T.T

I... I... I feel terrible T.T I've been on vacation since Wednesday, but the only computer I had access to broke down on the first day so I couldn't finish writing this chapter until today T.T I feel soooo bad, so I tried to make this one a big longer like I like to but never do, so here ya go... Please don't be mad T.T *dodges rotten tomatoes* Whelp, I'm just gonna go curl up in my bed and pass out.

Disclaimer: Day ?- Does it even matter any more? It's just... Who were we kidding? Owning Hetalia and its characters? Impossible. It can't be done. I think... I think we'll abandon this fool's mission soon...


"I swear on the Queen's life, Alfred, if you get into one more fight with him I will call your father! I'm sure Uncle Al would love to hear what his 'perfect' son is doing in school!" Arthur threatened, standing in front of the seething American. Alfred simply rolled up his sleeves as he calmly spoke.

"Don't worry, Artie. I'm not going to get into a fight."

"Oh, well good! For a moment there, I thought you were-"

"I'm just going to pound that fucking Soviet's face in a bit, that's all. I wouldn't call that a fight, would you?" Alfred breezed past Arthur, face growing redder with each step. The Brit scrambled to catch up.

"For God's sake, what did Ivan do this time that warrants your behavior?" Getting no reply, Arthur planted himself firmly in front of Alfred, forcing the American to stop. "Yes, that Russian kid's a creep, but you fight him for no reason! Last time you tried to fight him, it was over, what? A few, stupid words?"

"He insulted football that time, Arthur! Football!"

"So you threw a locker at him?!"

"It was the only obvious solution! This time, it's a Hell of a lot worse though," Alfred's rage began to rise again as he shoved past Arthur.

"Nothing is worth getting into a fight with- You know what? Whatever. Do what you want, see if I care. Get yourself expelled. That just means that Lovino can move back into the dorm. Go right ahead. Have fun fighting like an animal," Arthur threw his arms in the air, exasperated. Alfred flashed him a smile and continued his war path.

"Thanks for the support, Artie! See ya later!"

Arthur rubbed his temples, trying to soothe his forming headache.

"Are you okay, Arthur? You look pale." A charming voice behind the Brit questioned.

"It's that bloody American. He gets into trouble every five seconds and somehow drags me down with him! I'm getting sick of it and- Wait, what the Hell?! Why are you talking to me, frog?!" Arthur took a step away, finally realizing who had been talking to him. Francis smiled and stepped closer.

"Am I not allowed to comment on your physical appearance?"

"No!"

"Too bad. You're skin complexion right now is really bringing out your green eyes, mon amour. It almost makes one forget about those eyebrows of yours. Almost."

"Damn straight! My eyebrows are unforgettable! Now, unless you have some crucial piece of information in that tiny brain of yours for me, I shall bid you ado," Arthur began to turn away. Francis shot his arm out and caught the Brit's elbow.

"Let go."

"But, Arthur-"

"Let. Go."

Francis sighed and let go of Arthur, shaking his head.

"Why must you make everything so difficult? Can't you just open up to me?" Francis winked, one of his trademark smiles spreading itself across his face.

"Why must you make everything so perverted? Can't you just talk without trying to shove your dick up my ass?"

"Touché, mon amour, touché."

Arthur folded his arms across his chest and tapped his foot impatiently on the floor.

"Is that all you wanted to say? I do have better things to do than stand around here all day and chat, you know."

"Some friends and I were going to go see a movie tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with us. You can bring condom boy if you want," Francis asked. Arthur tilted his head in confusion.

"Who is-?"

"Ah, pardon. Lovino can come if he wants, Matthew too, as can that silly American- that is, if he's not dead or expelled," Francis explained, shaking his head as he chuckled quietly at Alfred. Looking back at Arthur, he asked again. "So? Are you coming?"

Arthur coughed and attempted to hide the blush on his face.

"I mean, if I do go, it is not because you invited me. You see, coincidently, I was already planning on going with my friends, so if I do see your friends and you there, it will be completely accidental, understand?" Arthur stammered out.

"Oui, of course, mon amour!"

"Don't call me that!"

"Whatever you want, mon petit chouchou," Francis cooed, patting Arthur on the head and swiftly kissing his cheek. Before the Brit could react, the French teen was already walking away, smiling smugly to himself. "I'll see you there at seven!"

"Bloody frog!" Arthur shouted after him. Taking a deep breath to control the mad blush spreading across his face, the Brit began his search for Lovino.

"I'm sure I'll find Alfred in the dean's office later, so all I really need to do is find Lovino... Now, where could that swearing Italian be?"


Sunlight streamed through the open window, illuminating the two sleeping teens sitting beneath it. Their chests rose and fell in sync, even breaths falling from both of their lips. The light brown haired teen with an odd curl on the side of his head began to stir first. His dark brown eyes slowly opened, taking in his surroundings.

Why am I in the middle of the fucking hallway? And why am I so warm- Oh shit.

Lovino's eyes widened when he caught sight of a certain Spaniard sleeping against him. His thoughts from right before he had fallen asleep rushed back into his mind, Lovino began to panic.

Wait, no, no, no, I did NOT think that I actually like this damn bastard... Did I? No, I must be remembering wrong. Yeah, that's it! I was sleepy, that's all! I can confidently say that I am not hopelessly in love with Antonio! Wait, love? Who the fuck said anything about love? Well, whoever the Hell brought it up better shut their damn mouths, because there is no love here, no sir-ee!

Assured of his feelings, or rather his lack of thereof, towards Antonio, Lovino quietly slipped out from underneath the Spaniard, making sure the chocolate haired teen's head didn't fall roughly to the ground. Not because he didn't want to hurt him or anything, no... Lovino just didn't want to have to walk the stupid tomato bastard to the nurse, that's all.

The Italian stood up and stretched, looking out the open window towards the brightly lit fields sprawled out beneath him. He sighed and turned, ready to start his arduous task of finding his dorm. It took more willpower than he would like to admit, but Lovino didn't turn around, not even once, as he walked away from the sleeping teen. He also chose to ignore the churning in his stomach, as well as forcing himself to forget about the thought of Antonio and Bella having lunch the next day.

I don't give a crap about that bastard, so why should I fucking care what he does with that bitch?

Only fifteen minutes later, Lovino found himself in front of his own dorm room. Not dwelling on the fact that he was sure that he had walked up two flights of stairs, Lovino stepped into the room two floors below where he had started and shut the door behind him. After a quick look around the room, he confirmed that he was alone. Lovino walked over to the small kitchen and pulled out a pitcher of water. Reaching over for one of the cabinet handles, he took out a glass and began to pour himself a drink.

"Hmph, stupid bastard... making me fall asleep in the middle of the damn hallway..." Lovino muttered to himself, taking a sip of the cold water.

"You fell asleep in the hallway?"

Lovino spat his water out and nearly dropped the glass. Wiping his mouth and looking around, Lovino didn't see anyone. He held his cup in a slightly shaking hand.

"H-hello?" Realizing that he sounded scared- which I'm totally not- Lovino quickly cleared his throat and spoke again. "Who the fuck just said that? Also, how the fuck do you know what I did?"

"Well... you just said that you did so... I kind of figured..." The voice spoke again. Lovino looked around, still seeing no one. He heard a soft sigh. "It's me, Matthew... Remember? I live here? We met yesterday?"

Without warning, Lovino suddenly spotted a violet eyed Canadian wearing a red hoodie with a white maple leaf emblazoned on it and jeans standing right in front of him.

"Ah!" Lovino shouted, dropping his cup. Glass shattered at the two teen's feet, the sound of the impact ringing in both of their ears for a couple of seconds. "Where the fuck did you come from?!"

"I've been here the whole time... I said hi to you when you walked in..." Matthew mumbled, staring down at the broken glass and water by his feet.

"Bullshit! I would've seen you or at least heard you or something!" Lovino argued, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes at the Canadian before him. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

"I-I've been here the whole time..." Whispering now, Matthew tested his range of movement by shuffling his feet. He winced and looked back up at Lovino. "Um, I don't want to cause any trouble, but... I would really appreciate it if you could sweep up some of the glass... It's just... I'm barefoot..."

"Yeah, whatever," Lovino waved a hand at Matthew and grabbed a towel off the counter. "Don't move, I don't want blood all over the fucking place."

The blond haired teen nodded his head and stood perfectly still. It wasn't until he was halfway through cleaning up the mess that Lovino realized that Matthew had been talking to him.

"-and it's just so hard, you know? No one ever pays attention to me... I mean, it just gets really overwhelming sometimes... I think the worst thing though is being friends with Alfred... I mean, yeah, we're good friends, and I'd do anything for him, but I've known him since elementary school and he always overshadows me, no matter what I do... Anyway, it looks like you're done... I'm really sorry for talking so much; it's just that no one ever really listens for this long..." Matthew smiled at Lovino as the Italian stood up. Lovino shrugged his shoulders and threw the dirty and glass filled towel into the empty sink.

"Uh, yeah... Sure..." Lovino shrugged his shoulders, pulling out another glass for more water. "Hey, where the Hell is Arthur?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen him since the clubs sign up... Hey, Lovino?"

"Yeah?" Lovino took a sip from his glass.

"Do you like Antonio?" Matthew cautiously asked.

Lovino nearly gagged on his water, swallowing it quickly to avoid choking.

"W-what the fuck makes you think that?!"

"I-I thought it was obvious...you two were holding hands earlier at tryouts, and I-I thought he said s-something earlier about con-"

"No! I feel nothing for that bastard but annoyance and hatred!" Lovino huffed, taking a slow sip of his water, not wanting to take any more chances. After swallowing, he looked at Matthew, trying to seem nonchalant. "Are you really that sure?" Matthew's eyes grew large.

"No, not at all! I'm probably just imagining things... I think Francis has rubbed off on me too much," Matthew rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "He always talks about that kind of stuff... I mean, I try to block him out, but he just never stops..."

"I never would have thought that you of all people would talk to that French pervert," Lovino chuckled, putting the water pitcher back into the refrigerator.

"Yeah, well, actually, most people don't realize that we're cousins..." Matthew chuckled so quietly, Lovino almost thought he had imagined it. Raising his eyebrows, Lovino looked at the Canadian.

"No shit? Eh, I guess I can kinda see it in the hair," the Italian squinted. "Huh, well you learn something new every day. Listen, I-"

"That bloody frog thinks he can do whatever the Hell he wants..." Arthur came flying into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Spotting Lovino, he regained his composure.

"Ah, there you are Lovino."

"Yeah... What the fuck was that all about?" Lovino questioned, setting his glass down on the counter. Arthur's face visibly reddened as he thought about Francis's sudden invitation and even more sudden kiss.

"What, a guy can't walk into his own dorm and slam the door without being questioned like a criminal? You don't even bloody sleep here!" Arthur counter argued, trying to change the topic.

"Hey, I'm the one who is actually assigned to this room! It's Matthew that- Wait, where the fuck did he go?" Perplexed, Lovino spun around, trying to locate the now missing Canadian.

"Never mind him, he'll pop up eventually," Arthur waved his hand, stepping into the kitchen. Spotting the towel and glass in the sink, the Brit turned to Lovino. "What happened?!"

"I dropped a glass," the Italian shrugged. "It's no big deal."

Arthur sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Were you looking for me?" Lovino asked, taking another sip of water. Arthur nodded and pulled a near empty plate of scones out of the fridge.

"Yes, actually. I was wondering if you would like to go to the movies tonight. We would most likely eat dinner afterwards in town," explained Arthur as he took a bite out of one of the lumps of gray mass. Lovino couldn't help but crinkle his nose up at the more than revolting sight.

"Sure, I've got nothing planned, and I'm sure it's better than sticking around this Hell hole any longer. Who else is going?" The Italian calmly moved into the living room in order to put more distance from himself and the abomination that was Arthur's 'cooking'.

"Well I was going to invite Matthew, but I have no bloody idea where the guy is," Arthur shook his head.

"I'm right here..." A soft voice whispered.

"Did you hear that?" Lovino whipped his head around, looking for the unknown source.

"It was probably just the wind or something. We get a lot of drafts in this room, we're always hearing strange sounds like that," Arthur stated, finishing up the plate. "If Alfred doesn't either die or get expelled for what he's about to do, then he'll most likely come. Oh, this reminds me. Any reason that Francis would call you condom boy?"

Lovino's face went from normal to flaming red in half a second flat.

"NO! Why would there be? I bet that pervert calls everybody that!" Lovino stammered out. He scrambled for a change of topic. "Any reason that you were talking to that dickface?"

Now it was Arthur's turn to blush. Again.

"NO! He just happened to be speaking and I just happened to respond and he just happened to be going to the movies tonight and I just happened to already have planned to go and just happened to forget everyone I was going to invite about it. See? Perfectly understandable," Arthur blurted out rather quickly. It took a few moments for Lovino to fully understand what the bushy eye browed Brit had said.

"Wait, Francis is going?"

Shitshitshit, that probably means Antonio will go... Wait, why the fuck would I care? I don't care! Hmph!... Maybe Francis isn't even going. I mean, Arthur was speaking pretty fucking fast, I'm sure I heard him wrong or-

"Unfortunately, yes. That ruddy frog will be there, and most likely the rest of the 'Bad Touch Trio' as well," Arthur rolled his eyes and put the clear dish in the sink next to the dirty towel.

Fuck. Play it cool, Lovino. You got this.

The Italian shrugged his shoulders. "Oh well, I guess it can't be avoided then. We'll just have to ignore those fucking perverts as much as possible. What time are we going?"

"We'll make sure to be there around seven, so be ready a bit before that. I am always on time. It's not like a gentleman to be late."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, gentleman stuff and all that. How the fuck are we going to get into town? I am not going to walk like some fucking caveman."

"Hmmm, normally I would ask Yao for a ride since he owes me a couple of favors from last year, but Alfred owes an embarrassingly large amount of money to the guy and I'd rather not hear him go on and on about it... We'll just call a growler I suppose."

"A what?"

"A growler."

"The fuck is a growler?"

Arthur looked at Lovino, exasperated. "Oh come on, you don't know what a growler is? Those yellow cars that you ring up and they take you places?"

"You mean a taxi?"

"That's what I bloody said!"

"Well then speak English!"

"I was speaking English, you bloody hobknocker!"

"That wasn't- Wait, what? What the fuck is a hobwhateverthefuckyousaid?"

Arthur threw his hands in the air. "Okay, let's end this discussion here, because next you'll be asking me what a numpty is and I am not going to stand here and educate you on how to speak the English language."

"A what-?"

Lovino was interrupted by the door being flung open and a very red faced Alfred storming in.

"Where the bloody Hell have you been? Did you get into a fight?" Arthur nagged, glaring at the American.

"No, I 'did not get into a fight'," Alfred mimicked the Brit's voice, and Arthur stood up a bit straighter, eyes narrowed.

"I do not sound like that," Arthur huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well if you didn't fight with the guy, then what did you do?"

Alfred's face burned brighter as he cleared his throat. "We, ah, ahem... We just talked that's all... On a totally unrelated note, I'm gonna go to the movies tonight around seven..."

"What a coincidence! We're all going as well," Arthur smiled smugly, figuring he knew what had happened. Alfred's eyes widened.

"No, you can't! Ivan and I-" Cutting himself off quickly, Alfred coughed into his hand. "I mean, wow, really? Awesome! I'm, ah... I'm gonna catch a ride with Iv- a frien- an acquaintance," The American finished weakly.

"Uhuh then... Well, we're going to take a growler-"

"Taxi."

"-growler," Arthur narrowed his eyes at Lovino, "over to the movies, so we'll meet up with you there. Afterwards we'll most likely end up eating in town, will you two acquaintances be joining us?"

Alfred blushed brighter and brushed past the Brit, moving towards his room. "My acquaintance will not be joining us, but I could certainly go for some burgers or something. I'm gonna go listen to some music, I'll talk to you later." Lovino could hear the American slam the door behind him, followed shortly by the muffled sound of loud music.

"What the fuck is up with him?" A confused Italian asked.

"Alfred and Ivan's relationship is, well, complicated. They beat each other up one minute, and then end up snogging beneath the bleachers the next. Most people have chosen to ignore them by now," Arthur stated simply, beginning to quietly shut the front door that the frazzled American had left open in his path.

"Fucking weirdoes... Listen, I need to go grab my wallet from next door, I'll be back soon," Lovino caught the closing door with his head and slipped out. Taking a few steps towards his shared dorm with Antonio, the Italian stopped short.

Fuck, that's right... I don't have my key! Shit, why the Hell didn't I grab it before?

Lovino remembered the sight that had met his eyes the last time he had walked into the room.

... Ah, that's right... Well, I guess there's nothing I can-

Lovino squinted his eyes at the door and let out a groan.

"Are you fucking kidding me...?" The Italian muttered to himself as he turned the keys, once again left in the door knob, and let himself into the room. Spotting the plastic decorations still coating the room, Lovino sighed and shut the door behind him.

"Who the fuck could have put all these in here?" Lovino wondered out loud, grabbing an armful of the plastic packets and remembering his bag that had been filled with similar pouches. "Last time this happened it was dad, but I don't see how he could have gotten into the school to do this..." Sighing again, Lovino shook his head and walked over to the trashcan. He didn't notice the unopened letter at the bottom of the bin as he dropped the condoms, completely covering the unread piece of paper.

The Italian cleaned up about half of the condoms before growing bored and deciding to just shove the rest of them underneath the coffee table until he would deal with them later. Walking into his room, he sidestepped around the packets still left over from the night before and went through his bag. Lovino pulled his wallet out of the overstuffed bag, double checking to make sure he had some cash and his I.D. in there before zipping his belongings back up and leaving the room.


Hair whipping behind him from the fast winds, Toris held onto Feliks like his life depended on it. Coincidentally, since Feliks was currently driving the small, but alarmingly fast, motor scooter towards the theater, the Polish teen really did have some control over the trembling Lithuanian teen's safety as he swerved in and out of traffic.

"Ok, so you understand the plan so far, right, Tori?" Feliks yelled back over his shoulder, quickly switching lanes to cut in front of a taxi cab that was going far too slow for his tastes. Besides, it was just the ugliest shade of yellow that he had seen in ages.

"Yes, now will you please slow down?!" Toris yelled back, closing his eyes and shoving his face into his friend's shirt. He'd rather meet a sudden and unexpected death than having to agonizingly watch the semi-truck that was undoubtedly going to plow into them anytime soon.

"What, and be late for your date? You heard the fashion dead girl! Be there at seven sharp!" Feliks began to pay less and less attention to the road the longer he talked. "Besides, it's like I always say-"

"TRUCK!" Toris shouted, luckily picking that moment to peek over Feliks's shoulder. He heard the screech of tires as the Polish teen swerved the small scooter to the right, vehicle tilting dangerously for a few moments before righting itself. Toris let out a sigh of relief that they were at least safe for the moment.

"What was that, Feliks?! You almost got us killed!"

"And you interrupted my sentence. Rude. Now who's mad at whom, hm?"

The Lithuanian would have thrown his arms up in the air in frustration if that didn't mean that he would let go of the only thing keeping him on the scooter.

"Just get us to the movies in one piece, alright?" Toris spoke nervously, eyeing the cars surrounding them.

"Of course! After all, I am wearing my best shoes today." Feliks spoke confidently. After a few moments, however, his face began to look contemplative. "Of course, if I died now, they'd have to bury me in these..."

Toris held on tighter, closing his eyes again.


"Are you fucking kidding me? Beep your fucking horn or something, dipshit! Those assholes just cut us off!" Lovino shouted from the back of the taxi, pointing to a small scooter holding two people that suddenly moved into their lane. Arthur coaxed his arm and smiled apologetically at the driver.

"I'm terribly sorry sir, my friend here is just anxious to get to the movies, that's all," he explained. The cab driver merely grunted in response and went back to driving the slightly run down car.

"Tsk, well it's certainly not my fault if we're running late, isn't that right, Arthur?" Lovino spat sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest. Arthur puffed out his chest and looked offended.

"Well it's not my fault if the bloody cab service couldn't figure out what a growler was, and there was no way that I was letting them off the phone until they understood!"

"Yeah, and that's how we ended up with this lovely ride and this kind gentleman as our driver," Lovino rolled his eyes for the fourth time during the trip as the cabbie grunted again in the front seat, shooting Lovino death glares in the rearview mirror. The Italian threw them right back without batting an eye.

"Well at least we're almost there, right? It was such a short drive..." Matthew offered, sitting pressed up against the window in the crowded car.

"Damn, I'm hearing that wind noise again. There must be a crack or something in one of these piece of shit windows," Lovino reasoned upon hearing Matthew's resigned sigh at the ignorance towards his words.

"Look, can we just drop the subject and get to the theatre in peace?" Arthur stated, trying to keep the car calm. Lovino humphed before going back to throwing daggers with his eyes at the driver, who juggled throwing them back and actually driving the car.

"Alright, do you feel any bloody better now?" Arthur tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, eyeing Lovino menacingly.

"Much better, actually," the Italian smiled smugly to himself, knowing he had won the shouting match he had just ended with the cab driver.

"Well, now that that's settled, I'd like to actually go inside the theatre, if that's fine and dandy with you," Arthur said sarcastically, already making his way towards the theater's front doors. Lovino walked behind the Brit, still happy over his cursing match victory.

Both teens didn't notice Matthew pounding on the cab window to let him out as the taxi drove away. They had just sort of forgotten that the Canadian had been riding with them. Matthew sighed and tried to get the attention of the driver, but the man didn't hear a single word the teen said. Sighing, Matthew figured his best shot would be to jump out at the next red light and hope for the best.

Meanwhile, Arthur and Lovino had just picked up sodas and popcorn at the concession stand.

"All I'm saying is that it wouldn't have taken us so long to get our sodas if you hadn't called them 'fizzy drinks'," Lovino commented, bringing the straw to his extra-large Sprite to his lips.

"Those employees had no right to laugh at me! Hmph!" Arthur huffed, clutching his own drink in his hand, small popcorn in the other. He eyes Lovino's arms. "Are you sure you'll be able to eat all of that?"

"Of course I can fucking eat all of this! I'm not some fucking sissy!" Lovino scoffed, clutching his extra-large bag of popcorn closer.

"I never said you were. Besides, I-" Arthur stopped short when his eyes were suddenly covered by two hands.

"Guess who, mon amour," Francis purred into the Brit's ear, causing the teen's face to light up rather quickly. Arthur pushed himself away from Francis and glared at the teen.

"Who the bloody Hell said you could- Hey!"

Gilbert had suddenly appeared next to the Brit and grabbed the ticket stub out of his hand.

"Ugh, you guys were going to see this movie? Lame. Come with us, we're going to see 2 Guns," the albino stated, already turning to walk to the action movie's seating room. Lovino tried to look as calm as he could, avoiding looking over to his left where he knew Antonio must be standing.

"And why should we listen to you?" Arthur spat back.

"The movie's got explosions and guns, dude. What more could you want?" Gilbert questioned.

"I don't know, maybe an actual plot?"

"Oh come on, the action will make up for it. It's gonna be awesome," Gilbert whined, and began to poke Francis in his arm. "Francis, make your little boyfriend get in the room already."

"Excuse me?"

Oh shit, that white haired bastard's done it now.

"What did you just call me, you ruddy ninny?"

"Ha, I don't have to answer someone whose language is half made up words," Gilbert stuck his tongue out at Arthur, but subtly moved behind Francis, not liking how dark the green eyed teen's voice was getting.

"Well you can just go make like a flock!"

"What?"

"Get the flock out of here!"

All five teens stood in silence. After a few moments, Gilbert was the first to open his mouth.

"That may have been- no, that was - the lamest pun I have ever heard. Congratulations," the red eyed teen slowly clapped. Lovino could sense Arthur's temper, and he knew he was about to blow and start actually cursing and fighting in a very public place.

"You don't have to listen to this fucking idiot, Arthur. Come on, let's just go see our movie, we'll meet up with Alfred there," Lovino spoke, turning on his heel and walking away briskly. He heard the Brit huff once more before watching the teen speed past him and breeze down the hall.

"Wait, Lovino-" a voice behind him called out.

"What do you want?" Lovino spat, spinning around to face Antonio. He inwardly grinned at how the Spaniard's face winced a little at the acid in Lovino's words.

"I was just going to say thanks for sleeping with me earlier, it was nice knowing there was someone I knew there with me," Antonio quickly regained his composure and smiled at the Italian. Lovino repressed the warm feeling that was forming in his chest and scoffed.

"Yeah, well, I don't want that to ever fucking happen again, understand? Now, I've got a movie to watch, and don't you dare think of following me," Lovino narrowed his eyes and began to take a step back, not taking his sight off of Antonio. The Spaniard looked concerned.

"Lovi, I don't think you should-"

"I don't have to listen to anything that you have to fucking say! I can do whatever the Hell I want!"

With that, Lovino swiftly turned around, head held high, and promptly missed the three carpeted steps directly below him and went tumbling down. Soda and popcorn went flying, coating everyone and everything in the vicinity. Lovino lay on the ground, covered in sticky Sprite and popcorn, clutching at his now throbbing stomach.

FUCK.


Sighhh, well here we go... I'm not proud of this chapter, I'm not sure why... My two proofreaders don't even know I'm posting, and I'm sure I'll wake up in the morning to angry emails, but I just really wanted to get this chapter posted so no one thinks I'm dead...

Thank you sooo frickin much for reading, it's just flipping awesome that there are people still reading this story! It means so much! Remember to review if ya can, and I hope you enjoyed!

Ciao while I go sleep for fourteen hours straight~