Chapter 4: Le petit italien
Antonio's POV
Mr. Vargas and I met six years ago, when he acquired the building in which I was living, a nineteenth-century architectural jewel (or so I was told, because I don't understand anything about architecture). I arranged to meet him to convince him of allowing me to rent the apartment where I had been living. He was a hard nut to crack, but in the end I achieved my goal and even more: he showed an interest in the place and decided not only to settle there, but also to renovate all the apartments.
In spite of his intimidating look ―tall, strong, robust, well dressed and serious― the Italian turned out to be a very friendly, talkative and cheerful person, let's say that our character is similar, however he is more party-loving and uninhibited than me… uninhibited is the word? Well, it doesn't matter.
The thing is that Romulo is a guy who endears himself to everybody, so much so that we soon established what could be called a "good friendship": he helped me whenever I needed; he cheered me up in bad times and celebrated the good moments; he gave me good advice… and I gave him some too, he still keep saying that renting the apartments to foreign students is the best idea that he has ever been given! No doubt he knows how to make someone feel important… I can't deny that for me Romulo is more than a friend… is like a father!
For all of that, when I bumped into the most grumpy person ―and also the most adorable, it has to be said― I have ever met in my life, I was surprised a lot to discover he was none other than his grandson.
And how did I meet the little Italian? Purely by chance.
I would have liked to welcome them in the building on their arrival in Spain, as everybody else, but unfortunately (or luckily in these times) I was working. I usually work part-time in the children's clothing section of a store, but sometimes I'm hired as an animator for all kinds of events (I have to take care of the children and entertain them), as it happened that weekend.
Saturday was a full day. In the morning I worked in the store, in the afternoon on the beach, and in the evening in a wedding… What a long day! I remember that I got home in the small hours, pretty tired, and while I was going through the patio I thought I saw somebody in one of the third floor's windows, I guessed that it would be one of Romulo's grandsons, maybe he could not sleep.
I neither could, despite the fatigue.
I lay back on my bed with my guitar, playing always relaxes me. I know it was pretty late, after two in the morning, but no one had complained until then and the song I was playing was very soft and calm, like a lullaby. Although it took me a while, I finally succumbed to exhaustion.
The good thing about Sunday was that I only had to work on the beach, I started late and there were three hours between one shift and another in which I could rest. Or that was what I thought.
The last two kids that were left from the morning shift and I started playing with water balloons while we were waiting for their parents to come to pick them up. We stayed near the fountain to fill the balloons; moreover, there is usually nobody sunbathing there who we could bother and people are rarely seen drinking… the water come out warm.
The children's parents appeared and the kids threw me the last two balloons, one fell on the sand near me and burst, but the second one passed over me and hit and burst against the back of a young boy that, unbelievably, was drinking from the fountain. I ran to him to apologize and I saw him straightening and turning fast.
"BUT WHAT THE FUCK…?" he shouted and collapsed.
I held him in time before he hit the floor. He had fainted. I got scared. I carried him in my arms, he wasn't heavy at all, and ran as fast as I could towards the infirmary. The girl there told me to lie him back on a stretcher and made him a little examination, apparently he had suffered a fainting fit due to the heat… that sounded really bad, I looked at her with concern.
"Relax, he will wake up soon." She calmed me down.
I stayed beside the stretcher watching the boy. He had an angelical face while he was sleeping. I couldn't see his eyes when he fainted, but I bet they would be a beautiful color that would go perfectly with his chestnut hair from which a strange curl stood out. His lips were fine and pink, surely they would also be soft and wet… what a beauty! Although his face was strangely familiar… His body was thin and slender and, only then I realized, he didn't wear beach clothes but long jeans and a shirt, where would he have come from?
He started moving and opened his eyes slowly. What I said, they were beautiful! Olive on the edge and honey inside.
"Oh, he is waking up!" I shouted, excited.
"Try not to overwhelm him." The nurse said. "And don't let him sit up yet! But make him take this slowly when he does." She gave me a brick of apple juice.
The boy turned his face to me with an expression of confusion drawn on it. I was relieved he had woken up at last, thank goodness, what a fright I got.
"What the hell happened?" he asked with a strong Italian accent trying to sit up. I stopped him as I was said. "Can I know what the fuck are you doing, bastard?" what a foul-mouth the boy had! And he only had said two sentences.
I answered calmly, informing him of what had happened to him. He sighted with resignation and settled down on the stretcher. He frowned and puffed his cheeks (what a lovely face!) and he showed annoyed when I told him about the water balloon which had bumped against him. I apologized several times, but he was reluctant to forgive me… Fuck, it wasn't my fault! Maybe I'd achieve it letting him sit up and giving him the brick of juice… those beautiful eyes opened wide as saucers when I put the brick of juice in front of him.
"Ok, ok, ok, I forgive you!" he said excited. I smiled and helped him to sit up a bit, but I took back the brick he eagerly tried to wrench from my hand. "Give me that! Idiot!"
"You have to drink slowly." I said as I inserted the straw and brought it to his mouth slowly. Suddenly he blushed, there is no words to describe how lovely he looked. "Hahaha, you look like a tomato, so cute~!" it seemed that he choked, I had already told him not to drink fast. "I told you to drink slowly."
"It has been your fault, idiot!" why did he blame me?
"I'm not who is drinking..." I would have finished the sentence saying his name, but I didn't know it. "By the way, I still don't know your name. I'm Antonio"
"Buff, you've the same name as the bastard for whose fault this has happened to me."
Oh blast, my name brought him a bad memory, but there are many Antonios in Spain… it can't be helped.
"Really? What did that moron do to you so you end up fainting on the beach?"
"To me directly nothing, but his actions have ended up affecting to me."
"I don't understand."
"I'm not surprised." He frowned.
"Can you explain it to me?" I asked him using the technique of imploring eyes, he couldn't refuse.
He explained that because of that guy he had had an argument at home and had left with nothing on him and without having lunch too. Of course, that explained why he had fainted. Poor boy. I offered to treat him to lunch, his face brightened with emotion.
"Really? Will you treat me? To whatever I want?"
"Sure! But with one condition" He put a strange grimace, of distrust, what did he expect I asked? "You have to tell me your name!" he relaxed his face.
"My name's Lovino." What a beautiful name, although to his cute little face suits something tenderer like… like Lovi! I'd definitely call him that.
"Nice to meet you." We shook our hands. "And tell me, what do you want to eat, Lovi~?"
"Why are you so familiar, bastard? I'm Lovino."
Apparently he didn't like the way I called him, but it's a name that suits him pretty well… I'll keep on calling him like that, I like the guy, I want us to be friends and friends should be treated affectionately, I know in the end he will end up liking it.
I asked him again what he wanted to eat. It turned out to be a pretty demanding boy because he wanted a genuine Italian pizza. Luckily I knew a good Italian restaurant that was near (sometimes I worked there as a waiter) and that was precisely owned by Mr. Vargas.
Lovi worried about whether I would be allowed to enter in the place with beach clothes. He looked at me from head to foot and turned red, very red. I couldn't help laughing at that cute vision. I told him there wouldn't be any problem, since I have never been raised objections.
As soon as the nurse told Lovi he could go, we walk to the restaurant. As he still felt weak and I didn't want him to faint in the way, I held his hand to keep him close. He got annoyed and let go of me with violence.
"Why the hell do you hold me?"
"It seems that you still aren't very well, I wouldn't like you to fall again in the way, so I don't want you to leave my side." I held out my hand, but he still looked angrily at me. "Either that or I carry you in my arms like I did before." I wouldn't mind to have him so close again. I made a movement with my arms to carry him, but he retreated.
"Idiot!" he blushed and threw himself to my stomach. That head butt took my breath away. He felt dizzy and I held him by his shoulders.
"You ok?"
"Yes… now yes…" he answered me. He blushed again and looked away, I didn't understand why, but then I realized he had held my hand. I surprised a lot with the gesture.
"That's the way I like it." I ruffled his hair and he blushed even more.
In the restaurant I decided to sit on the inside, in these summer days people prefers to stay in the terrace, but it's better inside because it's colder, and Lovi had been recommended not to be in the sun, it's not gonna be me the one who put his health at risk!
We were served immediately, it's the best thing of being known in the place. Lovi wanted to order some wine, but I wasn't going to let him drink alcohol after a fainting, who knows how his body would react. He resigned and ate all the bread of the basket that was brought while we were waiting for the pizzas.
I showed interest in his origins, he spoke Spanish pretty well, but he had a strong Italian accent, which made me think he was from there. He confirmed it, he was a Neapolitan who lived in Roma and was descendant of a Spanish woman, reason why he was forced to learn the language since he was a child. I tried to imagine him as a child with tan lovely face trying to memorize sentences in Spanish…
Lovi pulled me out of my thoughts when he asked me about the children who threw the water balloon to him, he thought they were mine or something like that! I talked about my job on the beach, he looked surprised by the work I performed.
"The truth is that it's an exhausting job, but very comforting. And the best of all, it has let me meet you!" I smiled. It was true, the boy was a bit grumpy, but I found him adorable despite everything, he blushed to the roots of his hair with my words!
"Shut up, idiot!" he spat embarrassed.
"The bad thing is that I can hardly stay another hour with you," I felt a bit sad, I barely know nothing about the little Italian and I was thrilled to know him more, but I didn't even know if we'd meet again, "I go back to work at five. Do you think you can come back home without problems? How far do you live?"
Lovi's face suddenly became white. His face showed… worry, I'd say, but I wasn't sure. Maybe food had disagreed with him. He covered his face with his hands.
"What happens? Are you feeling bad again?" he shook his head. Maybe he also felt sad for not meeting me again. "Then? Ah, I know! You feel sad because I have to go with the children and I can't stay with you."
"Don't say bullshit!" he bothered. Maybe he wasn't sad. "It's for other reason…"
"Which? Can't you tell me?" I pouted.
He was lost. He didn't want to admit it, he denied it, but it was that way. He was lost.
Apparently Lovi had just arrived in the country and he didn't know his address, but he lived in the old quarter and he had walked from there, that's more than half an hour walking! I tried to calm him saying that I also lived in the old quarter and maybe I knew his family, although the only Italian I knew was Mr. Vargas. What a surprise discovering that Lovi was Romulo's grandson! That's why his face looked familiar.
"Do you know him?"
"Sure, if I…" could it be possible that the Antonio who Lovi blamed for his misfortune was me? I swallowed hard, I had to find out what I had done so he ended up arguing at home. "… everybody in the city knows who he is, he has done many interesting things here. Was he the one you argued with?"
"Yeah…"
"And what was the reason of the argument? If I can know, of course…"
"German food…" I think he whispered.
"What?"
"He wanted me to eat disgusting German junk which is called food, but for nothing in the world I intend to put in my mouth! Gross!" If my friend Gilbert heard him saying that, he would beat him up… I can't let him get too close to Gilbert if he wants to keep that beautiful little face.
"It's not as bad as all that…"
"It is!" I had gotten he got angry again, all I do with this boy is wrong. "And don't you dare to say otherwise! Over my dead body I put that crap in my mouth. Just thinking about it makes my stomach turn. Well, the fact is that he wanted me to eat 'that', I got angry and made a scene." I think that Gilbert has already listened to him ranting about German food… that scene Lovi was talking about had to have happened during lunch, when all the tenants of the building gather together in Romulo's house to have lunch. Lovi hit his head with his fist. "Now he'll send me back to Italy… and my mother will get mad for having left Feliciano alone… and she will kick me out… and I'll have to live under a bridge… and… and…"
I couldn't help laughing, Lovi was being too dramatic. Knowing his grandfather as I know him, the most he'll get will be a little telling-off, nothing else.
"What the hell are you laughing at, bastard?!"
"How can you be so exaggerated and negative? Don't you think everything would be settled with a simple apology?"
"I'm not going to apologize!" he is very stubborn. "And even less for that."
"Although it implies that you end up under a bridge as you say?"
"Even so, so don't insist more with the same, bore."
I already know the reasons of the arguing, but what did I get to do with all of that? I still didn't understand it.
"And just out of curiosity, what's that Antonio you mentioned before got to do with all of this? Because I don't see how it's connected." I tried not to sound suspicious.
"I woke up late because of him, how can anybody be such an idiot to play a fucking guitar in the middle of the night? Doesn't he know it's annoying?" so it seems that I can't play the guitar again at night. "And on top of that it was supposed that today's lunch should be prepared by him, but that idiot gave the turn to the potato-loving Germans. There you are."
Ok, now all had sense… more or less. I understand he blamed me for the guitar playing, but it's not my fault that he doesn't like German food…
When we left the restaurant it was time for me to return to work, the best thing was to send Lovi back with his grandfather instead of letting him wander aimlessly. I made a sign to a taxi that was approaching and took the opportunity to hold the little Italian in my arms, as if we weren't going to meet again. He didn't resist.
"It's been nice to meet you, Lovi." He didn't even complain when I called him that way. I pushed him in the back seat.
"What? What are you doing, bastard?"
"Sending you home."
"B-But… I still don't know the address."
"Don't worry, he does know." I pointed the driver. "I hope we'll meet again." I smiled and closed the door. I went to the driver's window, told him our building's address and gave him ten euros, that was enough.
I moved away and waved goodbye until the taxi got out of my sight.
I took out my phone from my pocket and called Romulo.
"Ciao, Toño" he sounded worried, "what happens, boy?"
"Hi, Romu. I've heard that a grandson of yours is lost, isn't he?"
"How do you know?"
"He told me himself. Don't worry, I have just sent him home in a taxi. He won't be long in coming."
"You always surprise me, Antonio." He laughed, he sounded more relaxed now he knew that his grandson was coming home. "I don't know how I'm going to thank you."
"Bah, it's nothing, but…" I remembered how worried Lovi looked when he talked about what would happen to him when he met his grandfather and, I don't know if it was because he blamed me, I felt a bit guilty of the situation he was. "…don't scold him so much… he hasn't had a good day precisely…"
"What do you mean?"
"It'd be better if he was the one who tell it to you." If I told him about the faint, he would worry again. "Ah! And… don't tell him anything about me, neither I've called you. "
"I don't understand why, but okay. Grazie, Toño."
"See you."
I wasn't sure how Lovi would react when he discovered I was the Antonio he blamed for his misfortunes, but something said me that he would be glad to meet me again, maybe it was due to the sad face he made when he was leaving in the taxi…
I spent the rest of the afternoon imagining our next meeting and thinking about him, I couldn't stop remembering that cute face. I would have gone to see him when I arrived home, but I thought it was too soon.
Without knowing exactly why, I can say I felt happy. I took my guitar from under the window and laid down on my bed just like the previous night, but instead of playing a lullaby I strummed the strings to obtain a happy melody, according to how I felt. A few blows sounded on my roof.
"Stop with that damn fucking guitar!" a voice said.
It certainly was Lovi, listening to him complaining made me feel even happier and play with more intensity.
The doorbell interrupted me. Was the little Italian so annoyed by my guitar that he had come to complain in person? I opened with a huge smile on my face which faded when I saw my two best friends, Francis and Gilbert. It's not that I didn't want to see them, but it gave me a thrill that it was Lovi.
"What a disappointed face, mon ami, did you expect anybody else?" Francis smiled mischievously.
"No…" I lied without conviction. "It's just that I'm a bit tired."
"No, no, no, no way, Toño, tonight there's no fatigue." Gilbert told while entering my home. "You're going out to drink with your two awesome friends. Do you have anything better to do? And don't say sleep, because I won't let you waste a Sunday night doing something so little fabulous as that."
"But I have to work tomorrow…"
"Us too, cher, but we haven't seen you for days, you can't blame us for wanting to have a good time with you, can you?"
They were right, I had been so busy working all the week that we had barely seen each other. I changed my clothes, under Francis' watchful eye, and we left.
"Well, mon amour," Francis said, spinning the wine of his glass, "are you going to tell us who you were waiting for when he arrived?"
"I was waiting for nobody."
"For the song you were playing and the smile on your face when you opened the door, anyone could say otherwise." Francis has always been very perceptive. "By the way, you should stop playing guitar in the small hours, it seems that le petit italien is annoyed by it."
"Who?"
"One of Romulo's grandsons, Toño, do you remember they arrived from Italy yesterday?"
"Poor Toni," he put an arm over me, patting me on the back, "with that of working so much he is not up to date with what has happened in the building. But don't worry, mon ami, big brother Francis and your incredible friend Gilbert will inform you of the last events."
I was going to tell them that I was up to date with what happened more or less, but they didn't even let me speak.
"So the older little Italian is no more than a damn idiot and grumpy brat who has been able to despise the magnificent lunch that my awesome person had prepared with such care." He was certainly talking about Lovi, I smiled remembering him, but I was getting annoyed by Gilbert insults to him. "Spoiled brat…"
"If you had seen how he got, what a temper…" Francis rolled his eyes.
"For once I agree with the cabbage, what that kid needs is a good punch to kick all the nonsense out of him."
"And then his brother asked us to excuse him, because it turns out that the boy tends to be explosive…"
"That Feli is a good boy…" he took a long gulp from his mug of beer. "Ahh… kind, nice, funny…"
"And so cute, mon amour!"
"They are completely opposite. That grumpy brat could learn from him…"
I was getting very irritated by all those criticisms to Lovi. Everyone has his own character, that people like or don't like it is not really important.
"But that little grumpy boy is so cute too… You'd have to see him, Toni. And what a butt he has…" I think I blushed at the thought of Lovi's ass. "Mmm, so tight…"
"Don't be perverted, Francis." Gilbert spat.
"It's a pity he loses everything with that horrible character he has…" he took a sip of his wine and finished it, putting the glass on the table with a sharp bang. "It would be funny being able to tame that shrew…" he continued with a lascivious tone and a smirk. I couldn't stand it anymore.
"Fuck, guys, stop now!" I spat, standing up. The two of them got alarmed.
"Toni, mon ami, why do you say that?"
"Because I don't like how you are talking about Lovi" I said, "he could be a bit grumpy and bad-mouthed, but he's an adorable boy and I'm not going to let you keep on ranting on about him."
"Lovi?"
"Adorable… boy?"
Gil and Francis shared a confused look and then put all their attention on me.
"Are you talking about le petit italien, mon ami?"
"Do you know him perhaps?"
"Don't tell me it was him who you were waiting for when we got your home?"
"Eeeh…"
"Tell us everything, mon ami!"
Francis and Gil took me by my shoulders forcing me to sit again and tell them everything that happened with Lovi.
"So le petit italien has stolen your heart." Francis concluded with excitement.
"Lovi hasn't stolen me anything, we have just met."
"Kesese…" Gilbert laughed. "As your most awesome friend I think that that looks like love at first sight… or at first faint, as you prefer to call it."
"The same as yours with Eli, mon ami? Although that was actually love at first frying pan hit."
"I'm not in love with that tomboy!"
"Sure you are, Gil, accept it for good. If every time she appears, your ego increases a lot…"
"That's because I'm wonderful and get full of myself in front of everybody."
"Yes, whatever you say," he added sarcastically, "but if you don't hurry and do something, the sexy black-haired man with purple eyes will end up seducing her again."
"That stupid aristocrat has nothing to do against my awesome person!" he hit the table with his fist.
"Well, he admitted it at last." Francis said with pride while Gilbert looked at him confused. "Now it's your turn, Toni."
"I have nothing to admit. That what you say about Lovi has stolen my heart is just a figment of your imagination."
"Toni, your eyes and the smile you had while you were talking about le petit italien leave no room for doubt."
"Don't talk nonsense, I just want to be friends with him. Moreover, I like women."
"L'amour knows no gender, darling." Francis caressed my face tenderly. "But if you really don't feel anything for the little Italian, as you say, you won't mind if I try something with him, right?"
The image of Francis with Lovi crossed my mind and I felt a kind of pinch in the pit of my stomach. My mind clouded.
"Don't even think about trying something with Lovi." I said with a serious voice, not usual in me.
"Well, another one who admits it. Calm down, amour. At least your subconscious isn't as slow as you are."
That last he had told me… was good or bad? With Francis I'm never sure about if he is complimenting me or not… but he's my friend, whatever he says he'll say it for my own good, for sure.
I said goodbye to the guys when we reached the first floor of our building. Francis insisted several times that I should go to his apartment to take the last drink, but out of experience I know that 'take the last drink' with Francis and Gil means to drink an entire bottle of liquor per person.
I entered home repressing the urge to go up one more floor and pay a visit to Lovi to know how he was… although one o'clock in the morning is not a good moment to pay visits.
But half past nine in the morning is!
Dressed in my work uniform, the clothing store's one, I went up to Romulo's house. He received me with a good handshake followed by a strong hug. Obviously he asked me about the reasons of a visit so early in the morning, this man knows me pretty well and knows that I like to stretch out my time off until the very last minute.
"Feliciano, go call your brother." He told to his younger grandson, a boy that looked exactly like Lovi but with lighter hair and his particular curl on the other side of the head.
"F-For what, nonno?" the boy said with… fear? Why would he be afraid? "He is probably sleeping…"
"Wake him up." Feliciano's face showed fear. "Tell him that I asked it to you, that the neighbor of the next floor down is here and he is asking about him."
"B-B-But…" Feliciano didn't move, he just watched me, confused.
"Run!"
"Ve!" with that scared scream, he ran down the hall.
Mr. Vargas told me that Lovino wasn't precisely in a good mood when he waked up, what made me wonder if it had been a good idea to pay a visit so early… but I was eager to meet him and see what kind of face he'd make when he saw me! He wasn't long in coming, Romulo and I were chatting about my busy weekend when he suddenly stopped talking.
"Here he is." He pointed behind me.
I turned around to meet with his sleepy face and those beautiful eyes that opened in surprise. I smiled.
