A/N: I'm so sorry for the unexpected haitus. My beta/rp friend was out of town, and without notice. And then we've had a big fight. So, this is not written with her input. So no accents. But hey, longer than usual chapter and fluff to make up for it is good, yes?
The morning comes with the same dreaded empty feeling that it always did when his parents had been home the night before. The alarm screaming in his ears like something out of a horror film, the blankets heavy and warm and the outside so cold. He moves like his limbs are made of lead, his arms stinging fiercely. "Ow," he mumbles, dully. He's used to it, yes, but that doesn't mean the fresh lines on his arms don't hurt at all.
At last he reaches the stupid alarm clock and silences it with a single hit from his hand. More rustling from the blankets as he finally reveals himself to the cold, cruel air. He rubs his eyes and yawns as he sits up. He vaguely wonders if his parents will be downstairs when he goes, or if they're gone again. He hopes the second, desperately.
After another ten minutes of just sitting there, empty gazed, he finally moves from his bed and towards the one thing that motivates him to do anything any more. Coffee. The glorious black liquid has already been made and is half empty, meaning his parents were here, but are now gone. The note on the table only confirms that.
'Antonio,
We had another business trip. We'll be gone one week. Don't burn the house down.'
No 'I love you' at the bottom, no 'stay safe', those three sentences. He sighs, and lets a single tear slip down his cheek. 'No use crying', he reminds himself, gently, 'they haven't left anything kind since you were young.'
He pulls himself together, and pours himself a cup of the glorious black liquid. He adds a splash of milk and a spoonful of sugar to it, in order to ward away the bitterness. 'The cream and sugar is Lovino, and the coffee is my life. Without him it's so black, bitter, so dark and lonely. With him here, the entire world lightens up, and suddenly life seems sweet,' Antonio thinks, before idly noting that he should lay off the stupid philosophical thoughts, especially at six o'clock in the morning.
He decides to have a tomato for breakfast, seeing as the little red ball of perfect was just what he needs to lighten up his morning. That little thing was perfect in all of it's juicy, flavourful glory. A glance at the clock informs him it's now six thirty, and he needs to get his ass in gear.
By six forty, he's walking in the direction of the school in a daze. He probably would've walked the whole way in such a state, if Lovino wasn't approaching rapidly. "'Tonio! Hey, Antonio wait for me!"
"Oh, Lovino, hey," Antonio says, coming out of his thoughts. He offers up a small smile at the Italian, his hand raising in a miniature wave. The Italian nearly sighs in relief at the smile, but manages to maintain a steady expression.
"How're you today, 'Tonio?" Lovino asks, gently. Antonio merely shrugs, still halfway lost in his thoughts. Lovino's brow furrows in concern, knowing somehow that something was off. Perhaps it was the many times he himself had done the same thing? Ah, what does it matter. He needs to reassure Antonio, and so he gently reaches out his hand to grasp Antonio's in a manner he hopes is comforting.
Antonio blinks and looks at him. "Lovino?" he asks, barely daring to breath. 'Is he holding my hand? Of course he is! But what does it mean? Does he like me? Wait, why would I care if he did? I don't have a crush on him, do I? Of course not, I've never really had a real crush before. Sure I've thought some guys were awful cute, but never a crush. Well, okay there was that one crush I had on Gilbert for a while, but I hardly think that counts. I can't really have a crush now, can I? Especially not on someone like Lovino. He's more to me than a mere crush, isn't he? And I don't think this is love that I'm feeling, or is it? This weird feeling of safety whenever he's near, that distinct feeling of releif seeing his face... that's just because he knows that I'm, well, different and accepts it, right?'
"I thought you looked kinda down, so I wanted to comfort you," Lovino grumbles, his face heating up cutely. Just like a tomato.
"You could tell?" Antonio asks, almost hitting himself for his stupidity. 'Yeah, just admit pretty much aloud that you have mental issues, way to go Antonio you dumbass!'
The look on Lovino's face nearly breaks Antonio's heart, as his eyes are so full of not pity, not fear or anger, but of understanding, of concern and kindness, and perhaps a hint of affection. He can see, reflected in those beautiful brown orbs, among the green flecks, there he swears he can see someone just as broken and lonely, someone who truly understands.
"Lovino, I need you to let go of my hand, we're almost there. I can't risk you getting bullied," Antonio whispers, the moment shattering like an elegant wine glass on the floor. Lovino nods, and lets him go. The last five minutes are painfully awkward, both men with burning questions on the tips of their tongues and yet neither ask them.
After the cold hell that is considered 'school' is over, the two are walking home, just enjoying each other's company when Antonio realizes it. 'I love him.' That single, dangerous thought causes him to freeze entirely in his tracks. His face grows pale, and Lovino worries he's going to faint, until, just as suddenly as the panic came, it fades and Antonio walks on as if nothing had happened.
"And that," Antonio says, finishing his previous story, "Is why Francis is never allowed to have mayonnaise." Lovino looks about ready to facepalm or laugh. Maybe even both. But he doesn't, he just shakes his head as they reach Antonio's house.
"Do you want a snack?" Antonio asks Lovino, tossing his own bag at the couch. Lovino nods, so he wanders into the kitchen to grab a couple tomatoes and returns, grinning easily. Just like the Antonio that Lovino was familiar with, just like the Antonio that he loves. He catches the tomato tossed at him with perfect ease, and settles down at the coffee table with his maths homework out.
"Just so we're clear, I hate mathematics," Lovino groans. Antonio chuckles and sits next to him, pulling out his equally hated English homework.
"You help me, and I help you? You're way better at English than I am," Antonio offers gently. Lovino easily accepts, and they get to work. By the time they're finished, their faces are right next to each other's, cheeks almost touching. Their legs are resting easily on top of the other's, and their hands are brushing.
Antonio's heart is pounding in his head, chasing out any and all logical thought. He gently lifts up Lovino's chin so that they can gaze into each other's eyes. And then, ever so slightly he leans forward and-
"Dammit Antonio, you fell asleep on your English essay again!" Lovino is shouting in his ear, waking him back up. He groans, and rubs his eyes tiredly. At least he got the essay done just before he fell asleep this time, right? Or was that just a dream. He lifts up his head and gazes at the paper. Yeah, it's finished alright. So when exactly did he pass out? All well, he'd sort that out later, but first...
"I'll make some dinner, okay?" Antonio offers, and Lovino nods. 'Damn, looks like all those nights of bad sleep are catching up with me,' Antonio thinks to himself.