However, Lovino was watching his jerk of a cat. Normally Romano bit or hissed at Antonio when he and Lovino were close, but now he seemed to enjoy the man's actions. Plus, Romano never gave into Spain's silly ways. What was that beast planning? As far as Lovino knew the feline could be plotting revenge on Antonio...but for what? Romano had a painful history of being violent with everyone, including young cousins trying to stroke his ears, his brother's boyfriend passing by, and even ladybugs rushing around. But, when he felt a sudden feeling of anger, Romano let his prey live for a while. He'd let little Nero pet his head for a bit. Then, when everyone was having a change of heart, he'd sink his sharp claws into the pale hand rubbing him.
Antonio did nothing. He knew from several experiences, one in particular involving a kitten and the couch, not to touch Romano. The Spaniard barely made eye contact if he could avoid it. Actually, maybe it wasn't really Antonio's relationship with Romano. Romano was prone to jealously: yowling because Spain had a new toy or playing dead since he wasn't getting enough attention. It could very possibly be Lovino's own fault…
Interrupting the love Antonio was lavishing him with, Lovino got up and scooped up Romano. Marching upstairs to his bedroom, Lovino dropped Romano on the double bed covered with a playful tomato pattern. Romano sported an innocent look at Lovino jabbed a finger in his face.
"Look, furball, I've taken care of you for four years. I saved you from starving in a park. The least you can do is not seek revenge or whatever on Antonio. He didn't do anything to you, nor will he, or I will personally kick him in the—never mind. But I swear, you keep this up and it's the shelter for you. I'd much rather lose you than Antonio. Capire, gatto*?" Lovino warned with no sign of kidding.
At the word 'shelter', a cold shock went through Romano's body. Romano was considering dropping his project now. He'd heard about the shelter and how drab, cold, and full of other cats it was. In fact, around the neighborhood if you were bad everyone called you a "shelter cat". It was a great insult. Once a female bit her owner and was shunned for a month by her fellow felines. His loved Lovino and he wished he could explain why he needed to construct this experiment. But, as all of us but Spain most likely know, cats can't talk. Nodding his furry head in understanding, Romano watched his owner storm down the stairs.
The minute Lovino left, Spain skipped into the room, looking worried. Why was his Roma taken upstairs? Well, maybe Antonio told Lovino that Spain was getting a talk, so maybe that's why. Or was his Roma in trouble? Oh, Spain thought, it's all my fault. Maybe the humans both wanted some private time with their cats to talk to them. Wait, that's crazy—but then again, Antonio had wanted to converse with him.
"Spain, I think I made Lovi mad, though. He went upstairs and he looked angry...did I come on too fast again? I try to go slow with this, but once again my stupid mouth-," Antonio never finished his sentence because Lovino stomped back down the stairs.
Spain wiped the memory out of his mind. Now his focus was on Romano. The cream colored feline lay crumpled like a ball of paper on the bed. Poor thing; he looked like he'd just had been yelled at. Spain was always one for pity and bringing people back up when they've fallen down. Sometimes even when they didn't want it. In one jump he landed on the bed beside Romano. He also meant to land on his face. He wondered why there were flat tomatoes on the bed. What a mess, Spain thought. Antonio would have a fit at all the tomatoes wasted.
"Roma, are you okay? Did Lovino yell at you? Roma..."Spain asked in a sea of worry.
Romano didn't say anything. He simply wanted someone to hold him right about now. He'd just been threatened with the most horrid punishment imaginable. The small cat could almost see the grey, empty world he'd been warned of. No more bright red tomato gardens, beautiful dew coated backyards dotted with yellow ladybugs, or four filling meals a day...just grey, grey, and grey. During these thoughts, Romano didn't notice Spain starting to lick behind his ears ever so gently. Flushing a shade of rosa*, Romano purred, encouraging Spain to keep going. Spain moved from Romano's head to his face, planting his ruff tongue on the other cat's cheeks. Loud, content purrs erupted from both mammals. Romano made sure he kept this in mind: "Likes to comfort others." Meanwhile, something was going on downstairs.
"Lovi, you're back! I'm really, really sorry for whatever I did to make you mad! I swear I didn't know, honestly. Please don't leave me! If you did leave, I might die. Or worse, all the tomatoes in the world would burst into flames! Lo siento mucho!"Antonio cried once Lovino got back downstairs.
Lovi— ack, Lovino!—blushed at Antonio's pathetic pleading. It was something he'd never seen before: the large, tanned Spanish man begging for his Lovi right there on the living room ("Lovi, is there a dead room?") carpet. However, another thought had him blush the perfect shade of the fruits in his garden. Lovino had felt something when he yelled at Romano. Those words…did he mean them? He sensed that there was another meaning to them. "I'd rather lose you than Antonio", was the phrase which got under his skin. He didn't really care about that idiot, did he? Well, looking back, it was hard to see when Lovino didn't think about Antonio. Every single time Antonio was sick, Lovino was next to his bed, feeding him or holding a wet towel to his head. Also, at any time Antonio wanted to take his Lovi somewhere or do something, Lovino gave in after a few seconds of struggling. Why was it so hard for Lovino to fight him on anything? Being Lovino, he blamed Romano. Nursing the cat back to health as a tiny, scrawny gattino* probably didn't help how tough he was. Then again, he had met Antonio in high school, long before he adopted Romano. They started to have a….relationship…..about 2 years before Romano stormed into the house, fluffy tail and all. But, of course, Lovino refused to believe this and charged his feline for making him feel like this.
"Lovi?" Antonio asked, concerned about the Italian before him.
"Just…just-," For the second time in one chapter, someone didn't finish a sentence. Methinks I need to teach Lovino and Antonio how to talk properly.
Lovino found himself wrapped in a worried Spaniard's loving arms. He thought about pushing Antonio away, but after realizing how much stronger and taller the other man was, he surrendered. Antonio leaned his head full of dark locks on Lovino's shoulder, making the embrace tender. Calming circles were traced in Lovino's amber hair (Antonio didn't dare go near the weird curl of hair). The Italian sighed in comfort. Antonio leaned forwards to get closer to his Lovi, but being the klutz Antonio is, the Italian was soon on the floor underneath the Spaniard. Lovino normally would have killed anyone else who fell on him, but with Antonio…did he want it? OK, Lovino thought, maybe I would have fallen for him even without the dumb cat. Now to find out….
Back upstairs in Lovino's bedroom, the cats were enjoying each other's company. No, that was a lie; Spain was enjoying his Roma. Romano, on the other hand, would much rather be trapped in a pen with three pit bulls and a crazy person. He hissed at Spain but the large cat answered with a laugh.
"Roma, hold still! How can we possibly cuddle when you keep struggling?" Spain asked.
"Wow, I wonder why I'm resisting, idiot! God, Spain! Get off! Your dad's downstairs; go play with him," Romano snarled, trying to get the larger feline off of him.
"I don't wanna play with daddy! I wanna play with Roma~! NYAAA!" Following the battle cry, Spain leapt onto Romano and started to purr like a motorboat.
Hissing, Romano squirmed until he could get under the bed and away from the Spanish cat. Another note was ready to be remembered: "Playful; enjoys the company of others". Romano could really care less about the jerk's need for cuddling; he had a human for that. Speaking of humans, Romano felt like he needed to apologize to Lovino. He was just being protective of Antonio, nothing more. Also, the pound was scaring him more than that creepy cat France. Walking out the bedroom door, Romano trotted down the stairs, only to be followed. Spain, as we all know and love, takes his 'daddy' Antonio as a model. As we also know, Antonio has no sense of balance. Well, take that thought and add it to a large cat, and what do you have? A faster way dawn the steps (to Spain) and a plummet to the tile floor (to Romano). Downstairs, however, was a scene both felines never thought they'd see.
