Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

Kicking the Bucket List

ten

"In the chill of your stare, I am painfully lost
Like a deer in the lights of an oncoming bus.
For the thrill of your touch, I will shamefully lust
As you tell me we're nothing but trouble."
— A Love Like War by All Time Low (ft. Vic Fuentes)

Ah~ It's a wonderful Wednesday morning! Antonio had woken up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed because he had finally gotten Feliciano's number yesterday during lunch~ He got to call him last night as well~! It was amazing. He thanked his lucky stars that morning as he made his way down to the Vargas brothers' apartment complex. Things were finally starting to progress with him, and Toni had to make the next move; take the next step.

"Buenos dias, Feli~!" Antonio says, beaming at the cute little Italian as the latter walked out of the building. He goes in for The Hug, only to have Lovino step in between them at the last second, angry hazel eyes meeting his.

"Back the fuck up, asshole." The older twin growls out, a scowl hardening his features.

"Aw, Lovi," Feliciano intervenes, grabbing the aforementioned's forearm and tugging at it. "Not so early in the morning!"

Antonio furrowed his brows at this, lips pressed together as he looked into Lovino's eyes, as if searching for something.

After several seconds of intense staring (glaring, on Lovino's part), the latter shrugs Feli's arm off and starts bustling down the sidewalk.

What's his problem now? The Spaniard found himself wondering. Usually, Lovino would have this tirade of various insults directed towards him, but he was more clipped (and somewhat angrier) this morning.

"Ve~ I'm really sorry about Lovi. He got into an argument with Nonno last night and he's taking it really hard right now." Feli apologises quickly, before speeding up to catch up with Lovino.

Antonio manages to grab Feliciano's hand, tugging at it. "Wait, I got you something!"

"Oh, Toni," Feli begins, only to trail off when Toni lifts his gift up. His honey brown eyes widen in surprise. A teddy bear..? Holding a bowl of pasta? A smile creeps upon Feliciano's face as he takes it from the lovesick Spaniard. Ve~ Che figata!

"Oh, wow, grazie~!" Feliciano exclaims, hugging the teddy bear to his chest. Antonio laughs at Feli's ebullience, his heart beating a little bit faster.

"You're so cute, Feli!" He exclaims, ruffling the younger Vargas brother's hair as he stepped a little bit closer.

He liked Feliciano.

He really, really, really liked him.

Like, a lot.

He's just so cute and nice and perfect~ Antonio could only hope that one day, Feliciano would return his feelings soon~.

Antonio had philosophy with Lovino for his first morning class on Wednesdays. After That Day In The Diner last week, Toni made sure to sit far, far away from Lovino when he realised they'd be in another class together.

Lovino sat in the back of the room, so Antonio grabbed a seat in front.

But today, since Toni felt bolder than usual, he decided to try and make amends with the grumpy Italian. Emphasis on 'try'.

"Hola, Lovino." Antonio greets upon reaching the brunette. The latter stiffened, his grip on the pen in his hand tightening as he closed his notebook a fraction, as if trying to conceal it from the Spaniard. He lifts his head up to glare at Antonio suspiciously. He says nothing, merely turning back to his notebook to continue writing as his response.

The other gulps before gingerly sitting beside Lovino, setting his backpack on the floor.

Lovino stops writing. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He snippily demands, scowling at the Spaniard. "You don't sit here."

Antonio fakes an amiable smile, "Well, I am now~!"

The Vargas brother's face scrunches up in disgust. "Why?"

"Why not?" Toni asks in response.

A deep sigh escapes Lovino's lips before he begins to chuckle darkly. "Real fucking funny, bastard. You and I both know we can't stand each other. If you even think for one goddamn second that sucking up to me will magically make me not hate you, and give you my fucking 'blessing' to date mio fratello, then you've got another thing coming, you fucking douche nozzle, because you are wrong as fuck."

Ah~ There it is. The harangue.

Antonio momentarily inwardly laughed at the word 'harangue'. I-It kinda sounded like… hahahaha~

Little did he know he was actually laughing in real life.

"What the fuck are you laughing at, bastard?" Lovino barks, face flushed in frustration and his eyes narrowed.

"What do you call an ape that likes to complain a lot?" Toni asks, eager to share his joke with someone. Even if that someone was Lovino.

The latter gave him a weirded-out look. "What? …Wait, no, what the fuck—"

"A harangue-utan!" Antonio exclaims, emerald green eyes widening. "Get it? Because of the word 'harangue' and 'orangutan'?" He pulls away, laughing raucously, as tears ran down his cheeks in rivulets. Dios mio.

Lovino couldn't help b-but stare at the Spaniard blankly for several seconds, more nonplussed than anything, before face-palming himself. "Oh my God, that was so lame." His shoulders began to shake with poorly-contained mirth as he buried his face in his hands. "Dio, I am so done."

"Y-You're… you're laughing!" Antonio points out, eyes wide in astonishment. He felt all f-fluttery inside, and kinda proud of himself for making someone like Lovino laugh. Like, that was a major accomplishment. He should get a prize or something! People should really make awards for stuff like that~!

"No, I'm not!" Lovino roars in between his silenced laughter, trying to whack the Spaniard without looking at him, who easily dodged the hit. "…Jesus Christ. 'Harangue-utan'. I— I fucking can't—"

He rubs his face, trying to keep himself from laughing at that Spanish bastard's lame ass joke.

Seriously, it was terrible. That joke was absolutely fucking terrible. How the fuck could a shitty pun like that get him to fucking laugh, dammit?

Antonio could only look at Lovino in slight bewilderment and curiosity as Lovino's cheeks reddened. It wasn't just a tinge of pink, or something like that; his face was becoming really, really red, just like a—

"Tomato!"

Whoops~. Did he just say that out loud..?

In an effort to correct himself, Antonio clears his throat and tries to save face. "You look like a tomato, Lovino~!"

Okay, much better~.

"What?" Lovino barks. His voice kinda comes out as shrilly because of his exasperation. Like a twelve year-old on the cusp of puberty or something. "No, I don't! Y-You fucking bastard!"

And his face reddens even more.

Toni's stomach kinda begins to feel funny. L-Like it was doing somersaults in his body.

…Did he eat something bad earlier?

Aside from that… Lovino looks quite— dare he say it— cute at the moment.

Very cute~.

Subconsciously, Antonio licks his lips as Lovino begins to rant again.

About what?

Toni didn't know. He… kinda tuned Lovino out, so it all kinda became white noise. Y'know, the sound prehistoric TVs make when it doesn't have any signal?

Pshhhht~

So he just sat and stared at the frustrated Italian.

Dios, his eyes are pretty. Are they brown or are they green?

He squints a bit.

Maybe it was a mix of both? That's pretty cool~.

Lovino's mouth abruptly stops moving as his hazel eyes flicker over Antonio's shoulder.

The Spaniard is somewhat pulled out of his trance as he takes a glance behind him.

There's a girl standing there, probably the one who sat beside Lovino in this class last week, and she's wondering why Toni is there, sitting in her spot.

He glances back at Lovino, who is trying not to let any expletives seep into his words. His voice is velvety, smooth; yet its timbre is low, with undertones of his Italian accent evident in how he pronounced some of his words.

Lovino's voice is only nice when he talks to girls, Antonio notes. Actually? Lovino's only nice when he talks to girls, period.

He feels somewhat perturbed by this, but he hasn't any clue why.

Emerald green eyes linger on Lovino's face, which had visibly relaxed in the face of a predominantly X-chromosome-d individual.

A charming smile tugs at the corner of Lovino's lips and suddenly, Toni's breathing grows a little bit more shallow.

…Wow. H-He's so cute—

Hazel eyes suddenly meet his own and he internally flinches. They've gone cold again. How does he keep on doing that? How can he do that, even?

Was there like an on/off switch for the Italian's good mood or something..?

"Class is starting. Better get up, asshole," Lovino growls out. His tone is sharp and commanding now. The Spaniard couldn't help but feel a twinge of hurt, though Lovino's used the exact same tone on him before.

Antonio gulps before subconsciously licking his lips. He suddenly finds it hard to look Lovino in the eye, so his eyes are downcast, focussed on his lap. "Ah… Si, si. Lo siento, I… I'll go now."

He stands up and grabs his backpack before heading to his seat in front of the class.

"Finally," the girl exclaims in exasperation, flopping down on her seat beside Lovino. "Good riddance!"

Together, they laugh. Antonio's grip on his backpack tightens.

The professor came in and checked the attendance before beginning the lecture. As much as he wanted to, Antonio couldn't really focus on the lesson being taught. No, his attention was being drawn to the mercurial Italian seated a couple of rows behind him.

Every once in a while, he would take a glance behind him and look at Lovino.

He and the girl beside him didn't talk anymore; the latter was too busy paying attention to the professor. But Lovino… he just sat in his chair, and stared straight at his desk, eyes unfocused. He seemed distant.

Like though he was there, physically, his mind was elsewhere.

He wasn't even writing.

Antonio wondered what kind of thoughts were running through the enigmatic Italian's head.

It was after their philosophy class when Antonio tried to talk to Lovino again. He approached the Italian, his heart rapidly beating against his chest as his palms started to sweat. It became hard to breathe.

Why was he even doing this, though?

Then again, why not, right?

Lovino had finished stuffing his notebook in his backpack when he glanced up and saw the stupid Spanish bastard staring at him again. Man, what the fuck is this guy's problem, dammit?

"What now?" He snaps, his glare freezing to arctic proportions.

Antonio opened his mouth only to close it again. He did this several more times before Lovino finally scoffed at him, face twisted in distaste. "Jesus. You're a fucking retard."

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and left the room.

Toni let out a deep breath, running a hand through his unruly hair. Dios, what was the matter with him? Why couldn't he say anything? He had it in his head— he had what he wanted to say on the tip of his tongue, yet being in the mere presence of someone he didn't know how to approach had left the words dying on his tongue before they even had the chance to be spoken. He had no problem talking (arguing) with Lovino before. Why was this so different now?

This is really, really weird.

M-Maybe he should talk to Gilbert and Francis, si?

It was lunchtime once again when the Bad Touch Trio decided to rendezvous in the atrium and eat their lunch there. Gil set his textbooks full of code (he was taking game design at EHU) down on the granite table and voraciously began to chow down on his double cheeseburger.

Francis had opted to bring his own lunch of coq au vin leftover from last night's dinner whilst Toni went to the canteen to get himself some lunch.

Several minutes later, the latter comes back and sits at the table, his visage somewhat clouded, like there was something bothering him.

Gil glances up mid-cheeseburger and reaches over to nudge Antonio's arm. "Tone, you okay?"

Toni breaks away from his thoughts, shaking his head slightly. He gives the self-proclaimed Prussian a reassuring smile. "Ah, si, I am. I was just… thinking."

That… That came as a surprise. Truth be told, Antonio isn't exactly the type to sit and reflect, so hearing this immediately piques the curiosity the other two.

"About what?" Gil asks.

As if it took quite an amount of effort, the Spaniard draws and releases a long, heavy breath. "…Stuff."

"Well, what kind of 'stuff', mon ami?" Francis presses, his blue eyes glazed with concern. Antoine's acting very weird at the moment. He never got this quiet unless there was something really serious bothering him.

"Yesterday, I ran into Ms. Sharp." Toni begins.

"Yeah, you told us about that already," Gilbert comments before taking another bite of his burger.

"And I helped her carry some of her stuff, si? Because she had this really huge load in her arms, and it looked very heavy! She had all these books and papers; I wonder what all of those books were about. It's like everyone I saw had a stack of books in their arms that day and—"

Francis places his hand atop Antonio's in quasi-exasperation. "Mon Dieu, Antoine; please stay on track."

"I'm getting there! So as we're walking, I glance at the top of the pile in my arms and I see it's something Lovino wrote."

Lovino..?

Gilbert and Francis share a glance.

"So I was like, why not, right? Surprisingly, his writing sounded nothing like how he talks in real life. I-It's as if it was written by an entirely different person."

"How so?" Francis asks.

"I don't know, really. Like, he started off by describing this forest, then describing a garden. He had a way with words, like they just meshed together really well. And he didn't use bad words like I thought he would either. It was nice, the way he used gardens and forests as metaphors and all…" He trails off, glancing down at his hands. "He's more perceptive than I thought he was. And I think there's more to Lovino than what he lets other people see."

Again, Francis and Gilbert glance at each other with concern and slight surprise. Was Antonio going through a Shift already?

Gott, that was fast.

Because, y'see, Toni's a great guy. Really. The dude's nearly as awesome as he is. But he is human, and humans have flaws. That is a fact. Being susceptible to Shifts is one of Toni's flaws.

He gets attached to people really, really easily. He becomes infatuated, borderline obsessed; thing is, he loses interest in people just as quickly as he becomes interested in them. He's always been like this. Francis and Gilbert have witnessed it enough to have a moniker for it; Shifting.

It usually ends badly. Like, for the people he's infatuated with before his interest Shifts. He gets their hopes up. They think he feels for them as strongly as they do for him, and in that moment, he truly does. There's no malice. There are no lies. But the moment someone else catches his eye, he drops that person like a hot potato.

It's a vicious cycle, but it's the way Antonio is. It's sad, really, because once you strip it— the Shifting—down to its very husk, no matter how nice and genuinely kind he is, Antonio uses people. He toys with them and their emotions, though he doesn't mean to. He could never do that to a person on purpose— he's completely unaware of it. Gilbert and Francis have been thinking of how to break it to him for a while now.

It was odd, though, for Antonio to Shift his attention so quickly. Especially if one were to compare the time it took for Toni to lose interest in one person and be infatuated with the next. With how passionately Toni spoke of Feliciano, Francis and Gilbert had thought that this was it. That his feelings were real this time, after pursuing the Italian so vehemently, only to end up having his attention drawn to the other Vargas twin.

But, seriously, why Lovino of all people?

This is bad.

This is really, really bad.

Gilbert, for everyone's sake, could only hope that the Spaniard's soon-to-be infatuation with Lovino would pass just as swiftly as it came.

"'But who could ever love someone who envies the sun?'" Antonio says suddenly.

Francis raises an eyebrow at the statement. Where did that come from?

"H-He wrote that. Lovino, I mean." The former answers, licking his lips. His eyes are trained on something, someone across the atrium. He's looking at Lovino, who's hanging out with the other freshmen from their alma mater who are taking Performing Arts.

He's staring at the Italian so intently, so silently. It really is… odd seeing Antoine act like this.

"Antoine, are you sure you're okay? You're very quiet right now, ami, and it's starting to worry me."

Antonio glances up at the Frenchman and gives him a reassuring smile. "Ah, don't worry about me, Franny~ I'm just kinda wrapped up in my own thoughts, is all~!"

After a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, "Say, Franny; do you think Lovino and I can ever become friends?"

The blond internally face-palms himself. Mon Dieu, this was really happening, wasn't it?

Antoine is seriously Shifting his interest to Lovino, isn't he..? And he isn't even aware of it.

"Um," Francis starts, already knowing that the Italian would rather drop dead than befriend the bubbly Spaniard, let alone him or Gilbert— especially after That Day In The Diner. "Mon ami, Lovino is a very… Hmm. How do I say this? He is quite hard to get along with, Antoine, and given the circumstances between the both of you, I personally think that a friendship between you two would be very… unlikely."

Immediately, Antonio is crestfallen. "R-Really?"

The Frenchman inwardly frets, trying to do some damage control. He waves his hands before him in a dismissive manner, "But don't take my word for it, Antoine! Who knows? Maybe someday, you two will become wonderful friends! Despite your differences, don't let that stop you!"

The brunette grins, feeling much better. "Ah~ Thanks for that, mi amigo~ You always know what to say~! I'll try and talk to him the next time I see him~!"

"Oh my gosh, you guys," Feliks starts, dragging someone to the squad as they congregated in this cute, little patisserie Michelle discovered the other day. "Meet my new boytoy~. Toris, say 'hi'!"

Toris is an anxious-looking brunette, fidgeting about in discomfort. Hesitantly, he glances up at the group before finding his resolve and clearing his throat. He stands up a bit straighter as he nods at them. "Hello, my name is Toris Laurinaitis."

"Aww~ You are so cute~!" Elizabeta coos, beaming at the Lithuanian. She pulls her camcorder out of her Nine West bag. Inconspicuously, she mutters under her breath, "I ship it."

Feliks waves her off, "Hands off, Liz; he's mine."

Lovino rolls his eyes as he turns to Bella. "Remind me again why I'm here?"

The Belgian pouts at him, and points at her quivering bottom lip. "Because of this~" she says in a mockingly pitiful tone.

He growls and pushes her face away, and she squeals, laughing.

"So, Toris," Michelle says, crossing her arms over her chest. "What course are you taking? Do you go to Evergreen Hollows too?"

"Ah, yes I do. I—I'm taking up sound engineering."

"Cool— Oh, yeah! Take a seat!"

"Oh em Gee, 'Chelle, your brows are, like, on fleek today!"

"Aww, why thank you!"

"Lovi," Bella taps his arm, bringing his attention away from the rest of the group. "You remember my little brother, Henri, right?"

He raises an eyebrow at her. "Si, I do. Why?"

So Henri's kind of a kid prodigy. He doesn't go to the same school as Lovino and Bella did, but instead, he goes to this really prestigious (thus, obscure) institution for other brainboxes with IQs like his. He's even a member of freaking Mensa. He could very well PWN Feliciano in regards to academics.

The kid is practically a future president in-the-making. He isn't just science-y or arithmetically smart, but he was really smart, smart. Even at a young age, he already had his eyes on the prize. He wanted to bring in The Big Bucks.

An excited squeal escapes her lips, "He got in! He's skipping a year, so next fall, he'll be taking up pre-law in Harvard~! Isn't that cool?!"

"So?" Lovino scoffs.

"So, I'll be throwing this super-ultra-huge party at my place Friday night~! Wanna come? It'll be so fun!"

The Italian cringes at the prospect of having to deal with other people. Eurgh. Even when he was still a little boy, he was already aware of the fact that he lacked the savoir faire other normal people would have.

Like that one time he and Feliciano had a joint birthday party, because no shit, they're twins. They were, like, turning six years old back then? Anyways, they invited all of their classmates over to their home for the festivities. Nonno cooked up a feast, and the entire backyard was decorated with faggoty streamers and helium-inflated balloons the colours of the rainbow.

Classic picture, right?

The shitty brats started arriving at nine o' clock, so they played a few games until it was time to eat. And by 'they', that meant everyone else but Lovino.

Sure; the game of tag was fun, but when it was time for hide-and-seek…

Alright. Truth be told, Lovino thought he was the shit for finding a great hiding spot (it was in the scary as fuck shed at the edge of the yard). Thing is, his hiding spot was a bit too good.

Yeah, that's right, bitch. Nobody found him.

He just f-fucking sat there in that ratchet ass shed, waiting for them t-to start counting or something. So all of the remaining kids in hiding would come out so they could start the game over again.

But nobody started counting.

Dio, it was so hot in that dingy shithole, the heat came rolling in, in waves that washed over him in the form of gross sweat. He wanted to come out, but his pride wouldn't allow him to!

He gave it a few more minutes, thought about getting out, and decided to exit the shed several more minutes after that. He felt like he was going to pass out already, dammit!

The moment he exited that shed, the cool spring air soothed his feverish skin. He fell to the ground and his mind started spinning.

In the distance, he could see all of his classmates gathering around the 2 picnic tables with all the cake and all the food. They were singing the happy birthday song, and Feliciano was the sole celebrant (not that anyone noticed), excitedly eyeing the cake Nonno bought.

It was then when it hit Lovino that they weren't even looking for him in the first place.

He could do naught but watch in silent horror as his brother blew the candles out without him and as everyone cheered for the only twin present. Like, how fucked up was that?! It's a fucking joint birthday party. For twins. And those assholes weren't even wondering where Lovino was.

So he just sat there, thinking, Fuck you.

Fuck all of you.

Fuck you, fuck your dad, fuck your mom.

Fuck you all to hell.

I hope you pieces of shit get salmonella and die.

Nonno didn't even give a shit that one half of the celebrants wasn't even there. He just cut the cake for all of them with this dopey smile on his face. Eurgh.

It's safe to say that Lovino flat-out refused to have anymore joint birthday parties after that.

"…Lovi? Lovi. Lovino."

The aforementioned Italian is brought out of his reverie thanks to Bella lightly slapping his face. He swats her hand away, "What, dammit?"

She gives him a weird look. "Are you okay? You blanked out on me. I think I just saw your life flash before your eyes."

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "It— It's nothing, dammit, so don't worry about it."

The blond eyes him inquisitively a little longer before she opts to shrug it off. "…Sure. Anyways, you'll come, right? To the party?"

"Uh…"

"Please?!" She pleads, seizing his hand and bringing it closer to her.

"The fuck?" He sputters out, pulling it away from her grasp.

"It's gonna be so fun. I promise you, you will have the time of your life."

He sighs, slowly shaking his head.

"Lovi, please? It's not often that I get to throw parties!" She straightens up, determined to improve her argument. "Look. My parents are away for the weekend; they're going back to Luxembourg to visit Nana. I fought tooth and nail with Lars just to throw this party. Like, you know how much of a penny-pincher he is! And it'd mean so much if you came! I've never done this party-planning thing on my own before, and I want this to be, like, a night to remember. One so memorable, that when we're all old and wrinkly, we would look back at this in bouts of nostalgia and think to ourselves, 'hey, remember that crazy party Bella threw at her house that one time?' and you'd be there, in your cute little rocking chair, going like, 'yeah, that was an insane party, dammit', and—"

"Bella, you're ranting. Stop." Lovino interjects, clapping his hand over her mouth. "Also? That was a terrible impression of me."

She rolls her icy green eyes, pulling his hand away from her mouth. She pouts at him, "So you'll come?"

He stares her down for several more seconds before sighing, rolling his eyes. "Fine, dammit. But only if you promise me to never do that again."

She raises three fingers up, grinning at him. "Scout's honour!"

Translations:

Buenos dias - Good morning (Esp.)
Che figata - What a cool thing!
Nonno - grandfather (It.)
grazie - thank you (It.)
hola - hello (Esp.)
mio fratello - my brother (It.)
Dios mio - Oh my God (Esp.)
Dio - God (It.)
Dios - God (Esp.)
Si - yes (Esp./It.)
lo siento - I'm sorry (Esp.)
mon ami - my friend (Fr.)
mon Dieu - Oh my God (Fr.)
Gott - God (Dt.)
ami - friend (Fr.)

The plot thickens. Oooo~ If you're wondering how the ding dang doodly Antonio is IC in this, Himaruya's revealed that Spain 'might as well have "two faces" like Russia'. I wanted Toni's character to have more depth, so he'll be kinda two-faced in this fic.

So I kinda got stuck with the BTT scene here. I suck at their characterisation, so if there's anything OOC, or anything I can do to portray them better, please do tell me. :D

Lovino will finally get to cross something off his list. Who can guess what it is?

And thanks so much for all the wonderful feedback~! All the favourites and all the follows~ I hope this story will mean just as much to you as it does to me.

Review, por favore!

~jellydonut16~

P.S. A Love Like War is my JAM! :D