With two personal bests for timekeeping in as many days, Lovino Vargas was doing well. He had been sitting with their coffee since quarter to ten, hers black, his the best he could do for himself. He had practically forgotten everything that went into it. It was now ten past, and in any other instance he would have been simmering away quietly in his office, ready to explode when the offender dared to show their face. But no, that wouldn't do. Calm, collected, coffee-bringer. These would be his new accolades. No employee could hold anything against him when he was so thoughtful, surely.

Antonia had swung out the elevator, her breath squeaking from the cold. Her face was all cherry red, with just a little bit of bogeys running. Quickly fixing that, she knew she couldn't afford to be late any longer. The rumors she had overheard from the cubicle section behind her own little wall while a few girls were having their lunch breaks weren't helping matters. 'Heard last time a girl was late with his cold coffee, he threw it down her shirt...' Oh god—

He brought his head up at the sound of heels clacking through the corridor, and was shocked into an awkward, accepting smile when Antonia hurried in, looking frozen and rushed.

"Shi—" She hissed, slamming the door back when he was in there. He was worse then the fucking Grudge! Antonia calmly but swiftly tugged off her coat and scarf, throwing her purse into her chair. Okay. Take two.

She strolled in with her face composed and calm, setting down his coffee, but looking confused when he had some by his side. "Good morning, Mr. Vargas," Antonia told him, although it sounded like a question.

"Yes, thanks," He answered, holding up her coffee with what he hoped was confidence, when in reality he let out a slightly nervous sigh. He corrected himself quickly. "You take it black?"

"Yeah, yeah," She replied, still confused. "Thank you," Why did he get here so early? Well, according to this clock over here, it was ten forty-five. He didn't come until eleven. Then all hell usually broke loose with the phones. "So did your alarm go off early or...?"

He snorted and shook his head. "I thought it would be good to put in some more time," He shrugged, looking at her. "You don't think I make an effort now and again?"

No, you sit and stare at me all day. "Oh, sometimes. On a good day," She joked with a plastic smile, taking her coffee from him with silent thanks.

He nodded and took his own coffee, raising it to his mouth for a sip. Eugh. Awkwardly, he pushed it aside and took the coffee Antonia had brought him. Much better. "You seem cold," he said, for the sake of making conversation.

Antonia touched her cheek, feeling the cold bite of the London air on her cheeks. "Oh," She blurted, getting kind of embarrassed. "Well, um, I overslept, and I couldn't get my scarf on all that way..."

"You don't need to make excuses for being cold," he said shortly, looking at her, almost offended. "What do you think I'm going to do?"

"Tan my hide? There are rumors going around. You must really intimidate people. Not like I'd know..." Antonio coughed, nearly downing her drink from the warm powers it possessed.

Lovino was quite sure her hide was tan enough, like the rest of her. Oh, God. He'd just made an internal ass joke. He was a horrible boss and should be found out and fired immediately. "I'm not that bad," he argued feebly.

Antonia shrugged. "You may not be to me, at least, not since the first day, but there was a pack of girls outside my window telling each other stories about encounters with you." That had almost sounded a little too much like encounters with ghosts or demons, perhaps. However, he did look nice today she'd give him that.

God, 'encounters'. As if, he was constantly on the warpath. Ha, 'as if'. Although he was fairly certain Antonia wasn't telepathic, he still felt extremely nervous for thinking of her in a sexualized fashion that men in the workplace were always being told off for, even for a second. For in the off chance she had known, everything would go down the pipes and he'd have no assistant and a reputation as filthy as his mind. He quickly decided that he had to be as respectable as possible, just in case. He wasn't even interested in her like that. It had just been a lapse. "That's unfortunate," He muttered, taking another sip of his coffee, although he wanted to pry.

"They even said you once threw a cup of coffee at a girl who didn't answer an important phone call." She said after him, her eyes unconsciously admiring the curve of his jaw and the amber-hazel-green of his eyes.

"What?" He snapped, losing any cool-headedness he had. "That never happened!"

"Well, there's worse," She piped under her breath. "They said something about breaking a cell phone, and—" She shook her head, ripping away from the twists and turns of Lovino's hair. "I'm sorry, sir,"

"No, go on," He pressed, straightening up and crossing his arms.

She tugged back a curl of her hair, shaming herself for not pulling it back far enough. "Well, they said you also threw one of the sketchbooks of a designer in the trash and walked out..." Antonia busied herself so she wouldn't have to look at his obviously getting-worked-up posture. "Just coffee-talk; gossip, really,"

Shit. That had been months ago, he didn't think anyone remembered that... "I never broke anyone's phone," He insisted, dropping his head to look at his coffee.

Antonia had heard other things, too, things that deserved to stay in high school. Affairs, as if either of them were married— she had checked, also, sex nights, one-night stands, meet-me-in-my-office behind the desks…

Her nails scratched her coffee cup, silently building up anger. She wished she could fire people.

Lovino tensed at her silence, looking up with a more nervous expression than he would have liked. "You don't believe them?"

"No, I mean," She scoffed, setting her cup down with a fuss. "No, I don't."

"Listen, Antonia," he started, not quite believing her. "I'm not a bad person..." Yes, you are. "I... I lose my temper, I get distracted, I talk without thinking, but... half the things you've heard are probably lies, I'm not like that," he spoke quickly, becoming flustered at the thought of someone else turning against him.

"You should have heard the things they said about me. No, sir, I don't believe them." She said with her tone a bit more firm then what was required. "They need to go back to high school." She grumbled, taking one more sip before packing up her things to start the day.

He considered that for a moment, and stopped her before she went out to her desk, irritation clear in his tone, with a protective edge to it. "Who? What were they saying?"

"Mr. Vargas, settle down, I'm fine." She advised, ducking around his arm. "Just a couple of ignorant souls about to get their ass kicked if they don't straighten up and do their jobs." She said a bit louder, pointed towards their famous coffee break area.

He smirked at her, almost laughing. "I didn't realize that was your call."

"That's actually Human Resource's call." Antonia hung up her coat and scarf on the little hanger beside her desk, worrying about the heel on her shoe she had forgotten on the way over; how it was threatening to snap off.

Oh, touché.

He shook his head, amused, handing over her commotion sheet and dropping his tone, looking her in the eye to make sure their conversation could be held as quietly as possible. "Tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable," He told her, although he wasn't sure what he'd do if she did come to him with a complaint. It felt like the right thing to say.

The way he held himself made her uncomfortable. She somehow felt bigger than he did, but still, crippled by what he thought she was capable of. "Alright," She smiled, turning on her computer. Those girls were probably just all Facebook-deprived anyway.

Good. He stood at her desk for a second with nothing to say. He opened his mouth, but just shrugged and pointed to his office, giving a slightly nervous laugh under his breath before he left.

She moved her folders to block the window looking to her desk, right next to the computer screen so she could have maximum privacy. Awkward little turtle of a man was always ogling at her working, something he hadn't done.

Commotion list... Oh, today's rather laid back. Yay, Tuesdays.

. 0 .

For some reason that night, sleep was hard to come by. She was up all night staring at her 1990 brand television in her room, tuned into an infomercial. Laser hair removal was nice. But she wasn't focused on rip offs on adds or cooking tuna fish thirty different ways. Lovino had seemed friendlier, more complex then she liked. She had begun to love his attention, for he really was a nice man when he tried, instead of detesting his gaze. Antonia might have had a little, very little, something for her boss.

This was highly unacceptable. She was usually the one being hit on. Antonia rubbed her eyes at her desk, getting ready for another coffee run after listening to a horribly angry client. This job was only worth the man she worked for and the money she made.

Lovino picked up an order that had been printed through to his office, and went to hand it to his assistant. She had seemed much more at ease with him, and he liked to think, at least, he hoped, it was because he had got over his stupid crush on her. Well, not over, over. He still thought she could be quite stunning, on occasion.

And witty. And caring. And good at her job— okay, he wasn't over it, so what?

He had learned not to act on it, and that was what mattered. He stopped at her desk, holding back on giving her more work while she rubbed her face, looking exhausted. "What's the matter with you?" He asked.

"I was up all night thinking about yo—…gurt." She stumbled, rubbing her temples. "And one of your clients just gave me a lashing in Spanish and unfortunately I understood everything," Antonia hoped to god that her little dozy mess-up would not fail her today. "I'll get your coffee; just let me finish up this spreadsheet."

"Yogurt?" He repeated, scoffing and shaking his head. "Ignore it; they all expect work done for them." Whoa. Shit. Shit. "I meant at that office, I didn't mean Spaniards." Stress, screaming and casual racism — their silent office romance had it all.

"No problem." Antonia barely even caught that. "Italians always overwork themselves so it gives us Spaniards something to do." She got up, wearing ballet flats today since she literally could not bear to be on tiptoes for eight hours for six days straight. She tugged on her coat, wrapped herself up in her scarf and threw on her gloves. She was going to need an extra shot of caffeine in her cup.

Phew. She saved him from a badly timed slur once again. "Oh," he said, without any intention to do so, as she stood up, holding the order forms in his hand. "I was going to ask..." She's already getting your coffee, Vargas, be a fucking man. He went to talk again, and realized she seemed much shorter today. He looked down at her shoes, thin and flimsy. "You're going out?"

"Yeah, I was getting us our coffee." She answered, feeling like the kid he talked her down to be months ago without her extra four inches. "What would you like to know?" She buttoned up her trench coat, throwing on her loose beanie cap for good measure. Hot.

But there was snow on the ground... well, slush, they were in central London and nothing stayed white and pure for long, but the sentiment remained. "You, uh..." He handed her the order form and sighed, not in exasperation, but in preparation, feeling both proud of himself and extremely embarrassed. "You make four copies of that and I'll go out."

"You don't even know what you like to drink," She teased, setting it down for later. "I'll be fine; it's just down a few blocks. Besides, I just got all bundled up." Antonia never minded a little slush or some ice. If she came back clutching her tailbone from a lousy slip, sure, Lovino could go out with a post-it note of what he liked in his mocha.

"Then write it down for me and get unbundled," he told her, turning to go to his office and get his own coat. This was an excellent display of compassion and chivalry and she wasn't allowed to mess it up. "... Your feet will freeze."

She looked down. Her feet were looking happy as clams, grateful for a day without molding to a high heel's cramptastic form. She was looking shorter, which probably got Lovino his extra boost of confidence and man-funk for the day. "We could go together." She offered, wanting to be away from the phone.

That really wasn't productive. Moreover, it could only result in awkward conversation or a fall-out over a badly phrased joke. "Okay..." he answered, hearing his voice as if separate from his body. He had meant to say no, honest. "If you're sure,"

"My feet aren't going to get frostbite, if that's what you're worried about." She laughed, setting her computer on locked-mode in case one of the girls wanted to root through her files. Locked her new sketchbook in the desk as well, along with her other things she could be rooted out for. Damn sneaky foxes, never did have the heart to tell Lovino what was going on.

He gave a nod, to say, 'of course, ha-ha...' and went to his office to bundle himself up, too. Going for coffee together. That was fine. Sounded like a date, but it wasn't a date, because it was coffee he had with her everyday, and now, they were having it outside the office building instead. All fine. He wasn't anxious in the slightest. He stepped back out in his long coat, winding a scarf around his neck. "All set?"

Yeah, just making sure these sluts don't steal my phone and go through it!

She took it anyways, nodding, setting up the re-direct system if anyone needed to call Lovino. "Sure am! I have an extra pair of gloves if you need them."

He looked at her, about to laugh, and realized she was serious. He was all for equality and everything (having turned a new leaf), but he wasn't wearing women's gloves. "I'm fine," he shook his head, holding a hand out to signal her to go first.

Oh. "Alright then! They were just black unisex gloves. But, if you'd rather stick to freezing your fingers off. Cool with me." Antonia chirped, calling the elevator and giving a fucking obvious glare to the girls eyeing her desk with interest. She was short today, but that didn't mean she wasn't just as sassy.

Damn, he couldn't really change his mind without being obviously petulant and somewhat sexist. He'd stick his hands in his pockets and it would be fine. The elevator pinged and he let her go in first, jabbing the button to take them to the ground floor.

They were totally going to fucking try something. They always did. Too bad, all of her drawers were locked up tighter then a closet of gifts on the day before Christmas. She scowled at them, who just looked frightened and a bit freaked out. She'd get the permission to fire someone eventually. Tch.

Lovino frowned at being ignored, looking over at her, noticing the scowl on her face. Had he done something wrong? "What's the matter?"

Just as Antonia was imagining their little sorry faces as they got their things together from their gay ass cubicles, she was caught. "Oh! Sorry," She smiled, stomping her feet a little bit to get rid of the extra anger. "Nothing's the matter, how about you?"

"I'm fine," he nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking at her, thinking of how defensive she always was in front of the rest of the office. "Is someone bothering you?"

"Nah! Say, this isn't the best time, but do I have the power to fire someone?" She asked, looking up at him, her yellow beanie flopping over the top of her head. Just look innocent and curious. That's all. "Just curious,"

"Depends what the problem is," he answered, shrugging. "I'm your boss, directly. I could fire you... but with anyone else, it would be a company problem. I suppose if I put a word in to whomever that could it would happen. So, yes,"

Fuck. Looks like the spies would have to stay until she got enough backbone to finally beat the shit out of them verbally. "Okay, thanks." She sang, stepping out into the ground floor with a slight frown. "It must feel nice to just say 'you're fired' to your assistants!"

He looked around at her quickly. "I'm not going to fire you," he assured her, walking across the floor and holding the door for her.

Ah, that settled her spirits. She thanked him and scowled to something new. The weather. Flurries a' plenty, and it was only five o' clock. She pulled up her beanie and dug her toes into her flats, waiting for her trusty boss.

He frowned and stood by her at the door, digging his chin into his scarf. "You can go back upstairs," he told her, thinking of her toes.

"And catch those little rats in the act, maybe," She grumbled into her scarf. "No, no, I'll be fine. Last time you ordered your own coffee you said it tasted like dirt."

He looked around at her. Deep breath and step into it, get it over with. He went into the snow, big flakes catching in his hair immediately, waiting for her to do the same.

Antonia walked into that shit like it was fucking sunshine and rainbows. Although she hadn't seen a lick of sunshine; nor a rainbow in the past few months. "Have you ever heard of a product Head and Shoulders?" She asked, tiptoeing up to his shoulder to brush back a clump or two.

"Ha-ha," he said, looking across at her, already feeling his nose tingling with the cold. "Because it looks like dandruff, very funny..."

"I've never seen you outside before, is all," She laughed, skidding across a patch of ice with practiced, but a little unsteady, grace. "You're going to be a cotton ball when we get back. Here." She took her beanie and slid it over his head, wary of the curl that looked like some sort of ironic fashion statement.

He had put his hand out to stop her from falling, but she had managed to save herself, and by the time he had realized everything was fine after that little moment of blind panic, he had a hat on. He grumbled and took it off, spinning around to face her. "Don't do that; just keep your hat on..."

"Aw? Do I not wear enough blue and beige for you?" She asked, tugging it back on. What a grumpy boss. She was only trying to be a good assistant, but he forced himself along... She yawned, getting another impact from the two hours of sleep.

"Don't start," he warned her, watching his footing carefully. God, if he fell in front of her. He'd never live it down.

He frowned and stood by her at the door, digging his chin into his scarf. "You can go back upstairs," he told her, thinking of her toes.

"And catch those little rats in the act, maybe," She grumbled into her scarf. "No, no, I'll be fine. Last time you ordered your own coffee you said it tasted like dirt."

He looked around at her. Deep breath and step into it, get it over with. He went into the snow, big flakes catching in his hair immediately, waiting for her to do the same.

Antonia walked into that shit as if it was fucking sunshine and rainbows. Although she hadn't seen a lick of sunshine; nor a rainbow in the past few months.

"Have you ever heard of a product Head and Shoulders?" She asked, tiptoeing up to his shoulder to brush back a clump or two.

"Ha-ha," he said, looking across at her, already feeling his nose tingling with the cold. "Because it looks like dandruff, very funny..."

"I've never seen you outside before, is all," She laughed, skidding across a patch of ice with practiced, but a little unsteady, grace. "You're going to be a cotton ball when we get back. Here." She took her beanie and slid it over his head, wary of the curl that looked like some sort of ironic fashion statement.

He had put his hand out to stop her from falling, but she had managed to save herself, and by the time he had realized everything was fine after that little moment of blind panic, he had a hat on. He grumbled and took it off, spinning around to face her. "Don't do that; just keep your hat on..."

"Aw? Do I not wear enough blue and beige for you?" She asked, tugging it back on. What a grumpy boss. She was only trying to be a good assistant, but he forced himself along... She yawned, getting another impact from the two hours of sleep.

"Don't start," he warned her, watching his footing carefully. God, if he fell in front of her. He'd never live it down.

Antonia didn't rush him. Obviously walking in his own designed shoes was very hard for him. She didn't even dare wear his designs other than a handbag or two. It was so pretty, sure, but it was also as inconvenient as fuck. "Did you know there isn't anything good on while you're~" She slid on another patch of ice, regaining her footing. "While you're up all night thinking about how bad that yogurt might be in the fridge?"

He had grabbed her arm at her sliding across the pavement, and pulled it back, embarrassed. "Why didn't you just sleep and throw it out in the morning?" He asked, and wondered where this relationship was going. He wasn't sure he wanted to spend a lot of time with anyone who lost sleep over yogurt.

"Well, y'see, I was more stressed out over work." She said, fixing her gloves as they drew closer to their coffee spot. The road was just icy as the conversations they had, so she assumed she was just innocently lacing her elbow into Lovino's arm. "So slippery!"

She put her arm there. She put it there, not him— it was okay... Lovino wondered when he had gone from being attracted to her to actually being nervous at the thought of touching her. He used to notice her absence because he missed looking at her, because he missed her running errands, but he never used to miss her, as a person. Now he both relished and despised even the tiniest interaction with her, because he was always making an idiot of himself in front of her. He nodded and brought his elbow in closer to his body to try to keep her upright, reaching the coffee place and shouldering the door open, both of them smacked by a hot waft of air.

Antonia let out a sigh of relief, her face flushing a bit with the heat of the bistro and the tightening of Lovino's elbow. She gave it a little squeeze, daring herself to keep it there as long as possible for no reason at all. Smiling, she walked up to the counter, chuckling when she caught eye of Lovino's horrible 'dandruff' problem.

He stared back at her, letting out a quick, 'oh', and a nervous laugh, pulling his arm away and running his hand through his hair quickly to get rid of the flakes. His hair stayed stuck up, wet with the snow, but he didn't notice and put his hands back in his pockets to fish out some money to hand over.

It was as if the employee knew exactly what they wanted because she had it right there, ready for her. Lovino needed to lay off the coffee. Antonia's face tightened and pulled, embarrassed by the familiar display. "Well you see me at least three times a day," giggled Antonia, stopping Lovino with a mere hand on his pocket. She fished out the exact money, looking up to him with a slight shake of her head. "Funny, huh? And you can't just use the coffee machine I got you for your Secret Santa so I didn't have to run each and every morning?"

"I don't make a lot of coffee," He admitted, nodding to the employee and taking his drink. He'd have to pay her back later, he decided, and held out his hand to invite her to take a seat rather than head back to the office.

Odd. He drank more coffee than the average Italian. It was weird. Something she'd have to ask Feli on their weekly phone calls on Wednesdays. "You don't have to pay me back," She pressed, sitting at a seat in the blind spot of the rest of the store. She didn't like people spying on her.

"Of course I do," He insisted, sitting across from her and taking off his coat and scarf, feeling his nose and cheeks as pinched from the cold as Antonia's looked. He looked up at her, feeling he'd forgotten to press something serious. "Did you say work was stressing you?"

Even if Lovino Vargas had looks that could kill a woman walking down the street without him actually opening his mouth, and his slight chivalry that popped out from time to time brought her to her knees, his stubborn nature was a bit too hard to handle, sometimes. "No. Must be imagining things,"

Maybe this was pushing his luck, but he'd pushed his luck pretty much every day since he'd met her, so this didn't seem like to huge a leap. "You don't seem to talk to other people much," he tried to say nonchalantly, behind a sip of coffee.

Antonia shivered a bit, looking up from the warm slip of her coffee. Black with one sugar. She was the best.

"There's a pack of girls that stalk my desk. Does that count?" She joked, not ever meaning to get them fired. It was her battle. She'd fire them herself once the power was available. Lovino was just a stubborn rat right now. She busied herself with a candy cane from a holiday filled with toys and snow, which was a week ago and found she was fiddling with its small wrapper.

Lovino shrugged at how bitter her tone had dropped at the mention of the other women. "So? What do they have to talk about?"

"Everything, the coffee skanks." She left the last part muffled in the soft crinkles of the cane's wrapper. It was like she was talking to her high school principal.

He snorted and tried to hide it. In addition, failed. "And I'm sexist... I just never hear you complain about a man," he added quickly, to save his footing. "You've never done anything, who cares what they say?"

"They talk all about you, too, sir." Antonia added, slipping the hook of the cane in her mouth.

He also failed to stop his head snapping up at that. Act cool. "I don't care," he lied, hunching over and putting his hands around his coffee, now wanting to ask her to explain, but desperately wanting to know.

"Yeah you do, sir." The 'sir' helped the sass, she thought. Better keep using it. "Your composure is just itching for me to tell you what they say on a daily basis behind my window."

"Well, go on, then," he snapped, frowning at her. He sighed and muttered an apology, quieting down to hear what she had to say.

"Mm," She took a sip of her coffee, setting down the cane with a face of disgust. Mint and Coffee don't mix in her book. "Nah… You'll fire them. I know it."

That was cruelty beyond cruelty. "For what? Having an opinion? Just tell me."

"No, because I want to fire them personally. And I can't do that unless you give me permission, right?" She was kind of enjoying this game, but her face wasn't really showing it.

He was getting sick of this. "I can't fire them just for disliking me. And neither can you," he reminded her - that was weirdly malicious of Antonia, he thought.

Shit.

"They said all this stuff about how your brother was better than you- which isn't true- and that you had sex with me on one of the days you pulled me into your office because you liked my 'spunk'." She put a air-quotes around the last word, rolling her green eyes. "I think they meant the day you almost fired me. Huh."

Lovino went quiet, staring at her, more hurt than he expected to be. "But none of that's true," he said, at a loss for anything else. He considered and shrugged hopelessly. "Maybe the bit about Feliciano, but... if I copy him and sponge off of his ideas I'd be as good, but I'd be a fraud. And if I don't, I'm always being compared to him..." His voice raised slightly and grew more irritated as he spoke. "How is that fair? I can't do anything right by them! And on top of that they make up stupid rumors!"

"Keep it down, I know." She hissed, crossing her legs. "They even root through my stuff while I'm on my lunch break or when I go out to get coffee. For condoms or love notes or whatever; but luckily I can lock the drawers. It's so annoying," Antonia rubbed her temples. glaring up to the ceiling.

"Why would you lock the drawers?" He asked, bringing his tone back down, but still anxious and upset and irritable. "Why not just let them go through and see that there's nothing there?"

"Because sometimes they take my pens and all that!" Antonia replied, irritation at the thought of the girls on the rise. "There is nothing there, but isn't that illegal? It's like I'm a cocaine-addict and they want to catch me in the act or something."

"It's a pen!" He replied. "No, I can't fire someone over one of your damn pens without it looking like a favor, and then they'll really have something to go on!"

"Probably looking through your shit right now," She grumbled, looking away from him. What a spine-less cock-licker.

Shit. She had turned away and resorted to muttering. He was such a tool. "Look, I'm sorry," he sighed, embarrassed. "It's not your fault that they do the things that they do, but you just have to learn to live with it. Not everyone's as nice as you are." Oops.

What? She turned her eyes back to him, a little confused in her sleepy composure. "Not everyone's as honest as you, either." Antonia said a bit louder, looking back over to the door. The snow was getting heavier.

"That's probably a good thing," he shrugged, taking another sip.

"Honesty is what draws a woman in." She told him, slapping her flats on the floor.

He snorted, turning to face her more. "No one told that to the women I know, but thank you."

That didn't make sense. She needed sleep. "Uh-huh," Antonia replied, nodding her head. Daily routine.

Oh. No one had told Antonia honesty was a good thing either. Maybe she preferred well-placed lies. "Do you want to take the rest of the day off?" He chanced, looking over at the door. The snow was falling thick, fast, and heavy. "I'll say there was an accident and we got caught up."

She looked back at him, an unbelieving smile on her lips. "Sure, but aren't you the one more concerned about the phone lines today?"

"I'm the boss," He reminded her, and despite himself, he said it somewhat smugly. "Someone else can worry about it."

"... Alright," She agreed after awhile. He must have really liked her if he had noticed she badly wanted out of that ball and chain by her desk.

He gave her a slight smile and pulled out his phone, starting a tale about a car skidding and someone being hurt and stopped to be asked about the accident... yes, yes, what a pain, put Sarah on the desk, she knows what to do... He looked up at Antonia. It was a low blow, but 'Sarah' had always had some certain arrogance about her, a sneer on both her damn faces. He could have picked her out of a line up over who was stirring shit.

Antonia scowled at the name of 'Sarah'. Probably the leader of the pack. Now she'd be out for her job...

"So, now that we have the day off, what do you want to do?" She asked, trying to seem pleasant and enjoyable.

"You haven't been here for long, have you?" He asked, leaning forward on the table. "We could see some sights. Get some dinner," he added quickly, and finished his coffee.

Walking around in that weather with all that ice out there almost came at her like the idea from hell. "I've only been here for a year and even then I've been shoved up in my flat." She answered, slipping her shoes back on and uncrossing her legs. "Depends on where you want to go."

Oh. Oh, this was happening. He panicked, and tried to cover it. "Well, that depends on you... it's not the best-looking city in the world but... there's a museum for everything. What do you like, art? Film? War?" Ew. Who asked a girl if they liked war? No one liked war. "I mean… music?"

She laughed. "I've never been around much. I haven't really had much sleep, so maybe somewhere that's relaxed?" Antonia offered, on the verge of falling asleep right on that table with Lovino to look after her. He was such a nice boss... he'd understand...

"Uh..." Fuck. Nowhere in London was relaxed. Everyone was busy, constantly. Or drunk. "We could just go home. Shit, I meant you could go home; you don't have to come to my home. I'm not saying you can't or anything..."

This was going well.

How cute, he was getting all flustered.

"I'd love to see your home, if you'd let me." She hummed, leaning into the table, her droopy expression resting in her hands. "God, you're so handsome." She whispered as she looked over his face.

Wow. He stared back at her, his eyes widening and the corner of his mouth twitching in a surprised smile. He shook his head and stood up, throwing on his coat and scarf. "We better get you home…" He muttered.

"I thought you said we were going to your house?" She asked, following his lead by straightening her coat and hat, standing up with him.

"I didn't say we weren't," he replied, opening the door and ditching her to catch a cab that was hovering for its next fare beside the road. He waited for her, holding the door open so that she could go in first. The cabbie wasn't best pleased and the cold air being allowed in, but that person knew nothing of being a gentleman, so fuck him.

He must have a lot of money to live on another side of London, she thought, mentally slapping herself when she realized her boss was the third most successful designer in the U.K. Of course, he had a lot of money he was Lovino Fucking Vargas. She slipped in a hurry, apologizing to the cabbie with a hopefully grateful smile.

Lovino slid in after her, letting her settle and leaning forward to give his address. The cabbie raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Good. He sat back in his seat and looked over at Antonia, who looked like she'd fall asleep at any moment.

Antonia yawned, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder, not even caring if it was sexual harassment. Being a pillow wasn't sexual harassment was it? She certainly wasn't leaning her head on the other side of the cab. "Sorry,"

He went to shrug and realized it would bump her head. "It's okay," He had to vocalize; nervous to look round at her for how close he would be to her head.

Antonia slid further down, resting her eyes, imagining what his flat would be like. Perhaps it'd be just like hers with the spiteful proprietor. Probably. He spent too much of his money on his clothes. Antonia practically got them from various jobs she had on the weekends. "Thanks. For everything," She added between barely un-moving lips.

He looked round at that —it was safe, she was further down than before, there was a decent space between them. "For what?"

"Well... thank you for putting up with me," he answered, looking at her hand, wanting to move so his own head was against hers. He didn't, of course.

The cabbie was shuffling around in his seat, grumbling about something but keeping his mouth shut for some reason. Antonia tensed and looked up from the warm, soft folds of Lovino's coat. "No problem," She whispered, relaxing back when it wasn't a problem.

"Don't fall asleep," He told her quietly, moving his arm just a little. "We're almost there."