Lovino could list a thousand reason why he should hate the Prussian.
In the weeks since the party, since the stupid incident, Lovino had thought about those reasons a lot.
Like how Gilbert was loud, and imposing. Whenever he was in a room, it was almost impossible to focus on anything else. How long could Lovino possibly put up with someone like that?
Or there was his track record with relationships, how many could Lovino count?
And Lovino had just gotten out of a relationship himself, with Gilbert's best friend. Why was he even considering this? Lovino needed more time, he still wasn't over Antonio!
Every time Lovino thought about Gilbert, he thought about the party. About what Gilbert had said the next morning, when Lovino had confronted him.
"What the hell were you doing last night?"
"Last night? No idea, I don't remember."
Lovino's anger came back to him, the hurt, the tears that had threatened to spill from his eyes, he remembered it all. He'd been stupid to think it meant anything, stupid to consider that Gilbert had even known what he was doing while he'd been drinking.
And yet a small part of Lovino's brain refused to believe that it had meant nothing, reminding him of all the things that stopped him from hating the Prussian.
The first Lovino always thought of was his laugh. There were so many other things that might follow, but the laugh was always first. It was unmistakable, Lovino could find no other sound to even compare it to. Many nations considered it annoying, or grating, but he didn't. It was just a reminder that the Prussian was there.
But Gilbert could also be quiet, when he wanted to be. Lovino couldn't help but remember when Gilbert had stayed over, and they'd sat together watching TV. Gilbert hadn't been loud then. The only time they'd really talked was when Gilbert had asked Lovino to translate the Italian, or to laugh at the pretentious, over-dramatic acting. Lovino couldn't possibly have hated the Prussian then.
The grey sky across Southern Italy reflected Lovino's mood. He felt as dull as the sky, numb and unfeeling. Even Linosa's concerned meows didn't distract the Italian as he sat on the couch, staring into space.
What did finally grab his attention was his phone.
It rung persistently, echoing throughout the stone walls of the cold, empty house. Each ring seemed to grow louder than the first, boring into Lovino's very skull. The perpetual ringing never seemed to end, until finally he couldn't bear to hear it anymore. Reaching towards the coffee table, where it lay vibrating against the wood, he looked to the screen.
Gilbert Beilschmidt
For a moment Lovino considered declining the call. Then, with a barely audible groan, he answered it, lifting the phone to his ear.
"What?" he snapped, growling.
"I lied."
"Again, what?" Lovino asked, getting irritated. He was not in the mood for the incoherent ramblings of a Prussian. Maybe he should add this conversation to the list of reasons why he should hate the Prussian.
"About the party, when I said I didn't remember, I was lying."
Gilbert's words came out rushed and barely comprehensible, but they still brought Lovino's world to a sudden, grinding halt.
The party.
He remembered the kiss? But he couldn't! Lovino wanted to die, whether it was out of embarrassment, shame or anger he didn't know. The emotions raced around inside his head, Lovino completely at their mercy as he struggled to process the Prussian's words. Anger won out in the end.
"What the hell?" Lovino shouted, scaring Linosa into scampering away.
"I'm sorry…" Gilbert mumbled, and for a moment Lovino faltered at the tone of his voice, the sincerity he heard. He almost wanted to forgive him, to calm down and talk about this. Almost.
"You said you didn't remember!" Lovino growled, hands shaking.
"Shut up and listen to me!" Gilbert yelled.
His commanding tone shocked Lovino into remaining quiet. There was a pause, a silence that seemed to stretch into eternity. Then a long, drawn-out sigh, before Gilbert finally continued.
"All I could remember was you struggling, trying to get away and…I thought you didn't like it. I thought you would hate me for trying," Gilbert said quietly, honestly. "I thought you were rejecting me."
"Then why are you telling me now?" Lovino asked softly, anger subsiding as he listened to the Prussian's words.
"I kept thinking about it, until eventually I remembered the rest," Gilbert replied. Lovino could imagine him shrugging on the other side of the phone, trying to act more confident than he really felt. Lovino knew that feeling all too well.
"And?" Lovino asked, fighting to not revert to his usual defence mechanism of closing up, acting cold and harsh. It was harder to get hurt that way, but it was harder to ever get close to anyone.
"Maybe we could…try again sometime?"
Gilbert's voice was so hopeful. There wasn't a trace of the loud, assertive tone that it had held earlier.
So despite everything Lovino had been trying to tell himself, despite all the reasons he could think of against it, there was only one answer he could have ever given to that question.
"I'd like that."