Her hair was long, dead ends being meticulously studied between slender fingers. She groaned, letting her locks fall once more. "Those fuckers," she mumbled to herself, her eyes lifting just-enough to see the stacks of boxes poorly organized before her. The check-in list in her other hand would be hell to get through tonight. Her boss had warned her that there was a new driver coming, but she hadn't expected such idiots.

Grabbing a pen, looking for a will to not just walk out (and scarcely finding it, at that), she began.

The light ding above the door chimed to life. She didn't turn to see who it was. If they wanted her attention they would clear their throat or ask a question; if they didn't do either of those things they obviously didn't care enough for a distraction to be worth it.

"Natalie," a sweet voice sounded behind her. She stopped dead in her tracks, the blue ball-tip pen hesitating across the page. Turning slowly, she saw a sweet woman with chin-length hair and warm eyes. Her smile didn't say anything but "I love you," as it always did.

"I—I—" Natalie stammered, quick steps taking her around the counter, fumbling over estranged boxes, before wrapping the well-built woman into a desperate hug. "I thought you were dead!"

She was in danger, but she didn't know it. She was too happy embracing the costume of her dead sister.

Lovino started awake, that same feeling of emptiness filling his chest, draining his body. He was expected to have nightmares, sure, but nightmares that felt so real? He pushed the feeling aside, the truck grumbling beneath him lullingly, some annoying pop-turned-broadway song flittering through the speakers, Feliciano aggressively mumble-singing along from the wheel.

Turning his pillow over and cursing the book that jabbed him in the palm, Lovino stuffed his face into the pillow and willed himself back to sleep.

The whole world broke into chaos.

"Fuck a duck. Fuck a duck. Fuck a row of fucking fucker ducks!" Lovino prayed under his breath. His hands clung to the wheel for dear life, the whole world in front of him a white, foggy sheet of hail and pounding rain. They had been passing through pockets of hail and rain ever since they left New Mexico, but it hadn't gotten this bad until now. The road was invisible beyond the trembling panes of class, and Lovino's whole body was chilled.

"What are you doing?" Feliciano demanded as he turned on his turn signal.

"I'm pulling off the fucking road," his voice was too panicked, but, in this situation, any sane person'S would.

Of course, Feliciano was calm. That shit. "No! We only get four hours off the road a day, we are not spending it on the side of the highway in the cab!"

Lovino had quickly learned, in their two and a half days of driving, that Feliciano was not keen on the trucking part of being a truck driver. After the first day, he had grown anxious. His puzzle games no longer satisfied him, he would sing too loud, stick his head out the window, saying it was "to feel less dead," and when it came time for him to just relax, take a nap, watch a movie or read one of the books in a messy stack-he seemed to think that gas-station action novels were going to be the next currency, because he never gave up an opportunity to purchase one—he would complain about being too bored to concentrate. The times when he was happy were the moments when they stopped. He would talk to everyone in a thirty mile radius if Lovino would let him off to run as far. Lovino would have to treat him like a kid with ADHD, reminding him that he had to shower, berate him for spending too much time in the parking lots talking to bikers and truckers and woman with purse-size dogs.

Lovino ignored him as he slowly took his foot off the gas, easing sideways, slow, easy, the roads wet and the truck being bigger than anything Lovino had handled before. His prayer was low on his breath. Poor birds.

They made it. Lovino parked.

Feliciano, like the idiot he was, angrily threw his door open. Cold rain pounded into the cab. "What the fuck are you doing?" Lovino demanded.

Feliciano slammed his door shut. Lovino couldn't see him, the storm too strong. Ever curse he had ever used or heard of was on his lips as he opened his own door. He started when he saw Feliciano was right outside his door.

"Get out." Feliciano screamed over the winds. "If you're too scared to drive, then I will."

Lovino had also learned, though this was over the course of the year they had spent as friends, that Feliciano took unnecessary risks.

"No." Lovino decided. "With the winds and hail we could end up blowing the windshield!"

Feliciano either didn't hear him or didn't care—in their situation it could have very well been both—and was already climbing into Lovino's seat despite Lovino having not moved. He was soaked, his hair dripping into his eyes and sticking to the sides of his cheeks, his t-shirt and shorts pasted against his figure. He almost even looked pissed off, but Lovino was sure it was the fact that they hadn't taken a break off the road for over twelve hours that had him so uptight.

"Move or I'm sitting on you," he promised grumpily. Lovino tried to push him off, back into the rain that still pounded them thanks to the open door, but the kid's vice grip against the wheel and set footing in front of the pedals kept him firm. The truck roared to life before Lovino was even half-off his seat.

"Fucking brat," Lovino growled as the weathered forces slapped him around. He tried to cover his ears with his shirt, holding onto his ball cap at the same time, as he Chinese fire drill'd it around the truck. Opening the passengers door he made it a point to glare at Feliciano. "You're a fucking bastard, an idiot, and a fucking—"

"Get in or I'm leaving you behind," Feliciano snapped.

Even as Feliciano was pulling back onto the road, Lovino grasped the handle beside his head for dear life. His heart pounded in his throat. They could hydro-plane and end up in a ditch, flipped over and dead. The windows could be blown out, another driver that was as idiotic as Feliciano could crash into them, they could end up ramming into the structure of a bridge, flight-for-life getting them to a hospital to die here—if they even made it! No helicopter would be send in this fucking storm!

"you're going too fast!" Lovino screamed.

"I'm only going forty."

"The roads are wet! You have to go slower! Slow down! Watch out, I think there might be another car in front of us! Your windshield wipers are going too fast. Are your dims or brights on because it's not supposed to be bright!"

"Lovi! Stop shotgun driving and calm down!"

Feliciano just stared forward, his whole body calm against the forces against him. When it seemed that he lost control of the truck, he serenely turned to wheel no more than a centimeter, eyes seemingly concentrated beyond the storm that blinded their screen. Aside from being hunched a bit more forward than usual—though that could be because he hadn't fixed the seat forward, Lovino being taller than him—he acted as if he was driving a regular road.

Slowly, the storm seemed to light up. It was barely, far from the light drizzle Lovino might have been comfortable with, and Lovino through the falling ice could see the grand neon lights of an upcoming exit.

"Feliciano, pull over here!" he demanded. "We'll find a diner or something and spend our break there. Just fucking pull over!"

"No, we can get father than this!" Feliciano pushed back. Lovino watched desperately as the exit passed.

"I fucking hate you!" Lovino yelled, knowing full well the volume was too much for the cab but not giving three fucking shits.

"Go throw your tantrum in the back," Feliciano shot back.

"Another exit's coming up, stop there!" f

"Just calm down."

"Slow down!"

"Shut up!"

He could have grabbed the steering wheel in his paroxysm, but he held back, body too close to the ruthlessness of the storm. The wipers didn't help his nerves. They screeched and squeaked, each way a different tone, the speed seeming to pick up the more Lovino stared at them. At this point they were just a distraction to be had before the rain had a chance to disturb and hit.

Suddenly, the pocket they had found themselves in let up. It was like a bipolar switch. One minute everything was hell, the next it was calm and hardly any rain fell. Lovino still sat glued to the back of his chair, his grip tight around the handle, his heart pounding and breath scattered.

Feliciano had been calm, but now as he sat back he looked lazily content. "Wow!" he cooed.

Lovino just tried to catch his breath. "You. You are the worst."

Feliciano turned to him, a stupid grin on his face. The thrill seemed to take away his attitude, or perhaps it was the accomplishment. "It's flattering to see I can take your breath so easily," he joked with a wink.

Lovino groaned, rolling his eyes and slowly allowing his tense muscles to calm. "I fucking hate you, bastard. So you're driving?"

"Yeah, you can go do something else." Feliciano granted him, turning back to the road. "I'm opening the window, though."

Of course, he was opening the window. Lovino just sighed, awkwardly climbing over the middle console, complete with empty coffee cups and to-go boxes, setting his ball cap onto said console once he got over, and falling towards his laptop.

There was a new Dane Cook special on Netflix, and fuck-a-duck if he wasn't preparing to watch it.

He must have fallen asleep, because one minute a balding Dane Cook was making an almost-bad joke (Lovino was sour about the fact that he had left his peek behind with his gym membership) and the next Lovino was waking up, freezing his ass off in a quiet truck. No rumbling beneath him, no warm air spilling out above him. Groaning he forced himself into a sitting position. Beyond the panes of glass he could see that it was early in the morning. The sky was pink, clouds of orange tittering across the way, threatening the world with the early sun they hid.

Feliciano was no where to be found, but his door was left ajar, letting the cool air in. Lovino climbed over the console, grumbling to whole way as he made his way out.

The whole world around him was a mixture of morning-after rain, wet pavement, and rolling engines of trucks that had taken refuge in this parking lot as well. There was a small rest area that Lovino quickly pinned out, but he doubted it was anything more than a restroom and a shower.

Falling to the ground, making sure not to hit the puddle Feliciano had parked over, Lovino walked across the black cement—darker than usual, he was sure, due to the puddles and moisture. Aside from the couple trucks that joined them, a U-Haul, and a few straggled cars, there was a group of yellow and black construction vehicles surrounding a large lump of dirt right to the side of the flooding grass and trees.

Lovino could see Feliciano at the top of said pile of dirt, and all he could do at this point was shake his head. Walking over to the pile, Lovino pointed his voice to the sky.

"You're going to get in trouble," he warned. "You better come down."

Feliciano smiled down at him. "Come up here and look at the view!"

Lovino shook his head, crossing his arms, cold. "Yeah right. I'm not looking to get all muddy. Come back to the truck so we can find somewhere to get food."

"Only if you come up here first!" Lovino opened his mouth to deny, but Feliciano cut him off. "Please?"

He was a child. Lovino had decided to bring a literal child along with him. Groaning, Lovino looked around quickly, making sure none of the construction workers were around. When they had worked on the bridge near Lovino's old job, the construction workers had camped out in RVs, but as far as Lovino could now see there was neither a yellow-coated team nor camping vehicle. Defeated, Lovino began to climb.

The pile was made of mostly wet dirt and broken concrete. Lovino's feet slipped and slid, making it so he had to dirty his hands to claw up the mountain. Feliciano grabbed at his arms when he was close enough, and together they sat at the top.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Feliciano asked.

Lovino blew up his cheeks. It was the same view from the parking lot, only now slightly—oh, ever so slightly—at a different altitude. He didn't say anything mean, though. Feliciano seemed to truly believe that his discovery was ground breaking, and that some artistic masterpiece, never seen before, was revealing itself to them.

He decided quietly that he would let the kid keep his keenness and sighed. "Yeah." Feliciano grinned over at him like the whole world was just fucking perfect. Lovino rolled his eyes. "Can we go get something to eat now?"

"Beat you to the truck!"

"Hey! Calm down! This isn't fair, my bones are older than yours!"

Felicaino turned with pip, already on the pavement and threw him a kiss. "A practical cripple atop a pile of dirt. How sad."

Lovino ignored his racing pulse as he descended the mountain with a growl. "You're a little bitch, you know that?" he screamed across the parking lot, picking up his pace to try and catch up with the kid.

They weren't too far away from their destination now, seeing as Feliciano had driven through the rest of the early morning. He was insistent to promise that he had only stopped for a quarter of an hour, as if it was Lovino that would get mad if the break had been wasted (then again, he wasn't sure that 15 minutes on a pile of dirt was a useful way to use the time), and so that meant that they could eat in vs rushing out with white Styrofoam boxes to add to their pile.

They found a diner right off an exit, the parking lot big enough for Lovino to pull in and park. Feliciano was out the door before the power was cut. Lovino followed behind.

"Alright," he called after the kid. "We eat and then we get straight to the location. They want us there by ten, and it looks like we're already falling behind."

"Okay." Lovino was pretty sure that Feliciano hadn't even heard him, agree to appease.

The diner was a kindly established place. Booths lined the windows with a few scattered tables in the center of the one-room dining area. A bar sat along the far side of the wall with an assortment of beverages, but there was no bar keep at this time in the morning. Feliciano bounded to a window booth.

A waitress came to meet them, a smile on her older features, though it was both forced and tired. Lovino made a point to give her a kind smile, sympathetic to her situation. Feliciano was sympathetic in another way, his lips already parted and words spilling out. Lovino would always wonder whether or not he knew that not everyone wanted to be talked to death.

"We've been driving for hours, but I'm sure you would much rather that to standing on your feet all day—" Feliciano started his episode of sharing-too-much-information with the waitress. Lovino shuffled into the bench, sticking his nose into the menu, resting his chin on his palm. Somewhere along Lovino choosing to order the breakfast skillet and deciding to take his coffee black, Feliciano somehow had the waitress in a good mood and started swinging his feet to purposefully kick Lovino, trying to get him to join in the conversation.

Lovino attempted something, another smile and a nod. He didn't speak, though. He left that to Feliciano. Somewhere in him he wanted to snap at Feliciano and tell him that they didn't have all day, but he didn't. He was enjoying this. Feliciano wasn't complaining about anything, and he looked genuinely happy. It was almost a sad revelation that Lovino made then, noting that no one person would ever be enough for the kid. He belonged to everybody else, in a sense. They kept him…well, Lovino didn't know. He just knew that Feliciano would never be something exclusive.

Bad feelings were brushed aside as the waitress, knowingly on the clock, took their orders and wobbled down the isle to place it.

As they waited for their food, Feliciano talked. And talked. And talked. Lovino watched him, trying to study his features and catch on to what had him in such a talkative mood, but the kid wouldn't let on.

"Feli," he said. Feliciano immediately stopped talking, something strange about the way he did it. Lovino shook his head, brushing that aside, as well. "You're not talking in codes again, are you?"

"I—No," he giggled.

Lovino squinted his eyes at him. "Because I don't speak in codes. If you want me to catch something secret because we're in a situation where you can't speak freely, then we need a known—as in discussed—word or something. And, if you're wanting to tell me something but," Lovino knew the sarcastic-bitch-confused face he made could be taken as mean, but he hadn't had his coffee yet, "don't want to tell me, then, I don't know, don't or do. We're not in middle school, and we're going to be together a lot now. So, honesty or secrecy, please choose one."

"Which one do you choose?"

"What?"

"Are you honest or secretive with me?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Surprisingly, I'm an open fucking book, idiot." Feliciano laughed. Lovino took that as a sign that Feliciano didn't believe him, but that was besides the point. "Do you understand me?" Lovino asked.

"Yeah. So what do you want our sign to be? I think it should be a motion instead of a word."

"What if you want to go on one of your texting codes, or are forced to do it over the phone?"

Feliciano nodded. "You're right. So, a word that is inconspicuous enough to be used in any given situation."

The waitress came with their food, setting it down carefully. Feliciano cooed at her, Lovino offered her yet another smile.

Feliciano lightly blew at his coffee. Behind him movement came in. Lovino hardly noticed it, two or three people, he was too busy focusing on the food in front of him. "Yeah, but it can't be something that you'd use in a conversation on accident."

"Caterpillar."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "No, bastard."

"Jamba Juice."

"Be fucking serious," Lovino sighed.

Feliciano laughed, rolling a fork over his omelet. "Okay, then what do you think?"

Lovino plopped a steaming potato onto his tongue, breathing outwardly to fight off the heat in his mouth. Feliciano laughed again (he sure was chipper today) and Lovino half-heartedly glared at him. Swallowing, he mused through an answer. "How about: listen up, idiot. Something obvious."

"Oh, yes, I will just tell you to open your ears." Feliciano said sarcastically.

Lovino smiled and shook his head. "Whatever, bastard, just think on it. Continue on with your blabbing."

"I do not blab!"

"Mhmm."

"Just because you're not listening doesn't mean what I'm trying to share isn't important!"

"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten. What was that you were saying about that bumper sticker a few minutes ago?"

Feliciano turned up his chin, taking a dramatic bite of his own food. "Don't you want to know?"

Actually, no, and he was about to continue his teasing when he felt a shiver crawl down his spin. Turning around, he saw two people at the bar that had been empty when they had come in. It must have been the people that came in earlier. Lovino looked them over, two blonds—one extremely so—were sitting at two stools, hunched together as if they were discussing something important. They weren't looking in their direction—they didn't even seem to notice him and Lovino—and so Lovino had no clue why he suddenly was so aware of their presence.

"What's wrong?" Feliciano asked.

Lovino shook his head. "Nothing," he said slowly. "Just, let's hurry. We've gotta get going soon."

They were a bit later than they had expected to be. Actually, they were a lot later. By a couple hours. Lovino was practically screaming, worry bubbling through his chest.

"Lovino, it's not my fault that today was collision central day!" Feliciano screamed back at him. "So stop shouting at me!"

"I'm not shouting at you!" he shouted at Feliciano.

Feliciano hit his hand on the wheel. "Then stop shouting all together, because I'm your only audience!"

Lovino glared at him, a groan escaping, taking the air from his last bout of words. "Whatever, fucker," he muttered under his breath. Feliciano sent him an angry look before turning back to the road (he had demanded that he take the wheel after they had come up on their second detour being cut-off, as Lovino apparently "didn't take traffic stress well;" whatever the fuck that meant).

Their location had been on the outskirts on the far-end of Arizona, so they had to pass through bustling cities before they could get to it. That meant a bunch of idiots that didn't know how to drive, and were on a mission to prove it, as they kept fucking crashing into things. And when one was in a truck the size of theirs, it cut out the possibilities of taking the detours that would have them on gravel roads or passing beneath low-set rural bridges. So, limited options made them late, and Lovino was pissed about it.

Crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently, Lovino watched the highway zip by. Feliciano was pushing the speed limit as much as he could (the truck being…well, being a fucking truck), and he would appreciate that later. Right now he didn't care because this was their first job and they were already fucking up.

Finally, their exit came up.

Falling into the small town, Feliciano was able to quickly pinpoint their location—a gas station, from the looks of it—and pull in. Lovino jumped from the cab as quickly as possible, his clipboard in his hand. He rushed into the building.

It was air conditioned, and an older woman with short strawberry hair greeted him. He fitted his cap a bit better. "Ma'am," he started off, a bit rushed. "I must apologize for our lateness. There were a lot of detours."

"Oh, you're the new driver?" she asked scrupulously.

"Yes, ma'am."

She nodded, glancing down at her watch. "Alright, well, follow me and I'll show you the back and where I want everything."

Lovino nodded, fitting his cap again. She quickly ran Lovino through the jist of things. He nodded and agreed, taking mental notes of everything she said. It seemed that she had bought a bunch of product from the Kansas company and was planning to start a new display, as a good chunk of the side corner of the store was blank.

"Alright, I understand," Lovino agreed. She nodded, checking her watch again.

"I'm going to be leaving you with one of my employees as my shift is up here soon, but she should be able to walk you through anything you don't understand. If not, she has my number."

Lovino nodded. "We'll get started right away."

"Thank you."

Lovino went out, showed Feliciano where to park, and quickly ran through the game plan. Feliciano was quick to take on the task, understanding easily what he was told. Lovino, armed with a dolly and his trusty clipboard, rolled in the first round of boxes.

He tripped forward when he came in through the back and saw her. Long blond hair shaping a pointed face that looked more irritated than it did board. The top box of his pile tumbled to the ground.

"Fuck," Lovino growled, snapping out of his trance. The girl looked up at him. She shook her head, and Lovino could practically hear her voice:

What an idiot.

His heart race was much higher than it should have been. There were probably a million and a half girls that looked similar to her.

Still, he had to make sure.

Placing his box back onto the stack he straightened. She had started away.

"Natalie?"

She stopped and turned. "Yeah?"

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Have you guys ever been so exhausted that you couldn't move. Not like, oh my so tired let's sleep, but like, your whole body is stiff and even moving your tongue causes the bottom of your mouth to hurt? Idk, maybe it's just me. Sorry for this chapter being out so late, I've been super busy flirting with strangers (my little sister had a b-day party at some trampoline park, and the workers were hot af, and then this morning I was on a plane at 6 am and this hottie sat next to me so of course I flirted my ass off because I'm trash). Vacay has started, so I will be trying to write as much as possible between hanging out with old friends, the ocean, and my sister. Sorry if this chapter reads weird, I've prolly gotten 5 hours of sleep in the last 72 hours and am dying.

I also went to the Opera for the first time today. The plot was atrocious, but the performance was amazing. I swear, I either really truly don't get romance or people are fucking overreacting. So your lover is in hell for ever. Coolio. Oh, you have a chance to revive them and have uno rule to follow. Lookie there, you broke the rule. The fuck? Why are people so happy that this character got a happy ending? HE DELIBERATELY BROKE THE RULE AND OBVIOUSLY DIDN'T LEARN HIS LESSON?

Make your predictions as to what is happening! I love seeing what you guys are thinking!