A/N: Here comes the Spamanoooo~

Warnings for heavy suicidal thinking in this chapter. (Because only I can mix something as awesome as chocolate with something as awful as suicide. I swear, I need help xD).

Random fact: in my opinion, Romerica is a very strange pairing. But I totally adore those two as friends :3

Yay.

Lovino's apartment was exactly how Antonio had imagined it. Not very large, but strangely not very cramped, either. It had character. It was old in a pleasant sort of way, cream wallpaper and comfortable clutter. There was a kitchenette and a TV and a couch with a blanket draped on it, a cupboard in the living room with a few bottles of cheap wine and ceramic figurines of farm animals.

Lovino caught him staring at those. "My grandmother used to collect those things."

"Oh! Is this your grandparents' apartment?"

Lovino wordlessly nodded. Antonio had just recovered from a coughing fit. Climbing up two flights of stairs had done it for his lungs, and now he was sitting at one end of the couch, relishing the feeling of just breathing. Lovino had given him a glass of warm water, and Antonio kept taking small sips. He watched Lovino now. The man was across the room, looking through the kitchen cabinets for something to eat. "It's not like they had much money. When Grandpa died, I got the apartment and Feli got whatever wealth they had. It put her through cooking school. I think Grandpa would have liked that."

"Oh. Yeah."

Lovino half-turned and glanced at Antonio before turning back to where he'd taken out a few ingredients. "Pasta's good? You eat tomatoes, right?"

I love tomatoes.

I don't deserve them, though.

I don't deserve anything.

"Uh," Antonio mumbled, lowering his eyes. He didn't want to be rude, either. Lovino was doing so much for him.

This time, Lovino turned fully, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at Antonio. "I can make cheese sauce instead."

"Oh! Oh yes, that sounds lovely."

"Yeah." Lovino turned back, putting the tomatoes away and raiding his refrigerator for cheese instead. "So, you've asked me a ton of questions lately. Tell me about yourself."

Antonio swallowed. "There's not much to say."

"Well, I'm bored of listening to myself talk," Lovino replied effortlessly, taking out a saucepan and a grater. "You said your parents were from Spain. Have you ever been there before yourself?"

"…I used to go there a lot during summer break when I was a kid, but I've not been there in years! It's really pretty, though. Everyone's friendly and the food is amazing!"

"Yeah? Your parents moved back to Spain afterwards, right?"

"Yeah, it's been a few years…"

"My grandparents always wanted to go back to Italy. But they never could save up enough. They were from Sicily but moved here in the twenties? Thirties? I don't remember. Anyway, Grandpa worked in a convenience store all his life but he was obsessed—I mean, fucking obsessed—with chocolate. He'd always wanted to learn how to make it but he never got the chance. My dad didn't really care as much. But then mom and dad passed away when Feli and I were really young, so Grandpa and Grandma took us in. And well, his obsession was contagious. Besides, let me tell you, one of the best ways to cheer up a grieving, confused little boy is by giving him a chocolate bar and telling him a funny story. Takes the mind off the loss." Lovino said all of this without a hint of emotion, still chopping and boiling and grating the food.

Antonio smiled slightly to himself. "You were really close to your grandfather, huh?"

"Not initially," Lovino replied, sprinkling something into the saucepan. "I actually thought he hated me because he'd spend so much time with Feli. She was four. I was six. Anyway, later he told me that it was because Feli was young and impressionable and far more shaken by dad and mom's death than she was letting on. I mean, I get it. It still bothers her. She doesn't like going to orphanages."

"Why would you go to orphanages?"

"To donate the shop window chocolate after we don't need it. The kids are always really happy. You'd think that would make Feli happy too, but she gets very upset. Ivan and I just end up doing it."

"Oh."

Lovino shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Everyone goes through shit, and it's pretty bad at first, but we all learn to deal with things."

Oh god, Antonio hated hearing stuff like that. It just reminded him of how he was giving up. A part of him wished Lovino hadn't found him. A part of him wished Lovino would have just let him drown. Now, he had to live again. At least for a little while. At least until he got another chance to die.

Dying was easy. There were plenty of ways to do it. From jumping off buildings to slitting wrists to taking sleeping pills. But for Antonio, it had to be water. He had to drown. This was important.

FOCUS, ANTONIO.

Stop thinking about it.

Stop. Just. Focus on the present.

Ah, ah, ah, too late.

So, drowning is the worst way. Because—

Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP, RODERICH.

—Because it's painful. And more than that, it makes you panic. It's not the same sort of pain as cutting your veins open. Drowning makes the brain explode in terror and desperation. Oxygen is so fundamental. We can barely go a minute without it. So when you can't get it, when your lungs are filled with water instead of air—

Stop, oh god, please stop—

Everything hurts. From the tip of your hair to the blood in your body. Everything is screaming. And your mouth is open and clawing for oxygen but you just get more water in. Ironic how water is supposed to keep you alive when really, it can kill you in such an agonising way.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorrysorrysorry sorry sorry please sorry let me go I'm sorry—

"Jesus, what the fuck?"

Antonio had curled in on himself, fingers clawing his hair to make his brain SHUT UP. His mind was always chaos. He could never calm it down. Never. He was breathing deeply and slowly, because he could only ever hope to regain control if he kept still. He'd have to force his heartbeat to become steady again. It was always so difficult.

"Do you have a headache?"Lovino took Antonio's hands and pulled them away from his head, pushing him up by the shoulders and pressing his back into the sofa cushions. "Are you all right?"

It was incredible, that aura Lovino had. Some people's very presence could fill a place up and calm things down. Lovino could do that. His eyes, amber and steady, fixed into Antonio's. It was like holding a warm hand. They gave off the same reassurance, the same security.

Antonio's mind became quiet.

"Sorry. I—I think—my head—"

"You should lie down. You still have a bit of a temperature." Lovino's hand was very cold as it pressed against Antonio's forehead. "Feli should be back soon with a couple of shirts and jeans for you, but until then you can borrow a pair of my pyjamas, if you want."

Oh, right. Feli said she was getting him a few pairs of clothes and some new shoes. It was Monday, so they were free today to get Antonio discharged from hospital. According to Lovino, their shop was always shut on Mondays.

"No, it's all right. I appreciate it, but you don't have to." Antonio didn't actually want to be alone. It was weird, but Lovino kept him still. Kept him from spiralling into crazed desperation. He kept Roderich quiet.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Really."

Lovino rolled his eyes, muttered something in Italian under his breath and went back to the stove. "So," Lovino said after an extended period of silence, "What do you know about chocolate?"

"Not much," Antonio replied, sitting with his chin to his knees on the couch, the blanket over his shoulders. It was really, really, really chilly. He reached out for the warm water, still on the table. It just made him feel cold from the inside, too. "Basic stuff, I guess. Chocolate comes from the cacao bean."

Lovino snorted. "Is that all you know?"

"…Yes."

"Well, we'll have to work on that. Let's start with something simple." Lovino turned to Antonio and gave him a small smirk. "Where did chocolate originate from?"

Antonio blinked. "Oh wait, I know this." He scratched the back of his head and chewed his bottom lip, before saying, "The…Incas?"

"Aztecs. I knew you'd make that mistake." Turning back to the stove, Lovino asked, "You're not vegetarian or something, right? I'm putting some meat into this."

"Go ahead."

"Okay." Lovino didn't say anything for a few minutes as he cut some chicken up, but then he asked, "Since we know chocolate came from the Americas, do tell, who brought it to Europe?"

"Spain," Antonio replied with a small laugh.

"Right." Lovino paused for a moment, stirring the pasta, before starting on a completely new track. "Montezuma—he was an Aztec king—apparently consumed fifty cups of chocolate a day—cups, because back then, they drank the stuff—as he thought it would increase his sexual prowess." Lovino's laugh was scornful.

"But isn't it an aphrodisiac?"

Lovino shrugged. "It's hard to say. People still debate about it. Chocolate does produce some chemicals linked to sexual pleasure, but behavioural science has no evidence of chocolate being an aphrodisiac. Though we tell our customers that it is because that makes sales almost triple. Especially during Valentine's Day." Lovino stopped now, almost like he was thinking. Then he muttered, "I read too many goddamn studies about this."

Antonio laughed. "About chocolate and sex?" Even from where he was sitting, he watched the back of Lovino's neck and his ears turn violently red.

"No! Just…I read up about chocolate way too much. I don't have a normal hobby."

"That's okay. It's interesting to listen to these things. Who knew you could drink fifty cups of chocolate a day and live to tell the tale?"

"Actually, it's got tons of health benefits. Not the store-bought, mass-produced shit in supermarkets, but the cacao bean? Very healthy. It's really the sugar and the cocoa butter that makes chocolate fattening—and sweeter." Lovino stopped again, turned and gave Antonio a rather puzzled look. "You like dark chocolate? Feli was sure you like the sweeter kind."

Dark chocolate. Antonio could…tolerate it. He honestly didn't eat that much chocolate, anyway. He wasn't obsessed with it. But yes, he liked it when it was sweet and sugary. So obviously, he said, "Dark chocolate is pretty nice, yes."

He. Didn't. Deserve. To. Enjoy. Anything.

Not anymore.

"There's some in the fridge. You can help yourself to it whenever."

Antonio smiled to himself again. Lovino was so interesting. He came off as slightly grumpy but he was actually rather patient. So thoughtful, so gentle. "I appreciate it, but I couldn't."

"Why not? Look, yes, there are some house rules." Lovino turned fully, counting on his fingers. "No illegal substances—"

"Why would I—"

"If you want to read my books, go ahead. But don't fold the corner of the pages. And once you feel better, you have to help out with cleaning."

"Of course! You don't even have to ask."

Lovino turned red again and looked away. "I've never been a landlord before. I have no fucking clue what I'm doing. What's the going rent rate, anyway?" he asked, turning his eyes to the ceiling as though demanding an answer from God himself.

The chill was sudden and horrible. Like his bones were frozen in ice. It was so cold, even though Antonio knew the heat was on. His teeth were chattering as he pulled the blanket closer and curled up into a tight ball. He hated being sick. His nose felt clogged and there was a dull ache over his eyes. His throat constantly itched, and every time he coughed he felt like his ribs were going to crack.

He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead into his knees. He was dimly aware of Lovino's footsteps leaving the room. There was the sound of cupboards opening and closing, some cursing in Italian as something heavy and breakable fell, but a few minutes later, Lovino returned and dumped something on Antonio's shoulders.

It was a parka.

Antonio didn't speak immediately. He just threw it on himself, stuffing his hands through the sleeves and zipping it up. Despite Lovino's smaller build, his parka fit Antonio well. He hadn't been eating much, lately.

"Now pull the hood up," Lovino said, his tone slightly mocking. "You'll look like you're dressed to fight a yeti."

Antonio tried to laugh, but it sounded too much like a cough. He didn't miss Lovino's slight frown.

"You really, really should be lying down."

"I don't want to—um—yeah." Antonio looked away, biting the inside of his cheek. He didn't want to be alone. The horrors of his mind would take over again, and he didn't feel strong enough right now to even try resisting them.

Lovino tilted his head to one side. When he spoke next, it was like he'd read Antonio's mind. "You could just lie down here. It's a large couch, anyway. Besides, your room's not ready yet. I need to put the bed sheets. The pasta's almost done. Eat that, take your medicines—all three hundred of them—and lie down. I don't want to deal with you passing out and dying in my apartment. It's just way too much paperwork."

Antonio did manage a smile at that. "Okay. That sounds good."

The second Antonio saw the pasta, he knew he was going to have a problem with it. Oh, it looked and smelled lovely. But it was cheesy and full of meat and vegetables and was filling. The second he put it in his mouth, it tasted oddly tart. It had nothing to do with the actual taste. His tongue wasn't cooperating.

He felt sick.

Lovino had put his feet up and sat curled on a sofa chair beside the couch, eating hungrily. There was some saved for Feli; she was taking a long time to return. Antonio took a few small bites before he had to stop.

His throat hurt. Everything hurt.

He felt like throwing up.

His hands shook as he put the pasta on the coffee table, unzipping the parka to take clear, slow breaths. Anything to calm the way his stomach was churning. Lovino raised an eyebrow. "What? You don't like it?"

"That's not it. I—" but speaking was a very bad idea. Antonio launched himself off the sofa with energy he didn't know he had and tore towards the bathroom, making it just in time to throw up his breakfast and whatever little he'd had of his lunch down the toilet.

Everything burned. His throat, his eyes, his lungs, everything. Involuntary tears were streaming down his face. His body was on fire although he didn't even have the strength to stay upright anymore—

Lovino was rubbing circles on his back, speaking softly in Italian. His hands came down on Antonio's shoulders, holding him very firmly as he started to sway.

When Antonio was finally done, he almost fell into Lovino's chest. That was it. It was over. He was going to faint.

If only Lovino would allow him too.

"Oh no, no way. Can you hear me? Open your fucking eyes, you need to wash up."

Ugh…why couldn't Lovino just let him be? He didn't have the energy…He couldn't…His vision was breaking apart. He could see spots now, grey and black and dark blue. He knew this. He knew this was what it was like before he passed out.

"Get up." Lovino looped one of Antonio's arms around his shoulders and hoisted him upright. "Stand. Lean on me, but walk."

He felt like a newborn deer, his legs unsteady and uncooperative.

They were at the sink now. He'd managed to walk those three steps to the sink. "Wash your mouth. Come on."

Water gushed out of his trembling hands but Lovino was literally holding onto his shoulders—despite being a head shorter—just to help him stay upright. Antonio's head felt like cotton. Everything swam in and out of focus. Somehow, he washed his mouth and face. He just felt sour and disgusting. But at least it didn't look like his clothes were ruined.

Lovino had looped Antonio's arm around his shoulder again, guiding him to the couch and pushing him into a sleeping position. "I told you," Lovino muttered, draping Antonio with the blanket right up to his neck. "I told you to lie down. But no, who listens to me? I've just looked after thousands of bouts of flu for Feli and eased things up for a dying old man. No, who listens to me, I'm just a stupid chocolate-making idiot." Still ranting in Italian, Antonio heard him march back to the kitchenette and rummage around. Lovino returned with a roll of breath mints. "Can you sit up?"

Sit up? Antonio barely had the strength to talk.

"Okay." Lovino pulled Antonio up by the shoulders and wedged himself between one end of the couch, letting Antonio's head fall into his chest. Lovino was warm. Lovino was the only warm thing in an otherwise freezing room. "Suck on these." He took out a breath mint and placed it in Antonio's hand. "You'll thank me later."

Antonio didn't resist. The taste of the mint was very soothing. It made him feel a little cleaner.

"Ideally, you should take your medicines. But since you've basically thrown up everything you've eaten all day…" Lovino's voice trailed away. "Have some green tea? I mean, it's healthy, and it's basically flavoured water."

"No…"

"You can't take antibiotics on an empty stomach. Dr. Wang told you as much."

"No…"

"Don't be a child." Lovino got up and pushed Antonio back to a sleeping position. "I'm making some green tea, you're going to drink it, and we're not going to have a stupid argument about this, because you don't have the energy and I don't have the patience. Great, I'm glad that's established."

He could hear Lovino walking around, being productive, but Antonio couldn't keep his eyes open. The room was freezing, and the only source of heat was muttering in Italian and opening and closing cabinets. He wanted…someone. Anyone. To just…hold him. Roderich would hold him.

Where was he? Why was his mind so silent? Was it because Antonio was exhausted beyond belief? His eyes fluttered close.

…

…

…

Someone was shaking him awake. "…up, come on. It's warm and it'll help. Get up or I swear I'll start playing Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles, and trust me that's an irritating song to have to wake up to."

Lovino's face finally swam into view. Antonio was processing everything too slowly. The fact that Lovino was helping him into a sitting position, the fact that a hot cup of green tea was shoved into his hands, the fact that his mouth tasted horrible, none of it seemed to add up. He drank automatically, because that was what Lovino was telling him to do, and Antonio couldn't think clearly enough to refuse and go back to sleep.

Then there were the pills Lovino shoved under his nose. Antonio took those too, unable to even acknowledge their poisonous taste. Lovino then took the nearly empty teacup from his hands—nearly empty? How did that happen?—before pushing Antonio's head back down to the couch.

Antonio was asleep in seconds.

Though Mondays were holidays for Lovino, it hadn't felt very restful at all. Between getting Antonio home and having him almost pass out in the bathroom, all Lovino was feeling was enormous stress. It was half past seven in the evening, but the man still hadn't stirred from the couch. He lay there in exactly the same position, eyes shut, breathing punctuated by soft coughs.

Lovino, meanwhile, tried to be as productive as he could. He'd scrubbed the bathroom with so much Lysol that it smelled like a chemical factory. He'd squared up Antonio's new room. Feli had come and gone, leaving Antonio's new clothes there. Emma had dropped in too, although Lovino had stepped outside the apartment with her because he didn't want her to see Antonio like that. She left some homemade soup for Antonio though, which was very sweet. Then, Lovino scrolled through the Dufour Chocolate Contest's website, trying to ignore the way his heart raced.

He still hadn't started making that new praline recipe.

In all honesty, he was having second thoughts about those cacao beans, too. There was a lot more to testing the quality of beans than just checking their colour and smell. Ideally, he should have been examining them for mould or worms as well. At this point, he'd called Ivan up and whined to him for a bit.

Poor Ivan had been at a family get-together, but had calmly told Lovino that he'd tested those beans out himself, to not worry, that everything was perfect, that it was all going to be okay, so please relax, we're going to win this chocolate contest.

Ivan was such a find.

Lovino had then checked Antonio's temperature by putting a hand on his forehead, almost cursing out loud at the way the man's skin scalded his own. That then prompted the forty-five minute exercise of pressing a wet cloth on Antonio's face. He still didn't wake up.

Pneumonia sounded like a shitty thing to be sick with.

Now, finally, Lovino was curled up on the sofa chair with a book Arthur had lent him—Wuthering Heights—although he couldn't shake off the fact that Alfred still had some of his favourite books, and Lovino hadn't yet returned his stuff either.

After twenty minutes of reading without paying attention to the words, he put the book away and reached for his phone.

Lovino: Please drop off my books tomorrow. It's an intellectual apocalypse up in here.

Alfred: hahaha intellectual apocalypse?

Alfred: fine. I need my xbox back too because its a nightmare. My brain needs a break from police reports

Lovino: It's*

Alfred: your as bad as arthur

Lovino: You're*

Lovino: Arthur*

Alfred: stop

Alfred: ooh how's toni? Dr. Wang told me he went home with you

Alfred: its so nice your taking him in

Lovino: Toni*

Lovino: It's*

Lovino: You're*

Alfred: I WILL ARREST YOU

Lovino: An arrest without probable cause is against the law.

Lovino: Antonio's practically comatose on my couch.

Lovino: He has health insurance, along with a banged-up credit card. Obviously, he has a bank account.

Alfred: what's you're point

Lovino: Your*

Alfred: WILL YOU JUST

Alfred: I can never win with you or arthur

Lovino: Arthur*

Alfred: -.-

Lovino: This is one of those times when I will allow myself an emoji.

Lovino: XD

Alfred: Yeah yeah

Alfred: really, what's your point

Alfred: and don't correct my grammar

Lovino: My point is, he has a bank account but is being extremely cagey about personal information.

Lovino: My point is, he's hiding something.

Lovino: My point is, though he's endearing, I'm going to need to know more about him to trust him.

Lovino: If he has a bank account, he's in the system.

Lovino: Why don't you look up Antonio Fernandez Carriedo?

Alfred: "in the system" you sound like a TV show cop

Alfred: I'm not going to look him up without "probable cause"

Alfred: It's illegal

Alfred: tell me something that makes me think he's guilty of a crime, then we'll see

Lovino: I hate the fact that you're so fucking righteous.

Alfred: I hate that you always correct my grammar, so we're square

Alfred: anyway, I have to go

Alfred: the wonderful and fascinating world of documents calls to me

Alfred: what an adventure

Lovino: Bye.

He poured himself a glass of wine before getting back to his book. He kept glancing at Antonio. Earlier, Feli had asked if Lovino needed help taking care of him, but honestly, he didn't. It came as a surprise to most people, but Lovino loved being the carer. It made him feel…useful. Which was something he didn't really get to experience much.

It wasn't something drastic and painful or anything. Lovino just knew that the things he did—making chocolate, running a store, competing against Francis—didn't really make a difference to anybody. Not really. Maybe Ivan wouldn't have a job he was this happy with. Maybe everyone would have to go without quality chocolate during the holidays, but that was about it. Lovino knew all about the environmental and economic side-effects of the global chocolate demand, so constantly ordering cacao beans actually just made him feel worse. But what could he do? He loved this job. He wasn't going to quit it.

So in many ways, Lovino knew his existence didn't matter much to the grand scheme of things. He didn't save lives in a hospital, he didn't give great speeches about non-violent civil disobedience to free countries from foreign powers, he didn't protest against human rights violations, nothing. He was completely normal.

And sure, he did do some good stuff. He loved giving chocolate to orphanages. He loved it when the children screamed and smiled and hugged his waist because they were so tiny and couldn't reach any higher. He pretended to hate it, but he actually enjoyed it very much.

But it wasn't enough. It didn't feel like enough.

So when he'd saved Antonio's life…he'd done something important. Something significant for someone else. And he'd happily make sure he was recovering, too. Because it was easy to say that he was helping Antonio, but the fact was Antonio was helping him right back.

From the corner of his eyes, Antonio stirred. Lovino lowered the book. Antonio's face had morphed into a frown, and without warning, he let out a gasp.

"Hey, are you all right?"

"No…" It was so slurred. Antonio whimpered and turned on his side. "No, don't go…Roderich…no…"

"What the fuck?" Lovino whispered to himself, putting the book down. He got off the sofa chair and took several quiet steps towards Antonio. There were tears slipping down his unconscious face. He was having a nightmare.

Antonio's words fell into incoherent mumbling but the tears only got worse. He was wincing and whimpering in his sleep. Fever and delirium always fucked the mind up. "Antonio, it's okay, nothing's wrong." He knelt beside him, gently shaking his shoulder. Lovino then pressed his hand to his forehead. Antonio's skin was as hot as ever.

"Goddammit." Lovino ran his fingers through Antonio's hair. It was dry and lifeless. "It's okay. You're safe. It's all right. Just calm down."

Antonio turned, pressing his face into Lovino's stomach. The gesture was so surprising that Lovino almost cried out, biting his bottom lip at the last minute. He wasn't a pillow, dammit. But…whatever. Lovino switched to rubbing circles on his back instead, telling him how it was safe and okay and all right.

Twenty minutes.

They sat like that for twenty minutes, Lovino's knees screaming as they pressed against the floorboards.

But Antonio finally quietened, going still in Lovino's arms. His breathing evened out, and Lovino sighed in relief.

That had been scary.

Antonio's eyes snapped open.

Everything was dark. There was only that huge window across the living room, its curtains pulled back. Even from his prone position on the couch, he could see the lights of the town. But Antonio couldn't make out any noises. Not yet.

His eyes adjusted slowly and he blinked. His head wasn't hurting, but it felt heavy. He felt heavy. Sweaty and groggy and tired. Each deep breath came with a slight shudder. But the room wasn't so cold anymore. In fact, the parka he was wearing was uncomfortably hot now.

Sounds started coming back. The hum of the refrigerator. The rustle of the blanket. Soft breathing.

Breathing? It wasn't him…

Antonio squinted in the darkness, his eyes slowly making out a figure on the sofa chair. Oh. Oh wow. Lovino had curled up on it, asleep. That couldn't have been comfortable…

Antonio forced himself upright, because the parka was starting to suffocate him. He unzipped it and pulled it off himself. He was so sweaty, it was disgusting. His mouth tasted bad. His shirt stuck to his body. He felt frail and unsteady, but he kicked the blanket off himself and swung his legs down. His unclothed feet touched the cold floorboards. Antonio rubbed his eyes.

Food.

He needed food.

What time was it?

He knew it had been afternoon when he'd thrown up and (fallen asleep? Fainted? A combination of both?). But his memories were vague and rather fuzzy. He'd had one nightmare, but something had driven it away. The rest of his sleep had been rather undisturbed.

Antonio could see the blinking light of Lovino's phone on the coffee table, and he reached out for it. The glow it emitted as he pressed random buttons was enough to tempt another headache, but he squinted and checked the time anyway before putting it aside.

It was half past four in the morning.

He'd been asleep for over twelve hours.

And he was now starving.

Antonio pushed himself off the couch, not stirring an inch as the world swayed around him. His brain acclimatised to the movement though, and he took a tentative step.

Would Lovino mind him raiding the fridge?

Antonio opened it, wincing as the yellow light shot into his eyes. He blinked and internally cussed as he glanced through the contents. The fridge was pretty empty, except for a box that must have contained chocolate and a carton of milk and orange juice. There were some Tupperware containers, probably holding leftovers, but Antonio didn't want that. He didn't trust his stomach yet.

Juice sounded good. Juice sounded safe. And it would go down easily, too. He reached out for it and put it on the counter. Antonio closed the fridge but didn't dare turn on the light. He didn't want to wake Lovino. But where were the glasses kept?

Antonio opened a cabinet. But he couldn't actually see anything. He stuck his hand in, but all he could feel were metallic utensils. He did that with the next one, too. But there were plates and bowls. He was also terrified he might end up breaking something.

"I mean, it would help if you turned on a light."

The voice made him jump almost three inches into the air, and he turned sharply. Lovino's silhouette slid off the sofa chair. Antonio heard him yawn and stretch, before he heard soft footsteps going across the room. A firm click, and the yellow bulb above the sink turned on.

Antonio blinked, trying to get used to it. He was dimly aware of Lovino going up to him, opening another cabinet and taking out a glass. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." Antonio's voice sounded rough and felt painful.

"At least you're conscious."

Antonio watched Lovino pour the juice for him. "Did I wake you?" Antonio asked in a small voice, mumbling a soft thank-you as Lovino gave him the glass.

"Not exactly. I've been waking up at random times you check on you, anyway."

"Oh! You didn't have to!"

"Are you mad? You were asleep for so long, I was legitimately afraid you'd died."

Antonio wasn't sure if Lovino was joking or not, but there wasn't a trace of humour on his face. Antonio sat at the dining table as Lovino started on making himself a cup of coffee. The juice was gloriously cold. He knew he wasn't supposed to be having it so chilled, but it cooled him down from the inside. It changed the taste in his mouth, too, and filled his stomach. Swallowing wasn't even very painful.

"Do you want to eat something? I really recommend it," Lovino muttered without looking at Antonio. "My girlfriend stopped by and left you some soup. You want that?"

For the strangest reason, Antonio felt a little thrown at the mention of a girlfriend. For two weeks, he'd only heard of Ivan and Francis, Gilbert and Ludwig. He'd only spoken to Feli and Lovino. So the random inclusion of another person was…startling.

"You have a girlfriend?"

"The tone of surprise," Lovino retorted dryly, his tone slightly amused.

"No, I mean…well, you never mentioned her before."

"…I guess I didn't," Lovino agreed slowly, as though just realising this. "Emma," he added, as though trying to rectify a fault. "So, do you want the soup?"

Antonio drained his glass of juice but he was still so hungry. "I wouldn't mind."

"Great. It's in the fridge, a green box. Could you get it?"

"Yeah, okay."

It was chicken soup with lots of vegetables. It tasted like mush in Antonio's mouth, but Lovino had heated it in the microwave and the more he ate, the better he felt. Lovino felt Antonio's forehead, paused for a few seconds, and then said, "Yeah, I think your fever's broken."

They sat across from each other, with Lovino sipping his coffee. "I'll have to go to work in a couple of hours. Will you be okay alone?"

"I guess so. Don't worry about me. I'm far tougher than you think."

"Yeah. Okay."

Afterwards, Antonio lay down on the couch again and fell asleep, feeling healthier than he had in hours.

Lovino would have liked to amend his previous statement. He didn't 'not trust', Antonio. He just didn't know enough about him to be one hundred percent comfortable leaving him alone in his house with all his valuables. But somehow, they'd survived their first—rather difficult—night together. And Antonio seemed…nice. Really nice.

Lovino threw together a light breakfast with lots of fruit and porridge. He'd never eat something like this himself, but Feli had bought some from the store yesterday and told him it was really easy to eat and Antonio would appreciate that. He was still fast asleep when Lovino left the apartment, writing a note and placing it on the dining table.

He was very distracted at work. His movements were automatic, lacking his usual passion. Feli gave him this long, understanding look. "How's he doing?"

Lovino shrugged. "He'll live."

"Do you want me to check on him later?"

"Yeah. Do that." Lovino's eyes slid to the box he'd placed on the floor. He had to find a somewhere to keep that. Alfred's stuff. It would be strange to finally give all of that away. But he'd texted Alfred this morning. He was dropping off the books, too.

Argh, dammit.

Lovino: Meet me for lunch?

Emma: But what about Toni?

Lovino: Toni?

Lovino: Not you too.

Emma: Huh?

Lovino: Nothing. Felicia's going to check on him later.

Emma: I'd love to meet up but I'm not sure if I can.

Emma: We've got a new employee.

Emma: Well, he's actually the boss's grandson :'D

Emma: And he's got a bad attitude.

Emma: And I have to show him the ropes.

Lovino: Who is this guy?

Emma: Ugh, some douche named Tim.

Emma: Nobody's telling me anything but I *think* he's a recovering addict.

Emma: I don't even know.

Emma: Anyway, yeah, so the boss made him work here to get his life in order or something.

Emma: And now I have to deal with it.

Lovino: Sounds like you need to have lunch with me to work off all that stress.

Lovino: And this is where a flirtatious 'wink' face would be appropriate.

Emma: Haha xD

Emma: I'll try, but I'm not making any promises.

Lovino: Okay. Let me know.

Lovino: Good luck for your day.

He waited for a response, but it never came. Lovino sighed, pocketing his phone. He so didn't want to deal with Alfred right now. He was tired, worried about Antonio, and now his girlfriend was busy. This was just turning out to be a bad day, wasn't it?

Confrontation. Facing fears. Looking terror in the eye and saying, fuck you.

"Fuck you," Lovino whispered quietly at the ingredients before him. Ivan, a few feet away, snorted to himself without looking up. Lovino's eyes wandered to him for a moment. Ivan was pouring chocolate into moulds. So easy. So painless.

And here Lovino was, confronting his fear of failure.

There was a bowl of those exquisite cacao beans from Ecuador. An unopened bottle of coffee liqueur. Powdered sugar. A bottle of honey. A bowl of chopped hazelnuts. Edible silver glitter.

"Are you just going to stand there and cuss at it, or are you actually going to get started?" Ivan teased, still not looking up.

"Shut up."

This was it. This was the recipe. He had to do it. Lovino had been putting this off for too freaking long. He had to make it, he had to taste it, and he absolutely had to win the Dufour Chocolate Contest. And he would. Because this was the perfect praline recipe. Because he'd never made anything like this before. Because he'd been working on his for several months.

"On second thought, the edible glitter makes it look like a whore among chocolates," Lovino groaned, burying his head in his hands.

"Whore among chocolates," Ivan repeated, this time looking up and blinking at Lovino. "That's a pretty tasteless description, even for you."

"Tasteless description for a tasteless chocolate," Lovino quipped darkly, not lifting his head from his hands. "This needs work. It's not ready. I can't do this."

"Not again." Ivan took the mould tray and put it in the freezer, before turning on his heels and marching up to Lovino. He placed both hands on Lovino's shoulder, spun him around to look him in the eye, hunched his shoulders to get to Lovino's level and firmly said, "The. Recipe. Is. Amazing."

"You don't know that! We've not made it yet!"

"And why is that?" Ivan drawled.

Lovino went scarlet. "Because I—it doesn't feel right."

"You just think so because you're worried it'll be anything less than perfect."

"But it will!"

"Of course it will. But then we'll change it, add to it, fix it, and then it will be perfect. And we'll win. You'll see!"

"We're doomed."

"Lovino! Positive thinking!"

"I'm positive we're doomed."

"Okay, fine." Ivan crossed his arms, his lips becoming a thin line as he placed Lovino under a cold stare. "I'll make it myself, if you're so worried."

"What—no! I—I mean, this is—my recipe! Don't you think I should—oh, whatever the fuck." Lovino's mind was at it again, with fifty different—mostly pointless—opinions flying about. Almost like a parliamentary debate, honestly. He wanted to make this chocolate. But he also didn't. He wanted Ivan to do it for him. But he also wanted to do it himself. He thought the recipe was flawless. But he also thought it could be improved. Feli thought the edible glitter would make it pretty and Lovino had agreed with her. Now, he was having his doubts. Not just about the glitter, but of everything. Did honey go with coffee liqueur? Was the sugar enough? How dark did he want it to be, again?

Lovino took an actual step away from the kitchen counter, shaking his head with his eyes wide. "I need a moment."

"You're being melodramatic," Ivan informed him in a matter-of-fact tone as Lovino walked towards the storage room and shut the door behind him. He turned on the lights, their white glare making everything stand out sharply. There were boxes and sacks and more freezers, shelves and cases of chocolates ready for delivery.

Lovino went towards one of the many freezers. They made most of their chocolate beforehand and stored them there. There was no way they'd manage otherwise. He opened it, reaching out for a tray of pralines. He remembered making these yesterday.

Lovino was very firm with his employees. Eating the produce was flatly not allowed. What would they sell? What if they fell short? Even Feli usually adhered to this rule, proof of how strict Lovino was about it.

But…right now, he just needed a pick-me-up.

And nothing better than this.

They were very dark chocolates. Eighty percent cacao. Lovino picked one up and stared at its near-black exterior. The cocoa had been blended with cherry extracts, giving it the flavour an interesting, unexpected twist. And it had a rum filling, too.

This praline was called Mozart Symphony 25. An ostentatious name? Not in Lovino's opinion. The taste always reminded him of that particular musical piece. Dark, tart, sweetened and warmed by the rum, unravelling on his tongue better than the finest kiss.

This was, and always would be, Lovino's favourite chocolate.

And right now, he needed it.

He put it whole into his mouth, sucking on it. Eyes closed in pleasure as the cherry and the cacao hit him together, the rum breaking through the chocolate barrier, acting as an emulsifier, melting the rest of the praline down.

So good.

This was one of Lovino's triumphs. This was what had made food guides stop and turn heads, this was what had given him the initial success. Lovino owed so much to this little chocolate recipe.

He swallowed it too soon. Now he needed another. Just one more.

He opened the freezer again, already salivating at the thought. Another praline held between his fingers. Lovino put it in his mouth. It wouldn't solve his problem, but it would definitely inspire him to deal with it.

"Lovino!"

He shoved the tray of chocolates back into the freezer and jumped to his feet, just in time for Ivan to open the storage room door and peer inside. "Lovino!" he said again, "Alfred's here."

His heart gave an uncharacteristic start as Lovino wiped his hands on his apron. "He is?" Alfred's shirts and Xbox were in the kitchen, where the cleaning supplies were kept. Lovino hadn't any other place to store them.

This felt symbolic. He walked out of the storage room, found the box with Alfred's things and stared defiantly at the door leading to the front of the shop. Hopefully, this wouldn't be too awkward. His mind was on overdrive once again. He passed the counter with the untouched ingredients from before still sitting there. "Put those away," he mumbled to Ivan.

"What!? You're procrastinating again?"

"Just do it, Ivan. Please."

Lovino pushed the door open and stepped out. The yellow shop lights were so much softer than the glare of the white kitchen ones. Alfred was standing there, a box under his arm, dressed fully in his police officer uniform. He was peering intently at the selection of chocolates, but when Lovino approached the counter, he looked up and grinned. "Hey, you."

"Don't 'hey, you' me," Lovino muttered. "Let's not make this any more awkward than it has to be."

Alfred laughed, but his cheeks were slightly pink as he placed the box on the counter. It was filled to the brim with all of Lovino's favourite books. 'Boring classics', as Alfred had always called them. "That's everything," he said simply. "Sorry this took so long. I just kept forgetting."

"It's fine. I kept forgetting as well." Lovino handed Alfred his things. He'd made sure each shirt had been washed and ironed. He didn't want this to have been the sort of relationship where he returned Alfred's clothes dirty and smelly from months ago. Despite everything, he didn't hate Alfred. Could anybody, really?

"Thanks." Alfred took the box from Lovino and looked inside. "Oh! You washed them!"

"Yeah…"

"That's so cool. Thanks. I really appreciate it." He had this bright sunshine smile—as always—and then the expression gradually decreased into something a little more…tender. "I'm sorry again, Lovi. I hurt you pretty badly. There's really no excuse. I was selfish."

Lovino just stared at him for several seconds. There was nothing more to say. He was all right now. He averted his gaze. It had been a bad couple of months, but both of them had moved on. They were happy. But this still made him feel a little vulnerable. "It's all right. It doesn't matter. Shit happens."

"…Yeah…"

"You're happy with Kiku, aren't you?"

Alfred looked slightly guilty, but then the tiniest smile graced his lips. He nodded, shy. "Very."

"Then it's water under the bridge." Lovino paused, staring intently at his shoes.

"Um…yeah…Hehe…" He actually said 'hehe' aloud. It wasn't an uncomfortable laugh, but a word. Alfred plastered on another smile. "Speaking of water and bridges, how's Antonio doing?"

"He's fine."

"That's good. And…Emma?"

"She's…fine, too."

"Yeah? That's wonderful." Alfred cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Anyway, I should really…"

"Yeah…it's a working day…"

"Yep…"

"Uh-huh…" Alfred took a step backwards and then another. "Thanks again, Lovino. See you later?" He let out a high, nervous laugh.

And then Alfred was gone.

Lovino sighed loudly, slumping against the nearest wall, pressing the bridge of his nose intermittently as he rubbed his eyes. Now he was going to need another chocolate.

"Hellooooo? Toni?" Felicia unlocked her brother's apartment with her set of spare keys and entered. In one hand she had soup, something she'd picked up from a restaurant. The house was completely quiet. She set the soup down on the dining table before calling out again. "Antonio? It's me, Feli!"

From the room that had once been Felicia's, she heard a noise. It was strange to think that there was someone else in her old room now, but she was secretly happy. At least it wasn't just lying there, abandoned. The door opened, and Antonio blinked wearily at her. "Oh, hey!"

He'd so obviously just woken up. He looked crumpled. Not just his clothes—which, Feli noticed were the same from yesterday morning—but also his hair, his posture, his general demeanour. He smiled at her before approaching.

"How do you feel?" Feli asked, lowering her voice in case he had a headache.

"Tired," Antonio laughed softly, on cue sitting down cross-legged on the couch, as though the walk from the bedroom to the living room had drained him.

"Did you eat anything?" Feli raised her eyebrows.

"I ate a bit of breakfast. I was basically just sleeping all day, though. I woke up a few minutes before you came. What time is it?"

"Lunch time. I got you some soup! Lovino asked me to check on you since he was really busy." She dropped her voice, leaned in closer to Antonio's face and whispered, "Plus, Alfred was dropping off his stuff and Lovino was returning Alfred's clothes, so I figured it was just better to clear off."

"Alfred?" Antonio frowned curiously. "Oh, you mean Officer Jones?"

"Yes! Him!"

"Why would Lovino have his shirts?"

Feli's stomach dropped. Crap. "He…didn't tell you, did he? Oh, oops." She buried her head in her hands. "I'm so ditzy sometimes."

Antonio cocked his head to the side. "Did they go out or something?"

Feli didn't look up, but she nodded.

"Oh."

At this, Felicia did look up. Antonio appeared a little bit…put out.

He said, "They appeared so comfortable with each other, though…"

"Yeah, they are. It's really strange, but I think it's okay. Alfred's a good person, really."

"He seemed nice," Antonio was staring flatly at the wall behind her.

Huh? This was…odd behaviour. Feli narrowed her eyes for a fraction of a moment, but didn't bother commenting. Antonio's eyes sparkled again as he looked back at her, a grin on his face. "How has your day been going so far?"

"Oh, it's been all right." She went to the dining table, uncapping the plastic container of soup and taking out two bowls from the cabinet. "Do you like your new room?"

"Yes! It's lovely! It used to be yours, right?"

"Yeah!" Feli turned and grinned at him. "Lots of memories in that room, both good and bad. But I'm happy Lovino has someone staying with him again. He wouldn't say, but I always thought he was a little lonely after I left." Feli placed the two bowls beside each other in the microwave. "I mean, he tried asking Emma—did he tell you about Emma?—to move in with him, but she didn't want to take it so fast, you know?"

"He told me about Emma," Antonio said quietly.

"That's great! Well, anyway, I'm sure he likes the company. Lovi's way too proud to ask for other people's time. He can be unintentionally funny like that." Feli giggled. She loved talking about her brother. He was so cute. Literally everything he did made her want to laugh, sometimes with him, and sometimes at him.

"Is it all right if I have a shower?"

Felicia turned, giving Antonio a questioning look. "You don't need my permission."

His cheeks darkened and he looked away. "I didn't want to intrude or anything…"

"Don't be silly! Of course you can have a shower. Do you need help figuring out the faucets? You know, the knobs for hot and cold water?"

"No, I'll do it myself." He smiled at her now. "I'll eat and have a shower. I've been feeling so gross."

"Yeah, it'll refresh you!" Though a thought entered her mind, and Felicia blurted it out without even thinking. Luddy had kept telling her about being careful of what she said, but Feli knew she had this nasty habit of just spouting everything she thought of. Now, she asked, "But you'll be all right, won't you? It must have been so awful to almost drown, and then the thought of having a shower…"

Antonio gave her a blank look. "Well, I took showers in the hospital too…"

"Yeah, but you weren't totally alone back then!"

He tilted his head to the side, giving her a slightly amused smile. "I've had worse things happen to me than one incident of near-drowning. I promise I'm not traumatised or anything."

Felicia just stared. "What? What's worse than almost drowning?"

"Actually drowning?" Antonio's eyes glittered with humour.

Felicia smiled. It was a soft, hesitant, cautious smile. This whole conversation didn't seem entirely normal. She stared at him. Antonio's sickly, thin body with his floppy hair falling over his eyes. What had happened to him?

Somewhere in the back of her mind, the microwave beeped. She forced herself to look at it, staring at the digital green numbers without registering them. "That's done," she said, more to herself than to Antonio. "Let's eat."

-/-

"Let's talk about curtains."

...

...

...

I wish we hadn't.

A/N: I am having genuine confidence issues about the writing quality of this fic. This chapter was difficult to write, and I have no idea why. I'm just glad it's over, haha. I'm so excited about the next one! :D

EDIT: Yes, the ending is supposed to confuse you. I promise it's all leading up to something. xD

EDIT 2: Antonio's reaction to Lovino's relationships...is not jealousy. THINGS WILL BECOME CLEARER NEXT CHAPTER, I PROMISE XD

Thanks for reading! Please review :D