A/N: Grab a cup of coffee or some such while you read, this one's going to be much longer than the other's. Seriously, it is longer than the rest of the story combined. Also, thank you to everyone who has favourited/followed/reviewed in the past little while, my rp friend and I both sincerely appreciate all of your kindness. Also, please note that while Lovino may seem to seem a little out of character, it is merely how we think that he would handle a situation in which he had to protect Antonio rather than the other way around. Also also, if the accent is wrong, blame the roleplay partner. I didn't want to add them, but she shouted at me 'IT'S CANON', so it is not my fault.
High school is a special kind of Hell in its own, each aspect of high school being a different level of Hell. Assuming Hell has seven levels, the seven layers would be in ascending order from least painful to most painful the hallways in their overcrowded, jostling terror, then the teachers what with the absolute lack of anything interesting to say whatsoever, the scent in most of the rooms (which was something of a mix between sweat, hormones, and that scent in a room after they've just cleaned up some kid's vomit), the rest-rooms, which are far too gruesome to go into detail on, the vice principal, who was a mean old man with absolutely no sense of humour whatsoever, the disgusting brownish green slop that they call 'food', the jackasses that are considered 'people', and, the most horrible, painful, agonizing part of school; the bullying.
Now Lovino is willingly putting himself back into that stage of life. Of course, he wouldn't under normal circumstances, but if Antonio is involved he will. That said, the Italian in question bravely walks through the Gates of Hell (front doors) and sits himself down in front of the disgusting ogre that is the Vice Principal. His name is, according to the sign by the door, Mr. Goldred. His hair is thinning and a greasy grey, his eyes are a piercing blue colour that could easily stare down the most intimidating and fearless troublemaker. His face is wrinkled in a way that simply screams angry.
"Can I help you?" Mr. Goldred asks, his voice cold and scratchy, like nails on a chalkboard but at a much lower pitch. The vice principal leans forward, his brow furrowing deeper. His breath is a combination of prunes, mint and coffee, which is, quite frankly, one of the most horrid scents Lovino had been forced to sit through.
"I'm here to register," Lovino says, his voice steady. He had to wonder, even as he sat in this office for the broken boy, 'would Antonio go this far for me?'
"Let's begin with you taking home these forms to your parents, pick your courses, have them sign you into said courses and then we'll talk," Mr. Goldred says, boredly. Lovino nods, and dashes out of the building to a the nearby park (to emulate his going). He forges his parents' signatures without having to think too hard about it. Something about having to do that for years because his parents were too busy with Feliciano seems to have helped him memorize them. He carefully picks the courses that Antonio was most likely to be in, and waits. It took him maybe ten, fifteen minutes to get everything filled out and 'signed', but with parents it would take twice that.
At least, that's what his friends (the few he had) said. He honestly wouldn't know. He'd been doing his own paperwork since the third grade, when Feliciano had been put into kindergarten (how Lovino hated the word 'kindergarten' in all of its German-ness). He didn't hate his brother anymore, but at the time he truly resented how the child had managed to steal away his parents' love. It honestly didn't help that when Feliciano grew up a little he showed an early talent for everything. He could draw magnificently at around six. His piano skills were astounding, and he far surpassed the elder Vargas brother by the time he was four. It wasn't fair, it really wasn't. Lovino would try and try and try, but nothing ever came of it. He just wasn't good enough for his parents. He sighs and shakes such things from his head. He needed to save his concerns for what truly important.
Antonio.
Fifteen minutes later he walks back to the brick building, and hands in his paperwork. The vice principal looks at it carefully, probably checking for forgeries. Luckily, Lovino has done this so long that the vice principal finds absolutely nothing suspect. Five minutes of excruciating silence follows and then...
"You're all set. Classes start in a half hour, I suggest you find your way around the school," Mr. Goldred says, his face scrunching up in disgust. Lovino nods and scrambles out of the room, not wanting to be around Mr. Goldred any longer.
Lovino begins to wander the grey, dim halls, numbly noting the locations of each of his classes, the lunch room, and the library. Up ahead he notices someone very, very familiar and yet it takes him a moment to realize who it is. Antonio. 'Why-a is he slouched over, like-a he's hiding', Lovino asks himself, worried. He walks over to Antonio, and gently rests a hand on his shoulder. "Are-a you alright?"
Antonio starts a bit, but then nods. "I'm fine," he says, gently, quietly, automatically. He has said this so often that he's not even sure who he's trying to convince, the other person or himself. He gives Lovino an inquisitive look, his head tilting slightly to the right, before continuing on to say, "What do you care, anyway?"
"I-a... I just do, alright? You seem like a good person, and I don't know any of these other jackasses an-anyway," Lovino says, his pathetic attempt to comfort Antonio leaving his face a slight shade of red. Antonio snorts softly in mild amusement, and pats his head.
"Whatever you say," he mumbles, his voice deep and gruff. 'Sounds-a like he didn't get any sleep either, but at least he had a bed instead of some park bench, right' Lovino thinks to himself. Lovino puffs up his chest and crosses his arms.
"I-a do! I-a think you seem wonderful," he exclaims, cheeks nearly catching fire. Antonio gives him a slightly suspicious look, his eyebrow raising ever so slightly. Hope has blossomed in the Spaniard's chest, hope that maybe he has found someone that would understand, but at the same time there is fear. If Lovino is the same, if something does happen, then the chances of getting caught are high. They could both be in danger if something happens- no. Nothing's going to happen, or at least he hopes nothing's going to happen. But if it does, he will not be the one to stop it.
"...tonio? Antonio? Earth to Antonio," Lovino says, waving a hand in front of 'Tonio's face. as Antonio comes out of his own mind.
"Oh, si, lo siento," Antonio starts, but clarifies when Lovino sends him a very confused look, "I mean, yes, I'm sorry. I spaced out, didn't I?" Lovino nods, slowly. Lovino's biggest concern is figuring out what is wrong with Antonio, he's clearly not himself. Yes, Antonio is a general space-case, but usually when he spaces out he's smiling. Teenage Antonio doesn't seem to smile much. What could possibly have happened to him?
Lovino is about to say something when the bell rings. Antonio quickly moves over to two idiotic looking males with a huge smile on his face, one that looks eerily like Antonio's usual grin. Lovino decides not to follow for now, unsure if Antonio would really like him hanging off his arm around his friends, who terrify Lovino anyway because 1) Francis and 2) Gilbert. Who wouldn't be scared out of their shit?
Lovino, as it turns out, was only about half right on which classes Antonio is taking, or maybe he is right, but they've been assigned to different periods because Lovino only has Art and Mixed Choir with Antonio. Both classes passed uneventfully, aside from the very awkward introductions and possibly Lovino falling flat on his face in Mixed Choir. Not that the latter was very unexpected anyway.
"Hey, Lovino, can I talk to you?" Antonio asks after school, once his friends had left. Lovino nods, and follows Antonio out of the building, and onto the cracking grey cement steps in front of the building.
"What is it, Antonio?" Lovino asks, gently, as if he's afraid of destroying Antonio, which isn't that far from the truth. Antonio looks at him, studies him, his gaze cold and unyeilding. Lovino is unable to look away, unable to hide his face from the hard emerald gaze, perhaps unwilling to. He is flawed, his is just as broken, and he's afraid this Antonio will not be as caring as the Antonio he knows, but he just cannot move from that gaze.
"Are you... are you gay?" Antonio asks, softly, his voice nothing more than the whisper of the wind, a hushed question that the asker was almost too afraid to ask. The question itself was dangerous in the mind of Antonio, too many subtle implications of who and what he was that could be picked up on if one were to read carefully enough. Too many things about him that could be gleaned from one singular question for his comfort, and yet he had to know. He just had to.
"Sì, sì I am. Do you... have a problem with that?" Lovino responds, firm at first, but quickly moving into shy nervousness that is common when he feels he is being judged. Almost as common as the anger, but he cannot yell or scream at Antonio when he's this broken, can he? When Antonio is so close to being broken into a thousand little pieces? No, no he cannot.
"Be more careful in this place, people like us," Antonio starts, pausing when he's realized he has said too much, gathering his courage before continuing, "are looked down upon here. It's best to stay quiet about it, and try not to be obvious." There, he's given the best advice he can, the only advice he can.
"Alright, you be-a careful too," Lovino says, shifting awkwardly. Antonio looks at him again, this time searching about Lovino for something else. He notes dryly that Lovino looks exhausted, and there's a leaf in his hair. Where did he sleep anyway? If he slept at all.
"Aren't those the same clothes you wore yesterday?"
"Yeah, so what?"
"Where did you sleep? That is, if you slept at all."
"Uh... m-my-a parents' house?" Lovino is clearly lying, and Antonio's eyes narrow.
"I don't believe you. Where are you staying?"
"...park," Lovino mumbles, and Antonio sighs.
"Stay with me then, at least for tonight. My parents are out, so it shouldn't be a problem," Antonio demands. Lovino can only nod. Antonio begins walking, and Lovino follows. From this point on, the story is inevitably moving forward, unable to turn back to what is known and safe. What shall happen to these two? You will soon find out, but that's not the biggest question. The biggest question is, will the consequences of the events soon to pass be worth the answer that Lovino seeks?