So guys… I'm not even going to try and explain why I haven't been updating except school. School is why. So instead, kick back, relax and enjoy this (wordy and full of digress) chapter-thing. Not sure when I'll be updating next ahurr, sorry! Also, I laugh at myself, in the first chapter I said "I don't intend for this to be a long story." DERP.

-x-

Antonio frowned as he locked his phone, setting it down on the dining table. He sunk into the sofa, and closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands, confused. It hadn't even been an hour since Lovino had left his house, so why was he already thinking about him? Why did he feel compelled to call him, to invite him out to do something tomorrow, when they had been spending so much time together already? A thought kept creeping through his mind, but he tried his best to push it away.

It was that time, several months ago, where Francis had been watching as Lovino practiced his guitar, eyes narrowed in concentration. He had called Antonio over to him and asked a simple question.

"Do you like him?" he had asked, curiosity brimming his eyes. Of course, he had meant it as a joke, and even Antonio, who was well, Antonio, could understand that it was a joke. He knew, of course, it had to be a joke. They both knew well enough that they were pretty close to immortal. They knew that humans had short lives, and that pursuing love, if not with another nation, was pointless. All the nations knew it, and it was hard for them to accept. How easy it was, to talk to a human, to make friends, and in what seemed like an instant feel attracted to them…

Some would say it was karma for the people they had killed, physically, mentally, emotionally. The family of the deceased, killed in wars or other means, forever mourning their loved ones. The people who had died without a chance to say goodbye to their families, and the turmoil they felt, all returning back one day to them. It was their turn to feel as if they had lost someone incredibly important to them.

Antonio broke into a grin, "I shouldn't have to answer that, should I?" he had replied. They both had a little inside-joke about it for a while, but as the Spaniard got up to cook, his mood fell. He was suddenly thinking over that topic more than he should. He shook his head – no, no way was he falling in love with a human. He had never before, and he had seen how it hurt others. He knew that it was to be avoided.

Now he lay on his bed, the feelings of confusion twice-fold, this time completely uncertain of himself. Before he had always been so sure that he wouldn't fall for a human. But now, what was this he was feeling? He hadn't really been in love before, so he had trouble putting a finger on emotions.

Sure, he'd experienced hate. Loyalty, hate, annoyance, rage, they were all common amongst others. Butnever love, as countries they weren't expected to ever fall in love.

Because.. love always seemed so..

Human.

Human, is what it was, and human wasn't what they were.

His confusion, mixed with the unusually warm temperature as of recent left Antonio feeling slightly dizzy, and after attempting to cool himself off by removing several articles of clothing to no avail, decided to take a shower. The tap turned on, the warm water spilling over as he stood there blankly, as he couldn't seem to rid his head of Lovino. He tossed in his bed, unable to sleep, his head pounding for unknown reasons. He swallowed thickly as he sat up and glanced at the clock. He squeezed his eyes shut, determined to shut out whatever it was making unable to forget him, as well as make him feel miserable.

-x-

After being left alone, Antonio's words had well and truly settled in Lovino's mind. He had repeated the words to himself over and over again, the story he and Francis had told of their past – one of many, he'd assumed – and couldn't help but feel slightly… depressed.

Usually he didn't mind so much the fact that he would grow old and pass on. His mortality, it was normal. He was normal. But after hearing Francis and Antonio speak of Laura's life as if it was just a mere moment, hardly any time to them, and began as something to pass the time almost…

He gave a sigh of defeat. Why was he feeling so worked up over this anyway? What happened to him hating Antoino's guts for being a stupid suspicious bastard just a few months ago? Now he felt more at ease with him than he did with his own brother.

Speaking of brothers, Lovino couldn't hear his brother happily humming to himself in the living room, talking to his paintings (seriously, what the hell?) like he usually did. He stepped out of his room, and found himself face-to-face with a note, his name written neatly on the top.

Lovino,

I've gone out. There's pasta in the fridge in case you're hungry.

Feliciano

"Of course you're not home…" he murmured, scrunching up the note. He was feeling pretty shit still, and he had considered throughout the night asking Feliciano, who he assumed knew of this whole country-human shit seeing as his… boyfriend was fucking Germany or something. He shivered at the thought. There was no doubt Feliciano had gone to see that blonde guy anyway. If only he'd been awake earlier, he'd have considered tagging along. For knowledge reasons, though. Not for anything else.

He felt his pocket for his phone, but found it to be absent. After thinking longer than he should have, he remembered that he'd left it on his desk the night before. Running back into his room, he grabbed it and flipped it open.

"What the…" he muttered, as he saw the 2 missed calls and 3 text messages – the calls from Antonio, and one text message from Francis.

He first checked the message.

Are you free? I want to ask you something.

- Francis.

Lovino rubbed his head, he was definitely free, but what did Francis want? What could he possibly want from, Lovino narrowed his eyes, he who was 'just a human' as he'd so kindly stated just the night before?

Without thinking twice, Lovino clicked the green button on his mobile, and waited for the phone to ring. "Hello?" asked Francis.

"It's me, Lovino," he said through the receiver, "what do you want to talk to me about?" he asked.

Francis coughed, "I'd like you to come first before we discuss things, isn't that polite or whatnot?"

Lovino bit his tongue, "Sorry, I don't exactly have a lot of time to throw around freely," he lied. Damn, he needed a job so he could have an excuse from time to time. "I'd like to know whether meeting up with you will just end up being a big waste of my time."

He heard a sigh from the other end of the line, "If you insist, it's about Antonio," he said shortly.

There was a pause, and Francis gave a light laugh. "I'm sure you'll come now, right?" he said, and with a lack of better judgement, Lovino had scowled a 'fine' in response, before abruptly ending the call.

Why the fuck didn't he think before he spoke? Now he was in shit, if he was right about what he thought Francis was going to ask him about.

-x-

It turned out Lovino wasn't far from the truth. When he finally reached the small little café in some alleyway in the middle of the city (a rabbit warren, basically), he got a mere wave before Francis began his questioning. And naturally, the first question to escape his lips was more than predictable.

"So, Antonio," he began, sipping his coffee.

"What about him?" replied Lovino, folding his hands over the table and giving suspicious glances at the blonde.

He laughed, "Don't look so scared, I'm not going to bite you!" he smiled, although something about the way he said it made Lovino only shiver more. "So Antonio… is my good friend," he started. "We've known each other for… a long time, let's say. And we look after each other."

"I know him more than anyone else, Lovino, and since he's gotten to know you, I've noticed that he's become a very different person."

The Italian frowned, "And you're going to blame me for it?"

Francis narrowed his eyes slightly, "Partially, maybe," he replied. "It's not a bad thing, I stress. He's become far more carefree and excited, I'll give you that. It's been a long time since he's been this… I don't know how they say it, at peace I guess."

Lovino looked around, avoiding eye contact with the Frenchman as much as he could. He found it awkward sitting there listening to Francis spill his feelings or whatever he was saying about Antonio to him. It didn't even have anything to do with him, as far as he could tell.

"So what's your point?" he asked bluntly, unfazed by the blonde's words.

"I'm asking you, do you like him?"

He swallowed, and looked away. "Of course I like him, he's a good friend to me," he replied. He watched as Francis stared at him, a really, really creepy and uncomfortable stare, and sighed in defeat. "It was worth a try," he shrugged.

Francis almost laughed. "I can read you like a book you know," he lied, but Lovino seemed to believe him well enough. "So, do you?"

"What of it?" mumbled Lovino, looking at the floor and sure that he was probably flushing.

"There we go," smiled Francis, "that's the answer I was looking for." His eyes seemed to twinkle, but Lovino had a sneaking suspicion that maybe, just maybe, Francis saw this as a game. He could tell that no doubt the blonde found amusement in watching he and Antonio's impossible relationship develop. Assuming anything was developing at all. "Of course, I already knew that you'd say ye-"

"So, if you knew, why drag me all the way out here?" he spat.

"Don't you use that tone on me," growled Francis, "I am trying to help you."

"Help me how?" Lovino asked suspiciously.

Francis paused. "He likes you too, you know. He's just too stupid to realise it."

Lovino sucked in, "He can't be that stupid," he muttered. "He's fucking centuries old, he can't be any stupider than me."

"Don't be surprised at how stupid he can actually be, dear."

Lovino felt pissed off at his prying, and stood up, his chair toppling over. "Anything else you wanted to say?" he asked sharply, and when he got no reply, he left the shop, leaving Francis to pay for his drink.

-x-

The week seemed to drag on endlessly. He had called Antonio back, but Antonio had insisted that nothing was wrong and that he merely pocket-dialled his number. Thrice. And Lovino believed him, for some strange reason.

He visited Antonio at one point, but felt uncomfortable around him, feeling him lean over him as he played his guitar made him breathe heavier and his heart pound. He was getting all the chords wrong, and when Antonio moved his fingers to the right string, his reflex was to pull away.

"I'm sorry," Lovino mumbled, as he placed the guitar inside its case, "I guess I feel really out of it, huh?"

Antonio said nothing, but watched him pack up like a hawk. 'Was it something I did?' he thought. 'Maybe I really shouldn't have been so truthful about who I am, he seems to be more distant ever since we told him about.. about her.'

"I guess I'll come back in a bit. I'll call you."

He nodded, "Take your time. I don't want to pressure you."

And as Lovino descended those too-familiar stairs, he took what Antonio said seriously.

-x-

It had been 10 days since they'd last seen each other, and Lovino was in the public park taking a breather. He felt relaxed, he felt refreshed, but he still felt empty.

And he knew it was because of… Antonio.

Yet, he still couldn't bring himself to seeing him. Or calling him. Or even texting him. He kicked a patch of grass, dust flying everywhere. He ended up visiting a bakery and buying a sandwich, before sitting on the grass at eating it thoughtfully, enjoying the sunshine.

He was fully content to just sit there, watching the clouds or something, when something caught his attention.

Lovino frowned and rubbed his eyes. Was he seeing things, or was that really Antonio perched on the park bench by himself? He was near enough to see that he had the same brown hair and olive complexion Antonio did, but he couldn't be too sure. He crossed one of the roads, and as he did, he saw the man turn to feed the nearby birds some bread. His eyes widened – this was definitely Antonio.

His heart lurched as he realized that it had turned from almost daily contact and visits between the two, to not seeing each other for the past week and a half. He felt excited at the thought of talking to him again, and his body automatically moved towards him.

Should he call his name? No, it should be a surprise. He'd sneak behind him and slap his face or something, call him a bastard, ask where he's been, or maybe…

Lovino never got to finish his thoughts as his mind blacked out.

-x-

Sorry it sucks, I haven't really been in the mood for writing for ages, but I felt that I should at least try and update… for you guys sake!