Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia


It was a few days after Antonio had woken on the floor in the hallway, and Lovino still refused to tell him why he had kicked him. He had dropped the subject, but now Lovino was looking pissed off at him again.

"Lovi? Did I do something wrong?" He asked, but if anything, Lovino's expression darkened. "Lovi-?"

"Hey, Spain?" Lovino suddenly said. For a moment, Antonio's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before his world went black.

"What?" Spain snapped. Lovino's eyebrows shot up.

"Wow, I didn't think that would actually work." Spain glared at him. His eyes are darker than Antonio's, Lovino noted.

"So, you do share Antonio's consciousness?"

"...Kind of. I get the emotions and I respond to my name, but that's about it." He let out a huff of irritation. "So you're that kind."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"There are two kinds of people. The kind that hates me, and the kind who tries to research me."

Lovino rolled his eyes and leaned back into his chair. "Don't lump me in with other people. It's annoying."

"Yea," Spain laughed a bit, "cause you're a new kind, the crazy kind that tries to kill me."

Lovino waved a hand nonchalantly. "There was only one bullet in the gun, you had a fairly good chance."

"There was..." Spain paled considerably as his expression sobered. "You crazy bastard, you almost killed us."

"Next time, I suggest listening to the one holding a gun to your head." Lovino shrugged.

"..."

"Anyway, the reason I called you out, besides to test my little theory, was to set some ground rules."

"Now you're trying to give me rules?" Spain scowled. "I'm not a child, you know."

Lovino ignored him. "First off, if you leave, take your key and lock the door behind you. Don't bring strangers here. Don't bother me when I'm sleeping. If you do something illegal or stupid, don't get caught. If you do, don't give them this address."

Spain's eyes went wide for a moment, before they narrowed. "What the fuck are you trying to do?"

"What the hell are you going on about now?" He was really beginning to piss Lovino off.

"You! You're not supposed to tell me to do whatever the fuck I want, you're supposed to tell me not to come out at all!"

"Says who?"

"Everyone! Every person I've ever met says that!"

"Didn't I already say not to compare me to others?" Lovino pinched the bridge of his nose. If this is how I act, I understand why so many people hate me.

"I don't know what you're trying to do, but I'm not falling for it. Don't pretend you give a damn about me!" Spain yelled, pointing a finger accusingly at Lovino.

"I'm not!" Lovino yelled right back. "I don't give a damn, that's why I don't care what the fuck you do!"

"..." Spain froze. He blinked, then glared again. He didn't understand. Why was Lovino so different from everyone else? Why did Lovino treat him so much differently?

He blinked again, and Antonio's light green eyes were back.

Antonio blinked, trying to sort through what had just happened in his mind.

"Lovi?"

"Hmm?" Lovino hummed nonchalantly.

"Did you just...call Spain out?"

"Yea."

"Why?"

"None of your damn business. Get ready to go, crazy bastard."

"...Okay."

When they got to the hospital, Antonio immediately grabbed the guitar and disappeared down the hall while Lovino clocked in. Before long, Lovino could hear the soft acoustic tones floating from wherever the bastard had gone.