"I love you, Lovi."
They met as small children.
Lovino had been an awkward child, unsure of himself and making friends. So most days at daycare he sat quietly in the corner, building mini-cities out of blocks.
That is, until Antonio started coming to the daycare.
It was obvious that Antonio knew Gilbert and Francis, two of the more ill[-]behaved children. So Lovino immediately decided Antonio was a jerk, just like that stupid potato and 'dumb frog' (that's what the English kid had called Francis, anyway).
Imagine Lovino's surprise when Antonio laid his mat out next to Lovino's at naptime.
"What're you doing?" Lovino huffed, glaring to the best of his ability at the other child.
"My name's Antonio! What's yours?" the Spanish child had smiled brightly, pissing Lovino off further.
"Lovino, now go away, stupid! I want to sleep." Lovino huffed in response, sitting up in order to cross his arms and look angrier.
"Okay, Lovino~ But you're going to be my new best friend, okay?"
"I've been a bad boyfriend, not seeing you more often." Antonio laughed softly, retrieving a bottle of Lovino's favorite wine from his canvas backpack and pouring them each some- into previously towel-wrapped wine glasses brought forth from the bag.
Their friendship was so much stronger as teenagers.
"Lovino! I finally got my driver's license!" Lovino looked up at the overexcited Spaniard, who was in fact brandishing a new license.
"Congratulations, bastard. You managed not to drive into anything." Lovino said sarcastically. Antonio frowned slightly.
"Lovi, don't be mean." He whined, pouting minutely at the other. Lovino rolled his eyes.
"Shut up, bastard." The Italian huffed.
Of course Antonio decided to ignore this and smiled instead. "So, since I can drive now, do you want to spend the night at my house? I can get you back to your house in time for church."
"Whatever, bastard."
"You know, Lovi, I'm glad you agreed to be my fiancé." Antonio said offhandedly, swirling the wine in his glass slowly before taking a sip. "And I know we're never going to get married, but I like knowing you're mine forever and always."
They started going out at the end of highschool.
Why the hell was he at prom anyway? It was stupid and pointless and he only went because it was Antonio's last year and the stupid Spaniard didn't want to be alone.
Lovino's eyes narrowed into a glare and he felt his lip curl in a snarl when the music became a slow song. And there was Potato Bastard #1 dancing with his stupid little brother. Fuck.
The Italian let out an undignified yelp (that he'd forever deny) when he felt an arm curl around his waist and a hand take his own.
"Tonio? What the hell!" he spat, glaring at the smiling face above him.
"Lovi, will you go out with me?"
"But I miss you sometimes, you're so far away, querido. " He sighed softly, pouring himself more wine and staring blankly at Lovino's untouched wineglass.
It was their second year of college that he proposed.
He didn't like to admit it, but Lovino was impressed.
Candlelight, perfectly cooked pasta, soft music, his favorite wine. Antonio had really outdone himself for their anniversary.
"Is it good, mi amor?" the Spaniard was smiling gently at him. Anyone looking at him would instantly know he was in love.
"It's not terrible, " was the Italian's response after several minutes of weighty silence. Antonio smiled all the brighter. The tanned man stood up and walked around the table, kneeling carefully before Lovino and drawing a box from his pocket.
"Say yes?"
"I probably won't see you for awhile after this. I have to go on a trip to Belgium to meet with some business partners. You won't be too lonely, will you?" Antonio looked concerned, tilting his head slightly in question.
It was the year after that that it all went to hell.
"So you're really on your way home? Isn't it snowing?" Antonio was biting his lip in worry as he talked to his fiancé on the phone.
Lovino had spent a week of break in New York, visiting his brother and his brother's boyfriend. Lovino was scheduled to be home today, but a blizzard rolling in had made Antonio think the other would wait it out with Feliciano.
"Lovi, maybe you should head back…"
He heard the other snort into his cell phone. "I'm fine, bastard." He responded. There was a long pause.
Lovino started again, softer. "Besides, I want to be with you for Christmas, idiota." Antonio's smile could've lit up the whole block.
"But don't go telling anyo-" a sickening crunch across the line.
"Lovi!"
"Te amo, mi vida. Really, I do, but I have to get going; the taxi should be here." So Antonio rose from the grass, dumping out the forgotten wine from Lovino's glass and repacking the bottle and glasses. The Spaniard smiled softly as he shouldered his backpack, smoothing out his completely black clothing, and trudged off.
He left behind a bouquet of flowers on the grass before the highly polished marble headstone. The subtly elegant script marking the headstone read 'Lovino Vargas- 1987-2011 RIP'. It was his and Antonio's sixth anniversary.
Querido- Spanish- dear
Mi amor- Spanish- my love
Idiota- Italian- idiot
Te amo, mi vida- Spanish- I love you, my life
Have a good day, guys~