Hello, back with another chapter ^^
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Chapter II: Nightfall
A few sullen days of rain had passed. The sun's warmth was fading as it descended lower into the sky. Lovino was sat atop of a large stone overlooking a pond behind his cottage. A dragonfly hummed past him, delving into the tall grass of the meadow that lay behind him. Purples, pinks, and oranges filled the evening sky, a few gray clouds scattered here and there. The crescent moon concealed itself beneath a rolling cloud as the sun fell deeper into the horizon, the scent of wet earth filling Lovino's nostrils.
Lovino flicked his tongue across his bottom lip as he concentrated on the canvas, a steady hand holding a brush stained a deep violet. His wrist rolled, guiding the purple to blend with pink seamlessly. He took a moment to lean back, his eyes scanning the painting. With a small frown he averted his eyes from the canvas, unhappy with its progression. A hand reached down to rinse the paint from the brush, he wasn't sure how to continue the painting as the sun had almost completely set. He had been working on the piece for quite some time now. He stretched his arms up towards the sky after retiring the brush to a small brown satchel, his head lolling back, a sigh following suit. The silver cross he wore across his neck swung playfully with every movement. His eyes fluttered open slowly after a moment, his arms dropping to his sides. As his hand met stone his eyes were focusing on a tall oak tree just beyond the meadow. The trees were shrouded in the dark of the night, leaves rustling in the wind. He froze for a moment, his mouth agape.
He could not see much behind him, the light of the day had almost completely given itself away to the dark of the night. However he was certain there was something perched on top of the oak. Squinting his eyes, the olive skinned man watched as the figure stirred. The Italian brought his hands to his eyes and rubbed them harshly. Hazel orbs snapped open and once again examined the branch the silhouette had been resting on.
"..." Nothing. Nothing was there.
Not wanting to find out what was lurking outside with him, Lovino messily gathered stained tubes of oil paints and stuffed them into the satchel before sliding the satchel across his shoulder. He fumbled for a moment with the easel and canvas, clutching them uncomfortably to say the least. Making sure to not smudge the wet paint, he held the canvas out in front of him, scurrying awkwardly to the cottage.
Once inside, Lovino placed the easel back into the corner, the unfinished painting nestled against it. He tended to the latch on the front door, locking it tight. He grabbed a crushed box from his satchel, striking a match to life. He lit the candles in his room, the warmth of the flames comforting and inviting. A sigh of relief escaped Lovino, he felt at ease inside of his room.
The Italian man placed the satchel adjacent to the desk, hearing a 'thump' as the articles inside settled. Nimble fingers traced along the leather bound book endearingly. Painting seemed daunting to him, but his brother had always encouraged him to work proactively at it. A minuscule smile graced his lips. He really missed his brother.
With a shake of his head he extended a hand to grasp the sketchbook. The Archangel Gabriel was carved intricately onto the cover, a snicker left Lovino's mouth. Feliciano had pestered him about procrastinating with his paintings, now he had about a dozen unfinished canvases scattered across his room.
"So much for helping to motivate me." He mused, a finger brushing over the indents that made up the face of the Archangel. His heart ached for a moment. He ignored it and retreated to his bed, legs crossing over one another.
Drawing, however, seemed to come naturally to him. Another smile dared to tug at his lips as he flipped through the pages. A blank slate appeared about half way through the book, Lovino grabbed a pencil from his bedside table. Balancing the pencil between his thumb and forefinger he began to sketch, his mind drifting off somewhere familiar.
The pencil moved expertly between his fingers, teasing the paper with gentle pressure. Lovino's tongue had darted out of his mouth as he once again became consumed with his piece. Stride after stride the portrait came to life, radiating with joy. About half an hour passed, Lovino's breathing and the pencil against the paper the only noises to be heard.
Tap, tap, tap.
Graphite hugged the page tenderly, Lovino set the pencil down and used his index finger to blend out the rough edges.
"Missing something.." he murmured, his hand habitually resting against his cheek. Graphite transferred from his finger to his cheek, though Lovino had not noticed it. He perked up all of a sudden, eyes observing his bedside table. A white pencil lay beside a box of pastels and scattered pieces of charcoal. As he reached out to retrieve it, he heard something lightly tapping the glass of his window.
Tap, tap, tap.
Lovino flipped around, the graphite pencil rolling off of the leather bound book and onto the soft bed. Flashes of emerald irises and luring words infiltrated his consciousness. He had almost forgotten about the strange encounter with Antonio. Almost.
A scowl crept onto the mans lips, his face twisting up in distaste. Lovino pushed himself from his bed and stomped towards the window. He swatted at the curtains, thrusting them away from the glass.
"Lovi!" chirped Antonio, his voice muffled behind the glass. The man smiled wildly, chocolate locks of untamed curls lay just past his collar bone.
"What are you doing here, bastard?" Lovino huffed, brushing a few stray hairs away from his face. "I thought I made it pretty damn clear to stay away from my window." He added, glaring daggers at the sunkissed man.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you.~" Antonio proclaimed, his hands clutching his chest dramatically. "How could I possibly stay away?" He hummed, emerald locking onto golden honey. A smirk rose to his lips as he saw the familiar flush settling on Lovino's face.
Obviously flustered the younger male unlatched the window, flinging it open. Antonio moved diligently, avoiding colliding with the pane. A breeze made its presence known, enveloping Lovino with a scent of cinnamon and wet earth. He watched as the Spanish man pulled his hair back, tying a crimson ribbon around the unseemly curls.
"How can you say such sinful things so naively?" He dared to ask, his hands rooted to the window sill. His heart pumped a bit faster, more blood rushed swiftly to his cheeks. The small hands on the window sill were supporting his body weight, his flushed face exposed to the chill of night.
A nostalgic chuckle elicited from the sunkissed mans lips. He leaned forward, a finger brushing against Lovino's cheek, alternatively smearing the graphite worse. The younger man flinched at the cool touch. His eyes scanned over Lovino, noticing the silver cross dangling from his neck.
"I once was a man devoted to his faith," he uttered, coming face to face with the Italian man. "but I soon realized there was more to life than what God had to offer me." He stated simply, pulling his hand away from Lovino's face.
Antonio could hear the Italian's heart bursting out of his chest, every pump of blood running through the mans veins reminded him of his lack of feeding. His mouth grew increasingly parched, he licked his dry lips and pushed the thoughts from his conscience.
"More to life?" The Italian drawled, clicking his tongue in slight annoyance. "The hell does that mean?" He said after a moment of silence, his head slipping back into the safety of his cozy cabin.
"It means I don't have to follow any rules, Lovi ~" Antonio purred, his arm resting against the frame of the window. 'Except for an invitation.' he thought sullenly.
"It's Lovino." The olive toned man corrected, eyes slanted at the nickname. Tanned arms crossed against his chest, a familiar frown planted on his lips.
Another gust of wind whistled through the trees, effectively causing the window to erratically sing back and forth. Antonio grabbed a hold of it, feigning a shiver running up his spine. "Would you mind continuing this conversation inside, Lovino?"
A sigh escaped the younger man as he rubbed his temple. After a moment of heavy deliberation, he picked up the leather bound book from his bed. "Whatever." He muttered in defeat, returning to his spot on the bed.
An everlasting smile spread like wildfire on the Spaniard's lips. "Thank you.~" he hummed, the imaginary line that prevented him from entry eviscerating into thin air. He crept through the window with ease, leaving behind the dark of the night.