Loving a Stranger

Chapter twelve: If he's Insecure, Let Him Know You Love Him(Even Though He'll Probably Ignore Everything You Say) ~by: Antonio Fernandez Carriedo

(A/N: That's right, a chapter in Antonio's POV. You guys deserve it for being so awesome!)

"Who would have thought a hotel would have so many rooms?" I questioned as Lovi and I strolled through yet another abandoned floor. This one seemed to be dedicated to ballrooms and meeting rooms, and was much more extravagant than the normal floors. The Italian beside me let out a short grunt of agreement, but other than that he stayed quiet. I snuck a glance at him, noticing how he hid his hands in the pockets of his too-large sweatshirt and looked everywhere except at me. I couldn't help but smile: he was so adorable!

"Why are you staring at me, creepy bastard?" He snapped, suddenly fixing his glare on me.

I chuckled and wrapped my arms around him. "Because you're so cute, Lovi!" I cooed.

He turned tomato-red and pulled away. "Shut your damn mouth. I am not cute!" I sighed slightly, wishing there was something I could do or say to make him feel better about himself. Why couldn't he see how much he meant to me?

"What's in there?" I asked, pointing to closed double doors.

Lovino shrugged. "Probably another boring empty room."

"Should we check it out?"

"Humph. I don't care."

I took that as a yes and pulled the doors open, blinking once or twice to take everything in. "Stop gawking and let me see, you stupid bastard!" Lovino grumbled, pushing past me. It was yet another ballroom, but this one was far nicer than all the others we had seen, although it was empty and didn't posses tables, or much of anything for that matter. The dancefloor seemed to shine, calling us inside like we were old friends.

"It looks like a fairy tale, mi tomate," I breathed in enchantment.

Lovi shot another glare at me. "That has to be the cheesiest fucking thing I've ever heard you say," he muttered with a shake of his head, that adorable little curl of his bouncing.

"Let's go," I said, taking his hand and pulling him inside.

"Go to hell! Don't touch me!"

I stuck out my bottom lip, but didn't release him. "But Lovi! I wanna dance with you!"

He blushed, but whether it was from embarrassment or anger, I didn't know. "I-idiota," he stammered. "We don't even have music, you Tomato Freak!"

"We can change that," I protested, letting go of his hand so I could reach into my pocket for my cell phone. I hadn't been able to bring it during Basic Training, but my mother- being the saint she is- brought it along with her. I selected a song with a sentimental smile on my face as the guitar began to softly play.

I looked to the Italian beside me to see his reaction, taking in how his hazel eyes widened in recognition. "This is...our song..." He said softly.

I nodded happily and bowed. "¿Quieres bailar conmigo?"

He flushed. "Bastard! I'm not a fucking princess!"

But he hesitantly gave me his hand as I pulled him close, moving my feet to the music. Another instrument joined the guitar; to the uneducated it would sound like a violin- but I knew those deeper, richer notes were played by a viola, Lovi's viola to be exact.

As I led him through the dance, my thoughts wandered to times past, back when he would come over after his orchestra practice with his instrument in hand. While we waited for my mother to finish a batch of churros, I would pull out my guitar while he unpacked his viola, expertly tuning it as he ordered me to play something. I would smile and play a few chords, and he would listen to where I was going before joining in. I have never seen anything as beautiful as my precious Lovi pouring his heart over that instrument. He looked so...happy. I couldn't help but stare: it was one of those situations that had helped me come to the conclusion that I was in love with him.

"We should write a song, mi tomate," I had sighed once.

He stopped playing and raised an eyebrow at me. "It would be stupid. No one would listen to it."

"I would," I said earnestly. "I'd listen to it every day, you'd listen to it once in awhile, and no one else needs to know about it."

Lovino thought about it then smiled, causing my stomach to somersault. "Fine bastard."

We had slaved over that song, working, editing, and perfecting for several long weeks. Once we were finally satisfied with our outcome, we had someone record it for us. It was still our secret- no one else on the planet knew it existed.

I looked down at the dark-haired Italian in my arms, whose clumsy tendencies hadn't followed him to the dance floor, and pulled him closer. My heart nearly skipped a beat when he didn't struggle and rested his head on my shoulder. "This is so stupid, bastard," he murmured. "If anyone was to walk by and see us dancing like this, we'd be sent to a damn asylum."

I chuckled. "Do you think so?" I lifted my left arm to lead him into a graceful spin, laughing when he returned to my chest with a red face.

"Didn't I already tell you I'm not a princess?" He demanded, suddenly interested in our feet. We grew quiet after that, listening to a song we hadn't heard in months, indulging in our own thoughts. Lovi allowed me to spin him again, and I thought I saw the shadow of a smile on his face before he hid in my shoulder. The song ended, and our dance followed suit, but we didn't move away from each other.

My eyes went from his eyes to his lips, and I smiled. "I love you, Lovi."

He glanced down again and wiggled out of my arms. "Bastardo," he muttered in a husky voice, sneaking a glance at me; were those tears in his eyes? Before I could ask him what was wrong, he turned and ran out.

I frowned and ran a hand through my hair- although there wasn't much there unfortunately. "Ay yai yai," I muttered. "Where did I mess up?"

"Go after him, mon ami."

I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep myself from screaming, my poor heart nearly gave out on me as I whirled around to see Francis emerging from behind a curtain. How and when did he get there? "That's not important," he said with a shake of his head when I asked. "You need to follow him."

"I don't think he wants to see me," I muttered gloomily. I didn't understand: Francis' advise usually got people together, it was because of him that couples like Lukas and Mathias, and Gilbert and Elizabeta were happy. I had been following his guidance for years, and where has that gotten me? Should I just give up? I clenched my fists slightly. No, I refuse to give up on mi tomate. But what else can I do?

Francis seemed to notice my doubts and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Trust me, he does," he said sincerely. "Lovino is a little confused and has some trust issues, that's all."

I sighed. "What do I do, mi amigo? All he ever does is push me away."

"Go after him. Let him know you love him and keep at it: you'll have that Italian in your bed in no time!"

I felt my face go red and shook my head as to get rid of the mental images my friend had put in my brain. "Do you know where he went?"

The Frenchman pointed towards the ceiling. "Up."


I hope this is what Francis meant, I thought as I crept down the hall of the highest floor of the hotel- I think it was somewhere around the seventieth. So far, there was no sign of my little Lovi. I sighed again as I reached the end of the hall with no luck; all there was was a door with a sign that read 'employees only.' I cracked the door open and discovered another flight of stairs. They probably lead to the roof, is what I figured. The question was; would Lovino risk going up there?

"Definitely," I murmured, slipping inside and closing the door behind me. I practically ran up the stairs and opened the next door, exposing myself to the chilly night air. I shivered slightly as I looked around the roof, finally locating the small frame of Lovino leaning against the railing with his back to me. "Lovi?" I asked softly, taking a step closer to him as the door slammed shut.

He sniffled, and wiped his face with his sleeve. "Why?"

I blinked and cocked my head to the side. "Huh?"

He turned toward me and shook his head. "Why do you love me of all fucking people? What the hell do you see in me?" He looked down. "There's nothing good about me."

I reached over and cupped his trembling chin, tilting his head up. "You're the only one who thinks that," I assured, gently wiping his tears away. "Lovi, I love you because you're so complex- and no matter how long we've known each other I'm still learning new things about you. I love that little curl you never let me touch, the beautiful color of your eyes, your smile- although I do not see it often, but it means so much to me when I do. I love how passionate you are about things not many people care about, how you're the only one who loves tomatoes as much as I do, how you look like one when you're blushing."

As if on cue, the olive-colored skin turned red beneath my fingers, and I kissed his forehead softly. "I love how you act indifferent and spiteful towards things or people- like Feliciano- but you really care about them more than anything. I love how talented you are; you play the viola so wonderfully, those rare moments when you sing sound heavenly, and you're one of the best chefs I know. I love you because you're you."

"You're so cheesy," he grumbled, a smile slightly gracing his features. He paused, biting his lip nervously. "Do you mean it?"

"Every syllable," I said earnestly.

Lovi stepped closer, letting me wrap my arms around him in a hug. "Then promise me that you won't forget me," he murmured into my shoulder.

I nodded, "I promise, mi pequeño Lovi, I could never forget you for as long as I live."

I'm not sure how long we stood there, but I slowly became conscious of how cold it was outside. "Are you cold?" I asked, squeezing him slightly. Lovi shook his head. "I was, but you're warm, bastard. We should go inside though."

I agreed to that, and held his hand as I turned back to the door and grabbed the handle. It wouldn't turn. "What?" I muttered, vainly attempting to twist it again.

"Are we locked out?" Lovi asked, taking his hand back so I could try again with both hands.

I nodded. "Sí, I think so. Come on, there's probably another door on the other side."

He muttered a, "There better be," and followed me to the other side of the roof.

I shivered again and slipped my hands into my pockets to warm them up. When did it get so cold out here?

We found another door, this one bearing the warning, "Do Not Open Door Or Alarm Will Sound." I gulped. "Now what?"

Lovino pushed past me. "We open the door, dammit. There is no way in hell I'm going to stay out here and freeze my balls off." With that, he yanked open the door in determination.

I closed my eyes, expecting a loud alarm to go off right over our heads, and red lights to start flashing, But the only thing I heard was Lovino's laughter. "Bastard! You actually thought we would get in trouble, didn't you?" He scoffed as he ducked inside.

I shook my head at him. "You can't blame me for thinking that, Lovi! The sign said-"

"Screw what the sign said. It was obviously just a scare tactic."

We continued down the long flight of stairs until the Italian in front of me stopped shortly, causing me to bump into his back. "Sorry," I murmured automatically.

"Shhh!" He hissed, his face going white.

"What is it?" I whispered. Lovi didn't say anything, so I stayed quiet, straining my ears in attempt to hear whatever it was that had freaked him out. That was when I heard it, the steady sound of footsteps coming down the stairs behind us.

"Run!" I shouted as we took off, leaping and bounding down the stairs until our momentum was too much for us to control and we nearly fell.

"HEY!" A voice yelled behind us. "WAIT!"

"Like hell we're going to wait!" Lovino shouted over his shoulder as we made it- somewhat safely- to the bottom of the stairs and sprinted toward the elevators. I punched the down arrow repeatedly as Lovi swore in between ragged huffs. "Where...is the...damn...elevator..?!" He demanded as the footsteps grew louder.

"AHA!"

We were suddenly tackled and fell to the ground in a tangled heap. "You'll never take me to jail!" Lovino was screaming, punching and kicking blindly, nearly hitting me several times in the fury of his flailing limbs.

"Ouch! Lovino, it's me! The awesome Gilbert! Stop hitting me!"

The Italian stopped his assaults and sat up, scowling. "What the hell is wrong with you, sneaking around like that, you stupid albino bastard?!"

"Sorry about that, Gil," I apologized. "You just surprised us, that's all."

"Why are you apologizing, Tomato Bastard? He's the one who was stalking us."

Gilbert ran a hand through his hair and smirked. "You should have seen your faces! It was awesome how terrified you were! Did you really think I was going to take you to jail? How fun."

It was then the elevator decided to open its doors, causing Lovi to go into a long rant about the timing.


"Alright," Francis said in his best business voice. "Sleeping arrangements. In case you didn't notice, there are only three beds in this entire suite, and Maman Josefa has the one in the other room. That means," he gave us all that look: the look that meant he was thinking up something perverted. "Two people to one bed."

Lovino, who had been sitting fairly quietly on one of the beds, looked up from his phone with a red face. "I think I'm going to sleep on the floor," he muttered.

I shook my head. "But Lovi, there won't be enough blankets for you. You could get sick."

He glared at me, a scowl forming on his lips. "I'll be fine, perverted bastard."

I smiled and sat down beside him. "Would sharing a bed with me be that bad?" I asked, watching as he grew even more flustered.

"I- uh...who the hell ever s-said we would share?" He stuttered.

Francis grinned like the Cheshire cat, his blue eyes sparkling evilly. "Would you rather be with me?"

Lovi gagged and scooted closer to my side, much to my delight. "You better stay far away from me, Snail Bastard," he warned the Frenchman.

"See? Why are you complaining?" Gilbert questioned with a frown. "I'm the one who has to be with him." He shot Francis a dangerous look. "If so much as your toenail touches me, I will dump your unawesome ass on the floor."

Francis held up his hands in mock surrender. "Do you not trust me, mon ami?"

Gilbert laughed shortly. "Not as far as I could throw you- and that's far, believe me."

Lovino climbed off the bed and grabbed some clothes out of his suitcase, muttering about taking a shower as he stalked into the bathroom and all but slammed the door.

Once he was gone, the rest of us stripped down to our boxers as if we had done it a thousand had, actually. "This is just like old times," I said thoughtfully, pulling an undershirt over my head.

Gilbert smirked as he folded up his dirty clothes and set them on top of the dresser. Contrary to popular belief he was actually the one who had taught Ludwig to be such a neat freak. "I guess it is, but back then the three of us would share one bed instead of you running off with your grumpy Italian boyfriend and leaving me alone with this unawesome thing-" he gestured at Francis, who was innocently brushing through his long golden locks.

I laughed. "But Lovi and I aren't dating. And I hardly ran off on you; Francis was the one who came up with the sleeping arrangement."

The Frenchman suddenly looked up and pointed at me with his brush. "You should be thanking me. I told you I would get him in bed with you and voila! I have done it!"

I blushed slightly, while Gilbert huffed. "Ja, that's awesome and all, but don't forget there are other people in the room. Francis probably wouldn't mind it, but I have no interest in listening to- that- while I'm trying to sleep."

Francis pretended to be appalled, but blinked in confusion as Gilbert proceeded to grab all the extra pillows to construct a divider down the center of the bed. "What are you doing?" He asked with a raise of an eyebrow.

"You are not allowed to cross this line," Gilbert explained. "If you do, I will-"

"You mean, like this?" Francis asked as he reached over and put his entire arm in Prussian territory, while said Prussian shot him a murderous look.

"You've signed a death wish," he declared, before snatching up one of the pillows and slamming it into the other's face, causing him to fall off the bed with a loud thud. "Kesesese! It must suck balls to have fallen like that! Did you hit your poor little head?"

Francis suddenly leapt up and and hurled another pillow at Gilbert. He missed, and instead it hit me in the gut.

"I'm claiming Antonio!" Gilbert announced, blocking Francis' attacks with yet another pillow.

I shrugged and jumped off the bed to join them. And just like that, a pillow fight was created. With Gilbert's and my combined efforts, we were able to hold the French lunatic back, until he managed to dodge my last attack and my pillow slammed right into...someone...

"What the fuck?!"

I dropped the pillow and stared at Lovino, who had apparently chosen the wrong moment to step out of the bathroom. He had dropped everything he had been carrying and was simply glaring at me furiously. Looks like I'm sleeping on the couch tonight.

"I'm so sorry Lovi!" I said quickly, taking a step back as I raised my hands. "It was an accident, I swear!"

He didn't look convinced, and took a threatening step towards me, while I took another step back.

"Lovino is on my team!" Francis shouted as his pillow crashed into Gilbert's, unaware of the danger I was in.

I noticed a scary look in the Italian's eyes and stepped back again, gulping as he picked up a pillow from the ground and slowly advanced. "Lovi?" I saw his lips twist into a sadistic smirk, and I shivered slightly. The back of my knees hit our bed, and I fell onto the mattress.

That was when he struck, pouncing on me as he hit me over the head repeatedly with the pillow. "You stupid bastard!" He growled.

"I'm sorry!" I protested, vainly attempting to intercept his weapon.

"Oh honhonhon! Things are getting interesting over there!" I heard a familiar French accent laugh.

Lovino froze as he suddenly became aware of the fact that I was in my boxers and he was straddling my waist, then he blushed a brighter red than any tomato I've seen.

There was my opening.

He yelped as I suddenly flipped us over and pinned his hands above his head to prevent him from hitting me again. "Antonio- damn you! Let me go!" He shouted as he squirmed under me, trying and failing to get out of my grasp.

Someone slammed a pillow down on my head, allowing Lovino to escape while I grabbed the weapon out of Gilbert's hands. It had been a long time since I had had fun like this, and I was happy to be spending this limited time with those three.


Translations

Mi tomate(Spanish)- My tomato

Idiota(Italian)- Idiot

¿Quieres bailar conmigo?(Spanish)- Do you want to dance with me?

Bastardo(Italian)- Bastard

Mon ami(French)- My friend

Mi amigo(Spanish)- My friend

Mi pequeño Lovi(Spanish)- My little Lovi

Sí(Spanish/Italian)- Yes

Maman(French)- Mother

Ja(German)- Yes

A/N: This is my official Christmas gift to you all, as this chapter is my favorite one so far! It's just….so adorable! I hope you all liked it...no loved it! I am so happy that this story has received so much love! I would have never expected it. So thank you all so very much and have a very Merry Christmas!

I love you all!

altera vita mea