Antonio's house was neither fancy nor poor, it was a simple and humble wooden structure with a covered patio out front and a small, but not overly so, lawn. On the patio were two rocking chairs, a table in between them, and a small potted tomato plant by the door, the same one that Antonio had been holding earlier.
The plant itself was shrivelled up and dying, despite the gentle care that it had been receiving from Antonio, who had had the plant for as long as he could remember. Basically since he was born due to the seed having been planted the precise moment that he had taken his first breath of air on February 12th 1990. His Grandma had done the planting, and then given it to him as a gift when he was old enough for it. He loved the warmth that she had provided him. That was the time when the tomato plant thrived, when Antonio was young, blissfully unaware of the struggles of life, but that time is over and dead.
The two walk through the old wood door and into the messy living room. "I'm sorry, my parents are never home so I've let it become a bit of a mess, please make yourself comfortable," Antonio says as he moves into the kitchen to prepare a pot of tea. He returns with the tea (which was a generic mint), and sets it on the coffee table.
"Lovino, uh, as I mentioned my parents are kind of away a lot. Almost always, actually so you're free to stay whenever you like. A-and if they ever do come home or something while you're here, there's a window in my room, right above my bed. It's good for escaping and all," Antonio stutters, trying his very hardest not to sound like an awkward nincompoop.
Antonio knew how dangerous this was. This whole thing. It could kill him, if they ever found out. He knows, and yet he can't help himself. He just had to. Perhaps it was because this was one of very few chances to connect with someone like him, perhaps it was the fact that Lovino was quite frankly intriguing, or perhaps something else. It is likely a combination of those things that makes it worth it. Or, he hopes it was worth it. He really, really did because if it isn't... he doesn't want to think about it.
Lovino nods, completely unaware of the danger that Antonio had put himself in. How could he ever guess without Antonio telling him? Antonio gives Lovino a tiny smile, and a small 'thank-you'. Lovino feels warm and soft, and the area where his heart should be feels so full it almost hurts. He recognizes the feeling instantly. It's the feeling he always gets after Antonio smiles. He missed it.
"So, would you like the first shower?" Antonio asks.
Lovino shakes his head, "No, you-a can have it." Antonio nods, and wanders off towards the shower. Lovino sits down with his back against the wall. He takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. He needs to think. Maybe he could figure out why Antonio's so shattered. So broken. Like an angel who's wings have been torn off. From what he could tell, it wasn't that he had a lack of friends. Gilbert and Francis have always been there for him, he'd been told that by Antonio himself. It's not that he's bullied either, he seems more popular than bullied. Nobody dislikes him at school. He's too sunny. It has to be something at home, but what? Is it that his parents are never home? That must be it.
Despite the nagging feeling that there's something more, the persistent notion that what he said earlier has something to do with it, the tugging feeling that it's rather odd that he would have to escape through the window, he tells himself that it's his parents being gone that hurts him the most. He can sort of understand how that feels, having felt no love from his own parents. 'That-a must be it,' he tells himself. 'It-a must be'.
Just then, Antonio taps him on the shoulder and says, "You can take your shower now." Lovino nods, and scurries off to the wonderful world of scalding water and shampoo. When he finishes, Antonio hands him a spare pair of pyjamas from the doorway and scurries off to do whatever tomato bastards do as teenagers.
A minute later, Lovino is out and standing awkwardly close to Antonios face. "Uh, hi," Lovino mumbles, his face heating up from the proximity of their lips. He hadn't kissed Antonio since the morning he'd left for the Eyebrow Bastard's place... That's over fourty-eight hours! God, how he missed that sensation- no. Not right now. He can't have these thoughts right now.
The next few moments are excruciatingly awkward as Antonio backs away and tries to stumble out an apology while Lovino attempts to get his head together after their near kiss. "M-maybe we-a should just go to bed," Lovino says, once he realizes that he's not going to be able to pull himself together enough for anything else. 'Tonio nods, and leads him to the bedroom.
"You should take the bed, Lovi," the Spaniard says, smiling a bit. It was only polite, after all.
"W-what did you-a just call me?" Lovino asks, his heart pounding all the way to his eardrums. God, how he missed that stupid fucking nickname!
"L-lo siento, lo siento. I-I really didn't mean to give you a nickname like that. Still, you should take the bed," Antonio stutters, his face darkening slightly with a minuscule blush. He fidgets with his sleeves, honestly embarrassed that he had said his little nickname for Lovi aloud. Lovino snaps out of it.
"Oh hell no, you are already letting my ass stay, take-a the bed," Lovino firmly replies.
"No. You're the guest. You take it."
"NO. Take-a the Goddamn bed Antonio!"
"No!"
"CHIGIIIII! Fine," Lovino says, barely resisting the urge to tag on the custom 'bastard' or perhaps 'idiot'. Barely. So he clambers into the stupid bed and pulls the fucking covers over his head and yells a halfway aggravated 'goodnight' in Antonio's general direction. Antonio chuckles and curls up on the floor. No way was he sleeping in any place but his own bedroom, not with his parents. It wasn't safe.