Lovino awoke once more, this time with a piercing headache. He sat up, rubbing his head when he realized the cause. His teeth were clenched tightly together, his jaw aching. He groaned, pulling his legs up and resting his forehead on his kneecaps.

It was almost Christmas.

He hated Christmas.

Barefoot, Lovino padded into the kitchen, still drowsy. He poured himself a generous amount of red wine for breakfast before journeying to the couch.

Antonio looked up. "Good morning!" he beamed, though behind the smile he looked guilty. He hadn't been able to sleep after the events of last night, and so had taken it upon himself to walk the six miles to town and back at two in the morning to get supplies to decorate the small apartment in hopes of ingratiating himself once more in the eyes of Lovino. Silently, all night, he had sat crosslegged, making red and green paper chains and hanging them on every free surface.

Lovino scowled. "What'd you do to the place?" he complained. "It looks awful."

"You mean it looks festive?" suggested Antonio.

"No, I mean it looks like Santa Claus shat in here." He sat down heavily on the couch, a droplet of wine spilling out over the side of the glass. He licked it off the side, running his tongue up the glass before taking a sip.

"Seriously? Wine? Already?"

"Shut up."

"At least eat something."

"No." He took another sip of the wine, crossing his long legs.

"Excited for Christmas?" Antonio attempted to create conversation.

"Fuck no."

"Wha- why?"

"Christmas sucks." Lovino stood up, straightening his legs. "I'm gonna shower." Without waiting for Antonio's reply, he stalked off into the bathroom, still clutching his wine.

He started the shower and brushed his teeth. As he looked up, placing the toothbrush back in the mirrored cabinet, he caught his reflection looking back, framed by steam.

He always hated seeing himself, but today it was worse than usual- dark rings surrounded his weary eyes, and his face was sallow and somber.

He really, really hated Christmas.

He stripped and stepped into the shower, standing there, swaying slightly until he couldn't stand. Then he crouched down in the corner, feeling the shower beat down on him like rain. He remained there even once the hot water tank ran out and the water turned ice-cold and brown.

He helped his grandfather get dressed, soundlessly. For once he didn't make a scathing comment about Lovino's sexuality. When he finally spoke, it was simply,

"Christmas is tomorrow."

Lovino grunted, buttoning his grandfather's shirt.

Antonio greeted the two of them as they emerged from Roma's bedroom, but was met with silence. His smile faltered as Lovino ignored him and wheeled his grandfather over to the table, making bland beige porridge for him but eating none himself. They didn't talk, except the occasional mumble in Italian. Antonio watched from afar as Lovino gave Roma his pills and his insulin shot, pricking his finger with blood. They paid him no notice whatsoever.

Finally Roma wheeled himself back into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. The lock clicked and Lovino sat back down on the couch, draining his glass of wine tiredly.

"I- I'm sorry," apologized Antonio nervously. "For last night."

Lovino just stared straight ahead, not acknowledging him or his apology at all.

"I found this behind the dresser, cleaning your room," said Antonio, holding out a small glossy Kodak print. It was a picture of two girls, wearing matching outfits.

The taller, and presumably older, girl on the right was scowling at the camera in an unbefitting manner, clutching her skirts angrily as if she wanted to rip them off. Her thin legs were covered in band-aids and bruises, and her short, dark hair had messy ribbons tied in it. She was darker skinned, whereas the girl on the left was much fairer, with honey-colored hair and eyes. The smaller girl whom he took to be the scowling girl's little sister, was smiling innocently at the camera, practically glowing. She seemed to be the only one out of the two of them that were happy to be have had their picture taken. In the background, there was a blurred shape which looked like a hand, reaching out towards the older girl.

"Are these girls your cousins or something?" asked Antonio.

Lovino's face was tinged with embarrassment. "I'm getting another drink," he said, avoiding Antonio's eyes and question by eyeing his empty glass. He promptly stood up, clutching his glass so tight Antonio worried it might shatter in his hands.

Lovino made his way to the counter and poured himself another drink. His hands were shaking so much that wine slopped over the rim of the glass, splattering on the counter and dripping to the floor.

How did that picture still exist? He thought they had all burned a long, long time ago.

"Lovi?" Antonio called from the other side of the screen and Lovino awoke from his reverie. With a start, he realized that he had continued to pour, even when the glass was full, and currently wine was overflowing over the rim of the glass, forming a puddle on the counter and floor.

"C-Coming!" he yelled back, grabbing a paper towel and desperately trying to mop up the mess. He hurried back to the couch, clutching his brimming glass.

"Hey, Lovi?" asked Antonio quietly, and a chill like cold ice ran down Lovino's spine.

"W-What?" he responded, feigning casualness.

"I… er, well, the day after Christmas I'm.. leaving." Lovino relaxed. That was it?

"Yeah, I know," he said. "Thanks for reminding me. I need to pack."

"Pack?" Antonio's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah. I'm coming."

"Wait, Lovi, you-" Antonio began to say, but hesitated. He couldn't crush Lovino's aspirations when he was already in such a bad mood.

"What?" Lovino gulped his wine, a bit spilling out the corner of his mouth and dribbling down his chin. He licked it up and then looked at Antonio directly, demanding an answer.

"N- Nothing," he said quickly. He felt his insides squirm unpleasantly, knowing that he was lying to Lovino, but it would be cruel to tell him now and just bring his mood down further.

Selfishly wanting to avoid the subject of leaving, more for his sake than Lovino's, Antonio picked up the photo again.

Even though he had never seen these girls, they looked familiar, somehow.

The one on the right bore an uncanny resemblance to Lovino, almost unsettlingly so. And the girl on the left looked just like a younger Feliciano, but with a skirt.

"This girl looks like you, doesn't she?" Antonio pointed to the scowling girl on the right. Lovino choked on his wine, coughing red all over himself.

"I'm okay," he gasped when Antonio reached out. He waited until he had recovered, and then scooted the photo closer to him.

"Doesn't she, though?" he asked again.

"I don't- I don't see the resemblance," said Lovino quickly.

"Really? She even has the curl in the same place! And the other one, the younger girl, she looks like your little brother."

"N- Nonsense," said Lovino shakily, his eyes slanting away, unable to look Antonio in the face. "This is stupid." He stood up, some wine from his glass spilling out, but he didn't seem to notice or care. He plucked the photo from Antonio's hands and stalked off into his room, locking the door behind him.

Lovino raked his fingers through his hair anxiously, the photo in front of him. The day was already bad enough to begin with, why did he have to deal with this now too?

"Lovi?" Antonio knocked on the door hesitantly.

"Go away," responded Lovino distractedly, fixated on the picture.

"I need to get my phone."

"Too bad."

"Please?" Antonio's voice, muffled by the thin wood, sounded lost and mournful and even though he wanted to, Lovino couldn't refuse it. Swearing under his breath in Italian, he got up and unlocked the door, swinging it open a crack.

Antonio pushed through and rummaged through his bag for a couple seconds as Lovino sat back down on his mattress, knees pulled to his chest. The picture of the two girls lay flat in front of him.

"Hey." Antonio seated himself on the side of the mattress. It curved under his weight and Lovino began to fall towards him but righted himself.

"Just get your phone and go," he mumbled, looking away.

"I already had it." Antonio pulled his phone out of his pocket for Lovino to see, then put it back. "I just needed you to let me in."

Lovino sighed in disgust.

"So how you doing?" Antonio pressed.

"Fine," replied Lovino curtly.

"Really? 'Cause it doesn't seem like that."

"I said I'm fine!" snarled Lovino.

"Is it because of last night?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Because I am sorry, I really am. I never meant to yell, I just-"

"It's not about that!"

"Then what is it?!"

Lovino wrapped his thin arms around his knees, hugging them closer to his chest. Unable to meet Antonio's eyes, he said,

"Look, it's none of your business, okay? So just- just leave me alone." His voice cracked slightly.

"You're right that it's none of my business. But I can't just leave you alone. Not like this." Antonio attempted to place a hand on Lovino's shoulder, but he flinched as if wounded and quickly he pulled back.

"Sorry," he apologized, but Lovino shook his head, biting his lower lip. Antonio's eyes fell on the picture of the two girls, attracted by the glossy reflection.

"Is it because of the photo?" he tried, and Lovino's shoulders tensed.

"I'm sorry I had you look at it," Antonio said again. "I just thought you might've found it interesting or something."

Lovino tsked irritatedly, looking away. Antonio knew his bad mood was his fault, so it was also his duty to cheer Lovino up, or at least distract him from whatever was troubling him.

He stood up, holding his hand out for Lovino.

"C'mon," he said. "Let me take you out to lunch."

Lovino stared at him in surprise, then slowly his arm reached out. Antonio grabbed his hand and pulled him upright. He wobbled for a moment, legs shaky, but managed to right himself.

"Alright?" Antonio asked.

Lovino looked down at himself momentarily. Staring at his feet, he answered, "Yeah."

Antonio made sure Lovino was bundled up warmly, wearing a sweater, Antonio's coat, scarf, hat, and gloves before heading out, even though it was only forty-something degrees outside. Winter in southern Italy was not that cold, thankfully.

As they walked side-by-side down the dirt road leading out of the fields, they passed a few other workers also on their way to town. Most were silent but reproachful, but one whom Antonio recognized as the one who had fainted on their first day there spat at Lovino as they passed. It landed by his feet.

Lovino faltered, his gloved hands clenching, but continued marching on, albeit a little stiffer than before.

"Jesus, what's his deal?" grumbled Antonio, his hand hovering behind the small of Lovino's back but not touching him.

Lovino directed his attention towards his feet, kicking a small pebble with every step as they walked. His gray sneakers were shabby, the tops scuffed. The sole was slowly separating from the body of the shoe, flapping slightly, and there was a hole in the side of his right shoe, through which his bare foot was slightly visible. He was not wearing socks, and his bare ankles were visible, his jeans a couple inches too short but still too big around the waist so he was constantly pulling them up.

"Oh! Lovi!" exclaimed Antonio, and he looked up, just to see him sink down on his knee in front of him.

"Your shoelace is untied," he explained, and began to tie Lovino's shoe for him.

Lovino felt his face grow hot from beneath the scarf and unconsciously he held a hand to his mouth. He was oddly touched, even though it was just a simple, yet intimate gesture.

Antonio straightened up, smiling benevolently. "Ready?" he asked, and began to walk again. Frozen, almost forgetting where he was and why, his head full of Antonio, it was a moment before Lovino remembered and jogged to catch up with his friend.

"So where do you wanna go?" asked Antonio as they arrived on the outskirts of town. Lovino shrugged.

"Anywhere is fine." They passed a small bar. There were two men smoking in folding chairs too small for them out front.

"Nice legs, sweetheart!" the one on the left called out, smoke wafting out their mouth. Lovino flinched as if the words had hit him like a bullet, beginning to walk a little faster. Not understanding what was happening, Antonio jogged to keep up with him.

"Fighetta! Ditch darky and come have a smoke with us!"

Lovino stopped dead in his tracks, causing Antonio to almost run into him. Slowly he shook the hood of his sweatshirt away from his face.

The two men burst into raucous laughter. The one on the left laughed so hard he fell out of his chair and continued, on the ground, clutching his stomach.

"Shit! It's a dude!" gasped the one of the right, slapping his knee.

"Pretty faggy looking guy, though," the one on the left said, righting his chair and seating himself once more, still chuckling. Lovino's face flushed red and he quickly made a rude gesture before pulling his hood up again. He shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to walk, his head bowed.

"What was that?" asked Antonio, trying desperately to keep up with Lovino.

"Nothing," he mumbled.

"Really? It seemed like they were laughing. Do you know them?"

"No!" said Lovino forcefully. He chewed his lip. "They- they thought I was a girl, so they.." He trailed off.

"You mean they hollered at you?" Antonio began to laugh.

"Stop it!" hissed Lovino, elbowing Antonio in the ribs. "It's not funny, turdbrain!"

"Sorry, I just…" giggled Antonio. "You do sort of look like a girl though."

"I do not!"

"No, you kinda do! You know, you're all skinny, and you have those long legs and slender hands; plus your skin's really smooth- do you use lotion or something?- and you walk like a woman, too."

"It's not bad or anything," Antonio said hastily, seeing Lovino's angry yet embarrassed expression. "In fact, it looks good. I like it. It suits you."

Lovino sniffed contemptuously, folding his arms over his chest like a bossy mother.

"Really, it does," appeased Antonio. "In fact, its what first attracted me to you." It was only after he had said it that he realized the implications of his words.

"I- I mean," he rushed to correct himself, "You look good like that, all androgynous."

"Andro… what?" Lovino's brow furrowed in adorable confusion.

"Androgynous," explained Antonio. "It means that you look like both a boy and a girl at the same time." Lovino lowered his head, blushing furiously.

"How is that a good thing?" he muttered.

"It is! Lots of people find that look attractive- myself included." Lovino's mouth opened and then shut again, his face flushing an even darker color. Antonio grinned, a sense of accomplishment running through him like adrenaline. He reached over and attempted to ruffle Lovino's hair, but before his hand had barely even made contact with his head Lovino reached up and slapped him away as if he already knew what he was planning. Antonio giggled, putting his hand back in his pocket.

They stopped in front of a fast food chain which Antonio didn't recognize. Spizzico's, it was called, and cautiously he stepped in after Lovino, the heat of the deep fryer hitting him like a slap in the face. The whole placed smelled of an unappetizing combination of sweat, oil, and tomato sauce.

"I used to work here," explained Lovino, grabbing Antonio's arm and leading him to the counter. "You're paying, right?"

It took a moment for Antonio to comprehend what he had said, and then another moment to actually reply, for Lovino's slender fingers were still wrapped around his wrist and slowly, but surely, sliding down closer to his hand and once more, as like all the other times, Antonio found himself stunned into inaction.

"Y-Yeah," he managed finally.

"Great." Lovino turned to the cashier, speaking in Italian. She nodded, adding up the price. Antonio was shocked into full consciousness when he saw the price: 19 euros.

"Wha..?" He turned to Lovino, thinking maybe there was a mistake, but he saw that Lovino was smirking, a strange glint in his eyes.

"What are you buying?!" he asked, desperately rifling through his pockets.

"Enough food for the rest of the week," explained Lovino cooly, biting his lip to prevent himself from smiling. "You said you'd pay, right?"

Amused, he watched Antonio's confusion and desperation like a cat toying with its prey. After a while, though, he began to take pity on him.

"Just one pizza," he told the befuddled cashier, and the price dropped rapidly. Antonio breathed a sigh of relief and managed to find enough money to pay.

"That was mean, Lovi!" he whined, carrying the food to their table.

"It was also very funny." Lovino slid into the plastic seat opposite Antonio, crossing his legs slyly.

"But we are out of food at home," he added quickly, as Antonio lifted a slice to his mouth. "So don't eat a lot. We need it to last."

"Wuzzat?" Antonio asked, already stuffing the last bit of crust in his mouth.

"I said, don't eat too much! We need this to last until Saturday."

"Buh i's Tuesday!" complained Antonio thickly through a mouth full of pizza.

"Exactly. So don't stuff yourself, shitdick."

"Shitdick? That's a new one." Antonio peeked through his bangs up at Lovino.

"Yeah, I thought of it this morning. I'm rather proud of it." Lovino eyed the pizza hungrily but didn't eat anything.

"Aren't you gonna eat any?" asked Antonio, licking the grease from his fingers.

Lovino shook his head. "I gotta save it for Roma."

Antonio slurped his drink calmly, but inside he was raging. Why should Lovino slave away and take nothing for himself for this old man who gave him nothing in return? Why did Lovino feel the need to starve, to work himself to death for someone who would never appreciate him? It made him angry to no extent, and even angrier when Lovino, one of the stubbornest, most strong-willed and foulmouthed persons Antonio knew, would constantly bend over backwards for someone who had betrayed him.

"Why do you care so much?" he asked quietly.

"Cup," said Lovino simply, nodding to Antonio's right hand. He looked down. His right hand was clenching the paper cup of soda so tight it had crumpled in upon itself, the cap fallen off. His shirt sleeve was wet with cola.

"I- " he mumbled, confused, staring at his hand intently as if it might offer an explanation. "I'll go get some napkins," he said, and left the table.

Silently they walked back home. Antonio had managed to convince Lovino to at least eat two slices of the pizza, leaving four pieces for his grandfather. It was only five pm, but the sun had begun to set, sending glowering vermillion streaks across the fading pink sky.

Antonio shivered, blowing on his hands to warm them up. Lovino eyed him guiltily from the side. Antonio had lent him his gloves.

"Here," said Lovino, pulling off his right glove and handing it to Antonio, who was walking next to him on his right side.

Antonio stared at it reproachfully.

"Go on," urged Lovino. "I'm fine. Really."

Reluctantly Antonio reached out and took it, placing it on his right hand. "Thanks," he mumbled embarrassedly.

After a couple minutes of more silent walking, Antonio glanced back at Lovino, who was rubbing his bare hand against his gloved one, blowing on them. He looked down at his own left hand, hanging limply by his side, and then back to Lovino's.

Lovino caught him looking. "What?" he snapped, following Antonio's gaze to his hand.

"Seriously?" he raised an eyebrow cynically.

"Well, I mean, your hand is cold, and my hand is cold, so might make sense to.. you know..?"

Lovino sighed in disgust. "Fine," he agreed eventually, and held out his right hand. Taken by surprise, Antonio just stared at it, unsure if this was real or a dream.

"Are we gonna or not?!"

"Uh," was all Antonio managed to say. Slowly his hand inched towards Lovino's. He hesitated.

Think of Emma, he urged himself, but Emma was then and Lovino was now and his hand was cold and they were on a whole different continent where Emma would never have to know if they maybe held hands for just a teensy tiny bit of time...

"Jesus fucking Christ, do I have to do everything by myself?" complained Lovino, and grabbed onto Antonio's hand.

Antonio could feel Lovino's slender, cool fingers on top of his own rough ones, and suddenly the cold didn't seem as prominent or as powerful; instead, a great bubbling warmth grew inside of him, leading from Lovino's fingertips and infecting his whole body.

Shocked, but also pleased at Lovino's initiative, Antonio turned to his friend beside him. His cheeks and ears were flushed red, perhaps from the cold, but something told him that the cold wasn't the cause.

Lovino looked up, his eyes connecting with Antonio's. Quickly Antonio forced himself to look away.

"What?" demanded Lovino. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"Sorry," he apologized automatically, unable to stop the grin from spreading across his face. "I'm just happy, that's all."

He squeezed Lovino's hand momentarily, hearing a little gasp. Quickly he glanced back at Lovino but he looked down, burying his face in his scarf. The tops of his ears were red.

"Stupid," he muttered from within the confines of the scarf, but his eyes were smiling.