"Antonio, would you still be willing to tutor my brother in the guitar?"

"E-er," Antonio was silent. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly, before replying. "Sure, I guess? But I thought he doesn't want to…?" replied Antonio.

"He changed his mind," replied Feliciano simply.

Antonio blinked, shocked. Just the previous day, the ignorant older Italian had been dead-set on not learning from him. And now, he'd changed his mind.

"W-well, I guess I'm available any time, but tell him to call me before he comes, alright?" said Antonio, before hanging up.

He sighed. What did he get himself into? He would have thought about it, if he had time, because about five seconds after he hung up from Feliciano, his phone rang again. He groaned and flipped it back open. Unknown number.

"Hello?" he answered.

"'sup bastard," came a voice.

Well that wasn't very nice. "Who's this?" asked Antonio, although he had a feeling he already knew who it was.

"It's me, Lovino, dumbass. And before you ask where I got your number, I got it off that person that's my brother," came his voice.

Antonio sighed. "I guess this means that you're coming over, right?"

"Uhuh, don't think I want to, though. Everything Feliciano might have told you about me changing my mind is all bull. He's practically forcing me to, because if I don't he'll stop making pasta and I'll have to do it myself," frowned Lovino.

Antonio rolled his eyes. He wasn't really interested in their day-to-day sibling life. "Whatever, just hurry up," he said, before closing the cell phone and throwing it on the sofa.

-x-

The bus pulled up against the curb just one block down from Antonio's apartment. Lovino frowned at the scribble on the piece of paper, it was his brother's and clearly legible. After staring at it for a good minute or so, he figured he had a close-enough idea of what it said.

He climbed up the stairwell – why did Antonio live on the sixth floor? And why weren't there any elevators? – before coming to a stop. He tapped on the door, planning in his head what he wanted to happen. He would watch Antonio carefully while he learnt guitar; if he seemed normal, then he wouldn't investigate any more and he'd drop any of his speculations. But if he found anything suspicious, he'd keep both eyes open.

The door opened. "Ah, Lovino, welcome," said Antonio. There wasn't resent in his voice, but it wasn't exactly happy either. This was going to be a looong afternoon.

-x-

Lovino pressed his fingers against the strings. The pads of his fingers were starting to burn, but this was probably all part of the experience, right?

"A little bit more to this side," said Antonio, as moved one of Lovino's fingers left. "And this is the A chord, okay? Play it," instructed Antonio, watching the Italian carefully.

Lovino scowled, and ran the pick across the strings. "You're holding it wrong now," said Antonio, readjusting Lovino's fingers on the pick. "I know it takes getting used to, but after a while it'll be natural," he explained.

While Lovino played, he couldn't help but notice how simple-minded this guy was. He was happy, and never really seemed to get mad at him, regardless of how many times he played the chord wrong. And while he played, he'd give his full attention. He wouldn't be doing something else, but rather watching him intently with those exhilarating green eyes of his.

By the time a few hours had passed, Lovino decided it was time to go home. Not to mention his fingers were burning. "Um, I'll come around maybe tomorrow, if that's okay with you," he called awkwardly, as he left the apartment. He looked back to see the Spaniard's smiling face, waving him goodbye.

"Maybe he's not too bad after all," thought Lovino, as he closed the door and climbed back down those stairs, his guitar lagging behind him.

-x-

It seemed Lovino had a natural talent for rhythm. It was a pity he kept getting his fingers too far left or right on his chords.

"You're going to need to really work on that, Lovi," said Antonio seriously. "Playing out of turn is some pretty bad stuff," and to prove his point, he took Lovino's guitar, and played a song completely out of tune. "Not too nice, huh?"

"It was terrible, cher," came someone's voice.

Lovino turned and scowled. This guy had been lounging on Antonio's couch the whole time Lovino had been there, and yes, Lovino had noticed the flirtatious looks he'd been given. He tried to ignore him, but he'd be constantly asking Antonio questions, and interrupting his lesson.

"Oh yeah, Lovino, next week I'll be away so you can't come over," said Antonio. He looked slightly tired as he said this.

"Why?" asked Lovino.

"Er, I have to go to Spain," he said awkwardly. "For work," he added.

Lovino gave him a strange look. "You work in Spain?" he asked incredulously.

Antonio shifted his gaze over to Francis. "Um, I guess you could say that," he smiled. The Frenchman's lips curled into a slight smile.

Lovino looked away. If he worked in Spain, why was he in America? That didn't make sense. He brushed it off, and began packing away his guitar. "This is from my brother," he said suddenly, tossing a box at the Spaniard's back.

"Huh?" he asked, turning around as the box glanced off his back. He bent over to pick it up, and found it to be a box of biscuits. "Tell him thanks for me," he called. The door closed.

"Antonio, you two seem to be close friends," commented Francis, getting up from his seat. Antonio glanced over at the Frenchman.

"I've only been teaching him for two weeks, we aren't really that close. Plus I can't shake the feeling that he hates me," he confessed, looking away awkwardly.

Francis smiled. "I'd say the opposite, mon ami," he hinted, raising his eyebrows.

"Pardon?" asked Antonio.

Francis smiled even bigger. "I'd say he quite likes you," he continued. If his eyebrows got any higher, they'd be floating off his face.

Antonio laughed, not getting Francis's hints at all. "At most, he's a friend I guess," he said, as bit into one of Feliciano's cookies.

"Are you ever going to tell him?" asked Francis, his voice suddenly serious.

Antonio paused. "Tell him what?"

Francis rolled his eyes. "What else, that we're… countries," he said softly, cocking his head to the side.

Antonio's face fell. Oh, that. The atmosphere suddenly dropped (not that he could tell, but…) and Francis eyed him, curious for his response. "I don't see why I need to, if he's just a friend…"

It was quiet for a bit, before Francis continued his point. "When years pass, he'll definitely notice the… changes in your physical appearance, won't he?"

"Or lack of, is a better term. I guess I'd have to tell him then… but it can wait, can't it? I think I can put it off for a good five years…" he trailed off. He looked down, feeing a shiver up his spine. He had a feeling of déjà vu…

Francis's eyes turned somber, as he saw his friend's expression. He too, remembered the incident before, something quite similar to this. It wasn't that humans and countries couldn't co-exist; that wasn't it at all. It was just that humans had such a short life span in comparison, so much easier for them to die…

"Well, I hope my boss doesn't take too long, he's been complaining about me living here… he wants me to go live in Spain again," Antonio laughed. Most of them lived in their own countries, but there were a few who chose to live elsewhere, although would often be called back home for work issues. "I should really be packing, feel free to do whatever you want," he said to Francis, before leaving to his room.

Francis closed his eyes, shaking his head. "He really is an idiot…"

-x-

Lovino's phone beeped twice, indicating a text message. He flipped open his phone, and found it to be from Antonio.

From: Antonio Carriedo

Hi Lovino, I'm back in the US. Come over when you feel like it

Lovino found himself smiling slightly, quite unintentionally. It'd been a week since he'd last seen the cheerful Spaniard, and not that he'd missed him – okay, maybe a bit, but he was sure his guitar skills had gone down the drain as of recent. Lovino was pretty lazy at that moment, though, so he decided to give Antonio a day or two to rest before gracing him with his wonderful presence.

Eventually, two days rolled over, and Lovino gave the Spaniard a call. "I'll come over today, is that alright?" he asked. Antonio would always say yes.

Two weeks later, however, Lovino was answered with another response.

"That's fine, you don't need to call me every time, by the way. I'm usually at home all day, since I don't work. If I'm not home, you can just let yourself in alright?" said Antonio.

Lovino smiled. He received so much trust from this guy, and they'd only known each other for a little more than a month. Not to mention, they got off to a bad start. Lovino had quickly changed all his thoughts about this guy; he was cool, well mannered, funny – and not to mention somewhat attractive, although he'd never say it to his face.

The Italian pinched himself. No, no way was he going to let himself fall for this guy. He was still annoying, at times, with his idiotic behavior and inability to grasp the situation. Yeah, in a few days, Lovino had realized how dense this guy was.

"Lovino! You're back again~" greeted Antonio. Lovino smirked.

"That's what happens when the recording guy wants to hear my play in a few days," he retorted.

Antonio gave an awkward smile, and ran a hand through his hair. "I guess so. Don't worry though, I think you're doing fine~"

Lovino walked inside the apartment, feeling the somewhat familiar atmosphere. He'd begun spending more and more time here recently. Occasionally he'd end up going out for lunch or dinner with the Spaniard. They'd already moved from student and teacher to friends, and every day the two learned different things about each other. One thing Lovino did find strange, however, was Antonio's aversion to the topic of his work. He'd never exactly specify what he worked as.

"It's a really strange job, Lovi. There's no way I can exactly specify it," he laughed awkwardly. "It's a mix of a lot of things, I guess."

-x-

Lovino ran his fingers across the strings of the guitar. His fingers had calloused over slightly, no longer burning him when he played. He'd learnt how to hold and use the guitar pick properly too, so that was one discomfort gone. He began to unconsciously play a single tune.

"Did Antonio teach you that?" asked a voice. Lovino looked up, and found it to be the French guy. Again.

"Hi Francis," he said curtly. "And yes… do you know it?" he asked.

Francis lowered his head and smiled. "You know, he made that song? I was with him when he made it," he added. Lovino frowned slightly. Wasn't that song a hundred or so years old?

"Quit messing with me, bastard," he said shortly, beginning to pack up his guitar. He strapped the velcro straps together, when the Frenchman's voice came over again.

"How much do you really know about Antonio?" he asked.

Lovino stopped. He looked to the side, before answering. "I-I don't know… I've only known him for a month or so. We've gone and ate a few times... but I guess I don't know him all that well," he confessed.

"But aren't you curious?"

It was silent for a while. Lovino suddenly felt a bit pissed off by this guy. What was his problem? "Curious about what? Why are you asking this?" he asked, irritation edging his voice. He couldn't deny that sometimes he was a bit curious, especially on those certain topics that would always be avoided…

He laughed, and looked out the window. "Sorry, I thought that maybe he would've told you something. Especially after what happened last time…" He shook his head. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

Last time? Lovino had no idea what this guy was talking about. He looked up to see Francis's expression, but it was unreadable.

No, the bastard was probably trying to stir him up. If Antonio hadn't said anything, it probably wasn't important, nor any of his business. Plus, they hadn't known each other for very long. Perhaps he'd say something in the coming future.

"Bye, Francis," he said, before turning and heading out the door.

Francis watched as the door closed. "He's definitely curious, just a bit too proud to admit it," he mused.

-x-

France, what on earth are you up to? ; _ ;

So, I'm trying to make it mostly plot [hence the timeskips], I've learnt and experienced that fillers aren't very fun. By the way, if this is boring in any way shape or form, PLEASE. FREAKING. TELL ME.

I NEED FEEDBACK ON THIS SORT OF STUFF, OR I'LL NEVER KNOW OTL
AND THEN I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO FIX IT ; A ;
SO REVIEW ME PLEASE ; 3 ;

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