owners downstairs?" Feliciano asked, looking around. "It doesn't seem like they're totally moved out…"

"Oh no no," Romulus spoke up. "We're sharing the house. That family downstairs lives on the first floor and we live on the second."

"Oh," Feli wrinkled his nose.

The house was rather small as it was squished into an extremely small neighborhood with only a few other houses and a bed & breakfast that also doubled as a restaurant. A small city with more establishments was conveniently located twenty minutes away by foot. One house that was further off in the hills that surrounded them was a farmhouse. Apparently, every week or so the owners would come down to the larger city and sell their crops for cheap, having pity for the poorer cities in the area. It quickly became Lovinos job to go to the city every week to pick up their groceries.

Feliciano felt totally and completely isolated in the small town, which even still seemed like too big of a name for it. Within a week of staying there, the vargas' learned everyone's names as there were only about thirty people or so who lived there. Lovino questioned constantly on how and where they found out about this place and why they didn't live closer to or in the main city, but he was always ignored or dismissed.

The upstairs of their house, where they lived, was relatively small, as was everything in this place. There was the main room which already had beaten up chairs and a small table in it and a kitchen area which one could tell was built there after the owners decided to rent out the house according to floors. The later-built walls of the kitchen weren't totally structurally sound and were a different color than the rest of the house. It smelled funny and only had a makeshift range, an icebox and a few stained counters here and there. There were two bedrooms. Romulus decided on himself that his daughter and son-in-law would get the bigger room and Lovino and Feliciano would share the second one while he slept on the couch in the common area. Neither of the rooms had anything in them but bed frames yet and Lovino mumbled something about the lack of light in the room. Feliciano didn't mind it, as their one window was boarded up with small wooden planks which somehow made him feel more secure. As he glanced around, the smell of stale crackers and dust tickled his nose and he sneezed abruptly.

Lovino seemed to not even notice as he unpacked but he stopped briefly to look around as well and his face twisted in disgust.

"No place like home," he spat out.