... Holy cow, I'm alive! I haven't posted anything in forever so I thought I might be dead or something! It's good to see I'm alright!
"Mr. Vargas, someone has sent you another rose."
Lovino looked up from his computer at the woman holding the clip board and the red rose, "Another? I hope this doesn't become a habit."
This was the third day he had received a gift, and he still didn't know who was sending them. The gifts in question were ordinary, red roses. The only thing special about them were the tags that came with them.
Lovino sighed, "Put in on the desk. I'll look at it in a moment."
"Alright." The lady, who will remain nameless, laid the single rose on the desk and left the room.
Lovino looked back to his computer and began typing. Every now and again, he would glance to the flower, curious of what the tag said. His curiosity finally got the better of him. He finished the sentence and picked up the flower. He read the tag:
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
You are too cute.
I really love you.
Lovino didn't know whether to smile at the thought or blush at the embarrassment, so he did both. The tags always had stupid little poems. And the handwriting was so familiar, but Lovino couldn't place where he'd seen it.
One of his co-workers decided it would be a good idea to appear out of nowhere, "Oh, you got another one? How sweet~"
The Italian nearly jumped out of his chair. Looking behind him, he saw Antonio, "Damn it, why the hell do you have to do that?"
"Do what?" Antonio seemed genuinely confused.
"Appear out of nowhere like that." Lovino scowled.
"Lo siento, Lovi." Antonio picked up the rose and sat on the desk. Thankfully, there were no papers on it. The Spaniard grinned, "Any idea who's sending them?"
"You know very well that I haven't a clue."
"Know anyone who likes roses?"
"Other than you and Francis? No one."
Antonio laughed, "Well, maybe I'm sending you the roses."
Lovino raised an eyebrow, "You? Really? Now why would you do that?"
"Maybe I love you." Antonio shrugged. Getting in Lovino's face, he added, "After all, you are too cute."
The Italian pushed the Spaniard away, "Thanks for making my life so much more fucking awkward, dumbass."
"You're welcome." Antonio laughed again, "So, what do you think the next on will say?"
"How do you know there will be a next one?"
The Spaniard shrugged.
Lovino sighed, "I dunno. Probably something dumb like..." he paused, "Four roses for you. Only you for me. My love for you is true. To my heart, you have the key."
"Heheh. That's kind of cute." Antonio grinned. He hopped off the desk, "So, after work, you're coming with me to that restaurant you like so much."
The Italian blinked, "Why didn't I know this?"
"Because I just decided it."
"You know you can't go about making last minute decisions, right?"
"With most people that may be true, but you're not most people. You're special. You're Lovi."
The younger blushed slightly, "You make it sound like..." he stopped, "Never mind. Fine, I'll go with you to that damn restaurant after work, but you seriously have to fucking decide these things sooner."
Antonio chuckled, "Whatever you say, Lovi. Whatever you say."
After work, Lovino met up with Antonio at the front door. The Spaniard was obviously glad to see the smaller, "Ah, there you are, amigo! I was afraid you might have forgotten."
"Idioto, work JUST fucking ended. You have to give me more than a few goddamn seconds to get down here. I work on the tenth floor. Unlike you, who works on the fifth." Lovino huffed.
"Ah, well, that's because you're so much more successful than I am." Antonio replied, "The higher the floor, the more successful, ¿no?"
"Well, if you'd actually fucking work instead of goof off, you might be on the tenth floor, too. Hell, who knows? You could even be on the twentieth floor."
Ah, the twentieth floor. It was the employee's dream to make it there. The top floor. How wonderful it must be... Unfortunately, most never made it to the fifth. The gave up because it seemed like too much work. Only the most determined made it to the twentieth, and there weren't many determined people.
"I like goofing off though. It gives me time to see you." Antonio replied.
"You do realize that unless it's for work purposes you're not allowed on any floor above the one you work on, right?" Lovino raised an eyebrow. Honestly, what went on through this guy's head? It was a mystery to the Italian, and it always would be.
"... Sí." The Spaniard nodded, "But nobody ever pays attention, so I never get caught."
Lovino sighed. There was so little law enforcement at work...
The arrived at the restaurant ten minutes after working had ended. The sat at a table by the window and waited for someone to come by and take their order. They didn't wait in silence of course. Antonio made sure of that.
"So, Lovi, who would you like those roses to be from?"
The Italian raised an eyebrow, "Back to the roses, huh? That's suspicious, Toni."
The Spaniard smiled at the nickname. Lovino was the only one who ever called him 'Toni.' He was 'Antonio' to most and 'Tonio' to few, but he was 'Toni' to only Lovino... When the Italian was in a good mood. Together they were Lovi and Toni. Antonio laughed, "Well, I'm curious. Can you blame me?"
"You're an idiot." Lovino rolled his eyes, but seriously considered his friend's question, "Who would /I/ like them to be from?" he paused, "Well, I dunno..." he chuckled, "I really don't know."
"Aw. Really?" Antonio whined, "You can't even think of one person who you'd like them to be from?"
"Well..." The Italian sighed, "Maybe they're from you?"
"Eh? M-Me?" Antonio was taken by surprise.
"Well, you said so yourself. You could be sending them, and I guess I wouldn't mind it too much if an idiot like you really /was/ sending 'em." Lovino laughed quietly, "Then again, maybe I would mind. After all, I might get killed by all your fangirls."
The Spaniard was blushing slightly, "You really are too cute, ya know?"
The younger rolled his eyes, "I'm /not/ cute."
Truth be told, Lovino really /wouldn't/ mind if Antonio really /was/ sending the roses, but... Lovino also knew that Antonio probably /wasn't/ the culprit. After all, he could get anyone to fall in love with him with just the word: hello... That's basically what happened with Lovino. The Spaniard was gorgeous, and his voice was like music, his personality was simply perfect. Everything about Antonio made Lovino want to swoon, but... The Italian had an image to uphold. He couldn't let the Spaniard know how he felt. Besides, not only would Antonio's fangirls kill Lovino, but Antonio probably didn't feel the same anyway. The had been friends ever since they met, which was only four years ago, but still... Yea... Plus, there were other problems. Lies, heartbreak, the thought of being used, and more. So.. .Fuck love and everything to do with it or some shit. Damn.
A waitress finally came by, and the duo ordered their food. Some Italian what-not for Lovino, and a Spanish whatever for Antonio.
"So, Lovi, what's new with Feliciano lately?" Antonio asked as the waitress walked away.
"Dunno." Lovino shrugged, "Idiot hasn't told me anything in, like, five months."
"Apparently, he's fallen in love."
"... I love how my brother tells me these important things..." Lovino sighed, "Fallen in love? With who?"
"Hm... Ludwig Something-or-another." The Spaniard shrugged, "Don't remember what his last name was. I think it started with a 'B.'"
"Beilschmidt... Whatever. I don't care anyway." The Italian began, "If Feliciano wants to fall in love with that damn potato bastard, let him. As long as Feli stops bringing him home, I don't care."
"Oh, you do care, Lovi. You just don't want anyone to know it for some reason." Antonio stated.
"What makes you say that?"
"Spanish intuition."
"Dumbass."
"Well, I'm your dumbass."
Lovino almost chocked on thin air, "Do you enjoy making my life more awkward than it needs to be?!"
Antonio laughed sheepishly, "Lo siento, but it's your fault for being so cute... Remember when we first met?"
The Italian rolled his eyes, "The most awkward first meeting I've /ever/ had. How the hell could I forget that?"
Flashback... Lo siento...
Lovino, age 19, was walking down the street bored out of his mind. He thought taking a walk would be less boring than sitting at home doing nothing. It was, but barely.
Antonio, age 21, was in a hurrey. He was late. Both he and his papers. He thought he could sleep in another five minutes, but he ended up sleeping in for fifteen. He was running so quickly that he didn't have time to stop, and he ended up running into someone. Papers flew everywhere, and the Spaniard fell on top of whoever it was he had ran into.
Lovino hit his head on the ground. After the spots cleared from his vision he looked to see who had ran into him. This man was gorgeous. His perfectly tan skin went wonderfully with his dark hair. The Italian shook his head to rid it of ridiculous thoughts.
Antonio jumped up, "Ah! S-Sorry. I was in such a hurrey that I couldn't stop." He began gathering the papers.
Lovino huffed, "Yea, well, watch it next time. I seriously might have a concussion or something." he decided it would be best to help the rushing man gather his things. After they had gathered all the papers, the stood up, and Lovino handed the ones he had picked up to the stranger.
"Um... Hey, I'm Antonio. Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo."
"L-Lovino Vargas."
Antonio looked over Lovino. Before he could register what he was going to say, he spoke, "You're kinda cute, but you must get that a lot, huh?"
Lovino blushed, "C-Cute? I-I am /not/ cute, you... you... stupido bastardo!" he glared at the taller man. Gorgeous or not, no one should start a conversation with a stranger like that.
Antonio laughed sheepishly, "Sorry, sorry. I just thought you'd like to know the truth. We should be friends."
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Lovino was not amused at all.
"Sure, but I'm always late to work, so it's to be expected." Antonio shrugged, "So, where are you off to?"
"No clue... I'm just walking. Now leave. Go away. Your presence is /not/ welcomed here." Lovino crossed his arms, "Why don't you go torment some other Italian or something?"
"Because this poor Spaniard doesn't know any other Italians." Antonio replied, "Nor does he know anyone as cute as you."
"Will you stop calling me cute?"
"Ah, lo siento, Lovi, but it's the truth."
Lovino twitched, "Excuse me? My name is /not/ Lovi. It is Lovino. Get it right, dumbass."
"I know what your name is, but Lovi is your nickname."
"... Are you always this friendly, or am I just special?"
"Well, a little of both I suppose."
"...Che cosa?"
"¿Qué?"
Lovino eyed the Spaniard suspiciously, "You should probably get to work now... Or what? Do I have to walk you there or something?"
"Eh? Lovi wants to spend time with me? ¡Que fantástico!"
"Hmph. Please. I have more important things to do than spend time with an idiotic stranger like you." Lovino rolled his eyes.
"Like what?"
"... Which way?"
Antonio smiled, "How cute~" he laughed, "You know Lovino this could be the start of something amazing."
"You, sir, are an awkward idiot."
"Gracias, bello."
End Flashback... No hay de qué...
"Well, it's what you get for being so cute." Antonio grinned.
Lovino blushed, "Will you kindly shut the fuck up."
"Not until I get my point across." The Spaniard replied.
"Oh, joy..." The smaller sighed.
"Well, if it isn't Lovino und Tonio." A familiar voice cackled, "Out on a romantic little date?"
"Fuck off, beer bastard." Lovino scowled, "It's just a... friendly outing."
"You hear that, Frenchie? It's a friendly outing." Gilbert Beilschmidt grinned as he as Francis Bonneyfoy sat at the table.
"Well, since it's just that, it looks like I still have a chance to win dear Lovino's heart, non?" Francis asked from his newly found seat beside the Italian, "What wonderful news."
"Back the fuck up, wine bastard." Lovino really didn't like this seating arrangement. In fact, one could go as far to say that he hated it. Sitting anywhere near Francis made Lovino incredibly uncomfortable.
"I'd say it's awesome news." Gilbert began, "If they aren't on a date, it means /I/ can still try to get Lovino to realize how awesome I really am! I'll even get him to admit it!"
Antonio was /not/ pleased with what he was hearing. To be honest, he didn't know whether his two best friends were serious about half the thing they said about Lovino. Did they both /really/ have their eyes on the Italian, or were they just joking around like they usually did?
End of Chapter
Oh? Who's sending our dear Lovi roses?
Is it okay so far? Do you like it? Lovi it? Hate it? Oh... Please don't hate it... And if you do, can you be nice when you tell me?