Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: Switching back to Lovino's point of view now. I hope you don't mind the constant perspective-switching!

A/n2: Soooo… the Netherlands got second place in Eurovision. That was… wow. That was way better than I had ever expected! I now feel a bit ashamed for nagging that the song was no good. However, I won't be a hypocrite and say that I secretly always liked the song, because I still don't think the song was that epic.
They did sing very nicely, though, and I'm really happy my country finally managed to do well in this silly contest. Good job, Ilse and Waylon! ^^

A/n3: I probablywon't upload a chapter next week, because of my friend's wedding on Friday. Yes, I know I could just do an early update on Thursday morning (I'm staying over at my friend's place together with another friend, to have our – *add dramatic music here* – last "girls-only" sleepover party, so I can't update on Friday morning either), or I could try to post an update on Saturday morning anyway, but I think I'll be way too dead tired to post anything, really…
So yeah. I'm not sure. Maybe I'll update next week, maybe I won't. We'll see, okay?

A/n4: I didn't know much about Robert G. Ingersoll, but according to the information I read about the man, he was a pretty good guy. Not because he always defended his own opinion about religion (and his lack of faith in it), nor because he was good at the things he did and believed in.
No – the man really valued his family. He loved his wife and children and knew that nothing was more important than cherish these very special being in his life.
I mean, just read this quote of his and try to remind yourself that he lived in the 19th century, when children weren't seen as vulnerable creatures. He was friggin' awesome.

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 50:

If any one of you ever expects to whip your children again, I want you to have a photograph taken of yourself when you are in the act, with your face red with vulgar anger, and the face of the little child, with eyes swimming in tears and the little chin dimpled with fear, like a piece of water struck by a sudden cold wind.
Have the picture taken.
Robert G. Ingersoll
(American lawyer, Civil War veteran and political leader)

'So Lovi, what has happened to Feli?'

Antonio looked at me questioningly, as he put our kids in the box part of the freight bicycle.

I checked one last time if we had everything we had brought with us, before swinging one of our rucksacks – that all seemed to almost explode with all the shit that has been stuffed inside of them, even though we were taking the exact same amount of junk back home, I mean, what the fuck was that about – on my back.

'It's… kind of a strange story.' I took the frame of the freight bicycle over from Antonio, since it was my turn to ride with this complicated thing now, and waited for him to step on his bike as well. 'And it all started shortly before America suddenly showed up at the potato-muncher's House.'

'Right…' Antonio nodded. 'America did tell me he had visited Germany.'

'Uncly Luddy's very buffy!' Matteo very seriously told Alejo, while cradling Mia.

'Ow!' Alejo replied when Mia collided with his arm, and gave his brother a firm push. 'Stupid dork, with your stupid plant! Ouch – it pricked me again!'

'Tha's 'cause Mia loves me,' Matteo commented, smiling down at his cactus emotionally. 'She pwoteks me!'

'No way, really?' Alejo said, staring at the plant with amazed eyes and a bleeding hand. 'It doesn't want me to slap you. Whoa. That's soooooooo awesome!'

'You're both idiots,' Luisa dryly said.

Antonio grinned. 'Not so grumpy, Lulu! It's not nice to say mean things about your brothers. And watch out with Mia, Teo – Alejo's bleeding all over the place. Oh. Oh. L-Lovi, maybe we should stop for a minute…'

I smiled, nodded and watched Antonio patch up Alejo's hand, with this epically worried expression, while Alejo didn't give a fuck about the pain anyway, looked up at his Spanish dad in admiration and rattled on about how cool a cacti plant-weapon was, and that he was going to ask one for Christmas.

Then I glanced over to Luisa, who was now sternly telling Matteo he should take her hat to shield Mia from the burning Spanish sun ('It's not good for her skin, y'know') and Matteo listened, patting Mia earnestly, as if he tried to comfort her ('Owie – Papa Toni, um, I wanna have a bond-aid, two').

I leaned on the steer of the bicycle and chuckled as Antonio now had to take care of Matteo as well. I knew he doubted himself and his qualities as a papa sometimes, but whenever I saw him like this, acting all panicky ('Teo! When did you start bleeding?') and trying hard to help his kids – or trying to convince Luisa to go to sleep – I couldn't see him as anything else than a very good father.

But then again, I think that most people, regardless of gender, race or whatever, try to give it their all when they get children. I could do it, after all. Antonio could do it. Germany and Feliciano could do it, too. I was convinced they could.

…

'He ran off with Mimi,' I suddenly said, as Antonio studied both Matteo and Alejo's wounds one last time.

He looked up in shock. 'Feli… ran off?'

I nodded and flicked the bell of the freight bicycle. 'According to Germany, Feliciano has been acting strange for a week or two. He didn't want to talk about it to Germany and pretended to act as foolishly and moronic as always, but Germany – and I don't like to admit this – knows Feliciano better than anybody, so he knew something was eating him. Feliciano didn't want Mimi to go outside anymore and he practically started locking her up in the House, using all kinds of stupid excuses. Germany told me over the phone that he got fed up with it and was planning to confront Feliciano about his weird behavior, but then America all of a sudden showed up and told him and Feliciano about all the things he had found out concerning the PPSS.'

'And… how did that go?' Antonio asked, getting back up on his bicycle.

I snorted. 'Not so fucking good, Antonio – Germany told me he basically watched Feli's smile fell in, although he still managed to happily tell America about his own theory about the PPSS organization. Germany said he felt like his heart attempted to turn to stone when my stupid brother cheerily told America he was scared strangers would come and try to kidnap Mimi away from them. His theory was that the kids are human, and will be taken away from us, for wicked reasons. He's afraid they will get experimented on.'

Antonio was speechless and stared at me in horror.

I swallowed a lump and nodded. 'Yeah, that was… that was pretty nasty. I can imagine Germany internally flipping the shit out after hearing this. Not only because Feliciano had thought of such a disturbing theory, but also because he had been walking with these kind of upsetting thoughts for weeks.'

Antonio and I started to cycle again. The kids thankfully were loud and way too busy being excited about going back home to pay much attention to us, while Antonio was silent and pale.

'So Feli then decided to ran off with Mimi,' he eventually muttered.

I shook my head. 'Not right away. They listened to America's information, they gave their opinion to him about what they thought what was going to happen, they humored him for a few hours – he even stayed to grab a bite, together with five of his weird tourist friends – and only after America left, hell broke loose, or so Germany said.'

'How that so?'

'Germany confronted Feliciano about everything he had told America. He told him that he was very worried about him and that he should have told him about his anxious feelings earlier. Germany even promised Feliciano that nothing bad would happen to Mimi, to their little family – but it seemed like he couldn't reach Feliciano anymore. He looked at Germany, but he looked right through him. He was crying and stammering all kinds of terrible "what if" sentences without blinking and Mimi, who saw all of this, stood there, nailed to the ground, scared shitless because of all the things her "mutti" was saying all of a sudden.'

'That's awful.' Antonio pursed his lips. 'That's just awful.'

'Germany did the best he could to reassure both Feliciano and Mimi that everything was going to be alright, that they just needed a good night of sleep, the three of them together, and then – then everything would look a bit brighter again, or so he told them. He felt like the only sane person right then, and it was horrible. He had kind of expected Feliciano to do something stupid – he knows him, after all – but he had never suspected Feliciano would flee with their daughter during the night.'

Antonio groaned and lowered his head.

'He…' I licked my lips, '…he left Germany a note. He wrote that Germany was a good, wonderful man and that he loved him with his whole heart, but he also wrote that Germany "just didn't understand". So he ran off. According to Germany, he did leave some sort of hint of to where he fled to – a few very sloppily-written Italian scrabbles at the bottom of the note – but he claimed he couldn't make anything out of it.'

'And that's why he came to Spain – to consult you,' Antonio realized. 'You'd know what Feliciano wrote, after all.'

'Yeah, I guess… I think it's weird Germany needs me to translate that part of the note, though. He might be a wiener-loving bastard, but he's no dumbass. I'd always thought he'd at least know some basic Italian. He kind of disappoints me by needing my help.'

Antonio tried to reason with me, to take some of my confusion away. 'But Lovi, if that's not it, why else would he want to meet up with us? He's not exactly our best friend.'

I shrugged. 'I have no idea. We'll find out really soon, though.'

\0o0/

While we were on the road, the weather got increasingly worse, I noticed.

We had barely left the inner city of Madrid, or dark clouds started to form and pack themselves together en masse,, right above our heads. While Alejo thought it was cool, Luisa didn't like the sight of it at all and Matteo even thought that there was a monster being born, up there in the sky, ready to attack us whenever its body had gotten dangerously black-purplish enough to its liking.

'Don't be so silly,' Antonio tried to comfort our specs-wearing son, 'it's probably only going to storm a bit. That's nothing to worry about! It's just going to be a bit wet and windy, that's all.'

'But I dun't wanna be wet and windy…' Matteo lamented, his head thrown in his neck as he stared at the sinister sky. 'I wanna go home…'

'We are going home,' I impatiently said, panting a little because damn, it sure wasn't easy to ride a cycle with this much twerps in its box-part.

'Papa?' Luisa looked at me worriedly. 'Tell a story.'

She might as well could have asked me to drop and give her fifty, dammit – I was too occupied with putting all of my energy into cycling back home to be able to tell her anything, let alone an entire story.

I had to give her a sad (but mostly tired) smile. 'I-I'm sorry, baby – Papa Lovi's… too busy to tell you a story…'

Luisa frowned, instantly, I could only helplessly watch her face fumble and fold in protest, but she didn't nag. Nope – she just turned her back on me and started to ignore me.

'Stupid dork,' I heard her mutter one last time.

'Why… why are kids so damn unreasonable…' I grumpily (but again mostly tiredly) asked Antonio, who cycled right next to me.

Antonio looked back with a concerned look in his eyes. 'You want to switch? You could tell them a story if you'd ride on this bike, right?'

'No.'

'I don't mind it!' Antonio smiled friendly at me. 'Just pull over – we'll switch bikes and you'll—'

'I said NO, Antonio!' In spite of my exhaustion, I managed to glare and growl angrily at him. 'I'm tired, okay? I'm tired of cycling and I'm tired of always obediently doing whatever the crap Luisa wants. She's… she's not a fucking queen! She's just a kid, and she should learn she can't always have it her way, dammit! That's just how this world works, dammit!'

'Lovi…' Antonio mumbled, shaking his head. And at the same time, I noticed Luisa pulled up her knees and pressed her chubby face against them.

But I was being very serious here. I couldn't… you just couldn't expect me to always act like the nice daddy that shakes stories out of his sleeve like it's nothing, dammit! I'm just… I'm just a person, trying to get it all straight for himself! God, I'd love it if kids were capable enough to, for once, try and place themselves in my shoes for a change! Why should I always place myself in their shoes? How'd they think I felt, right now?

'My brother's missing,' I softly murmured and squeezed the bicycle's steer. 'My stupid, lame-ass, good-for-nothing, worthless brother is missing, just because he got some crazy, paranoid ideas, and she's expecting me to tell her a story. My younger brother's gone, and she's saying I should—'

'Ah,' Antonio simply said.

'What "ah"?' I grumbled.

'So that's why you're acting like a mean bastard: you've only came to realize Feli's really gone missing now. That's slow – not to mention pitiful.'

I shot hateful looks at him. 'So what? Just shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear that kind crap from you. You haven't seen your brother in fucking years. How's that for pitiful?'

Antonio got mad. 'Oh, are we going to play it that way? You really want to play it that way?'

'Well maybe I do.'

'Well maybe you should shut up about things you don't know anything about.'

'Well maybe you should shut the fucking fuck up. Like you know everything.'

'I know enough about you and Feli.'

'You know shit!'

'At least I know that Feli would never have lashed out his frustration on his family.

'Shut up!'

'I mean, Feli would—'

'CHRIST, WHY DON'T YOU JUST MARRY YOUR FUCKING "FELI" ALREADY!'

A short, loaded, awful silence. You could only hear the approaching storm rumbling.

'Oh god, Lovino... seriously?' Antonio finally said, giving me a look that bordered on disgust. 'Still feeling that way? Even after all this time?'

I glared back at him as hard as I could, but I'll admit that on the inside, I felt very much ashamed right then. I couldn't even think of anything to say.

Antonio closed his eyes and sighed. 'Alright, there we go again – Lovi, for God's sake, I DON'T WANT TO MARRY FUCKING FELI, I DON'T LOVE FUCKING FELI – I LOVE YOU!'

I instinctively flinched. 'I-I know…'

'Really? Do you know? Do you, Lovino? Do you really, really know? Because I think you might need a century or six more before you finally realize that I'd rather die right here, right now, than pick your brother over you!'

'I know,' I muttered again.

'You think I could actually live with him? He's everything you're not, Lovino! How could I love everything that's not you?'

'I…'

'And I don't care about your stupid, insensitive worrying, I don't give a crap about all of that, because you should know I love you, you goddamn moron! You, and everything that's part of you! No matter what!'

'I…' I grinded my teeth together. 'I-I know, alright… I know.'

'Do you?'

'Yes, I do, dammit.'

'And…?'

'I'm sorry.'

'Don't tell me you're sorry – tell them!'

Antonio – still wheezing and panting because of his snarling at me – pointed at the three kids in the box part of the freight bicycle. Three pair of eyes stared at me, but thankfully, fucking thankfully, they didn't looked at me as shocked as they had done a couple of weeks ago, when Antonio and I had that other fight.

'I-I'm sorry…' I muttered, biting my upper lip this time to force back my tears, '…I'm so sorry, kiddo's… Sorry for yelling at you.'

'And Papa Toni,' Alejo smartly pointed out.

That cunning jackass got what he deserved, dammit – I wanted to say, but I didn't, because I actually was very sorry.

But I didn't need to tell Antonio I was sorry.

'I know he's sorry,' Antonio disturbingly nicely told Alejo while avoiding to look at me, 'but he crossed the line, you know? He went too far.'

'Y-you… don't go away, are ya?' Matteo (very wrongfully) gasped and clasped his mouth.

Antonio shook his head. 'Of course not – I'm just angry with him.'

'Me too,' Luisa chimed in. 'Papa Lovi's mean. Right, Papa Toni?'

If had been in Antonio's position, if he had hurt me with a thoughtless remark, I'd fucking team up against him with all of my kids within a heartbeat.

But of course, Antonio wouldn't, and he didn't.

'He's not mean, he's scared.' Antonio's voice got quieter. 'People say stupid, dumb and mean things when they're scared.'

'Oh,' Luisa said – obviously disappointed that Antonio didn't join her temporary, evil little Anti Papa Lovi Club.

I didn't say a word – I just tried to concentrate on the road.

'Papa Lovi's scared?' Alejo asked.

'Uncle Feli's missing,' Antonio explained.

'Did uncly Luddy lost him?'

'Um… yeah, kind of?'

'So what?' Alejo shrugged. 'Why'd be Papa Lovi scared 'cause of that?'

'Well… don't you know that uncle Feli is Papa Lovi's little brother?'

'Wha!' Matteo gasped, again.

'I didn't know!' Alejo exclaimed, bewilderedly. 'So it's like… it's like the same if I'd lose Teo, right?'

'Probably.'

'But that's bad! That's very, very bad!'

'Veddy bad!'

'Yes, it's—'

'And you yelled at him!'

'Yebbed at im!'

'That's mean!'

'H-huh?' I stammered.

Antonio was a bit taken aback. 'B-but I only yelled because—'

'No!' Luisa butted in as well now. 'He misses uncle Feli! And you shout at him! That's not right! Say you're sorry!'

'But—'

'HE said he's sorry, now YOU tell him!'

For a second, I swore Antonio was going to… I don't know, just cycle on, ignoring us all. I don't know why – but it was only a second-worth of thought, so it probably was just another stupid fragment of my own stupid insecurity.

And yes, as usual, I should have known better.

'I'm sorry.' Antonio sighed shakily as he looked at me. 'She's right. I should apologize as well. You did lose your brother, and I'm… I'm sorry for yelling at you. I… just lost my temper.'

'Yeah,' I sheepishly replied.

'Can you forgive me?'

'That depends: can you forgive me?'

Antonio seemed surprised, for a moment, before smiling somewhat at me.

'Sneaky move, Lovi.'

'I didn't ask you to tell me that,' I replied. My voice sounded pretty steady, but let me tell you that I felt pretty damn nervous. I was fully aware of the fact I had said things that I shouldn't be saying – that I shouldn't even be thinking, really.

'Alright,' Antonio then said, 'in that case, I guess I'll forgive you.'

'Yeah?' I scowled at him. 'So… you're not angry at me anymore?'

'I'm not.' Antonio's smile brightened a little more – but only a little. 'You said stupid things, I said stupid things… I guess we're even now. Okay?'

'O-okay.' I muttered, but I vaguely wondered if it really was okay.

'So!' Luisa in the meantime piped up, nodding as if she had seen something very satisfying. 'You're not angry anymore, Papa Toni?'

'Nope,' Antonio promised.

'Papa Lovi?' Luisa gave me a piercing look. 'And you?'

'I'm not angry anymore either,' I decidedly said.

Luisa grinned a bit. 'Good! Now you're not angry anymore, tell us a story.'

Matteo and Alejo started grinning as well and I could swear I saw the three of them exchanging victorious looks.

…

…

Tricky little bastards were going to kill my poor nerves one day, dammit.

\0o0/

"Fortunately" for me, rain aggressively started pouring out of the sky mere seconds later – so I didn't have time to tell the kids a story. Nope, I had to peddle around in the storm as fast as I could, fighting against the weather gods, consoling Matteo (who really turned out to be scared to death of thunder and lightning), shouting at Luisa things were going to be okay and nagging at Alejo that he was going straight to fucking bed if he didn't stop worshipping the clouds.

'But Lovino,' I faintly heard Antonio's voice in the howling wind, 'it's not like you believe in god-worshipping, do you?'

I snorted. 'Well no, but you can never be too sure – I didn't believe in having kids one day either, and look at us now.'

'Oh – good point!'

'Yeah, I kno—ALEJO, for the LAST FUCKING TIME, bow like that AGAIN and I SWEAR I'll fucking TOAST YOU!'

Alejo looked over his shoulder, pouting. 'But papa, He's talking to me!'

'IT doesn't talk to you – IT's trying to flush us away! You'd like that to happen?'

'No – that's why I'm praying. Don't worry, papa. I'll save us. I'll just sacerefize my very cool backpack! To SAVE us!'

'Yeah, that's… well, thanks, I guess.'

'Oh, maybe I should give Him Matteo, too.'

'GAH!' Matteo cried out.

'That's what ya get for hurting my hand,' Alejo darkly said, and cackled weirdly while Matteo started to bow down as well, now asking the weather gods to instead take that "stinky meanie" Alejo.

'WHAHA! BWAHAHHA!' Alejo roared as an answer.

…

'Oh god, he's thinks he's some sort of Dark Lord,' I managed to mumble, while Antonio started to laugh uncontrollably and almost fell off his bicycle.

But he didn't fall off his bicycle, and neither did I, nor did we get swallowed whole by the horrible storm that was trying to end us all, so we all survived and miraculously kept on cycling, snarling and shouting till the very last minute, when we finally, finally, FINALLY saw the outlines of our House appear in the unforgiving-aggressive downpour and eventually, we literally rolled on the doorstep, completely exhausted and drained and soaking-wet.

And then, while Antonio and the kids were still trying to calm down from the hell ride, I noticed the door actually wasn't locked, or even closed.

That was… well, not good.

\0o0/

Since I'm such a protective family man that wants to defend his partner and children, even if his knees were shaking and knocking together, even if his heart pounded like it was being drilled by a power-zumba sports trainer, even if I'd much rather sprint away screaming, I sneakily crept into the House and started checking up on all the rooms.

I noticed it looked like all the rooms I hastily visited had been cleaned and dusted off and stuff like that, so it wasn't before long I faintly began to suspect who had gotten into the House.

And yes, when I entered the living room, on the very tips of my toes, I recognized the large body sitting in the couch immediately.

Germany. Totally passed out, sleeping on the couch, not even lying down. His arms were folded, his head pretty much rested on his chest and his hair was all unruly and far from neat. There were some huge beer cans on the table in front of the couch and even though it didn't exactly stink, there still was a hint of alcohol in the air.

'Oh, Germany,' Antonio fucking suddenly ninja-popped up next to me, and I jumped and had to press my hands to my mouth tightly to avoid any embarrassing shrieks from coming out, dammit.

'Y-yes, Germany,' I raspy hissed back as soon as I had shushed my nerves, 'how the fuck did he get in?'

'Front door, probably. Since it was open.'

I ignored the sarcasm in his voice and frowned. 'So we forgot to lock the door. Again.'

'Seems like it…'

'What should we do?' I muttered, rubbing the back of my head. I didn't exactly feel like waking Germany up and have a long, intense talk while shivering to death because of our dripping clothes and shit.

'We'll leave him be,' Antonio said and walked towards a cabinet to drag a big blanket out of it. 'Here, I'll cover him up, and then we'll just go to bed. You can already go help the kids if you'd like – they're waiting by the stairs. They really need to get out of their wet clothes, and so do we.'

'We're not going to talk to him?'

'Sure we are! Tomorrow morning. The poor guy's obviously dead-tired, and let's be honest, Lovi – so are we. So let's just have a good night's sleep tonight, okay?'

Antonio glanced at me hopefully.

'Y-yeah, alright,' I gave in easily, probably because one: I know he was right, and two: I still felt kind of uncomfortable. I seriously doubted he had forgiven me already.

But first things first – I should just do what he says and take care of our kids, before they'd catch a nasty cold or worse.

\0o0/

In the end, it took us a while before we finally went to bed.

Luisa, Matteo and Alejo were cold and couldn't stop trembling, those poor brats, so Antonio and I didn't have to think for too long when we decided to put them in a nice, hot bath before we'd put them to bed.

They didn't protest, nor were they very energetic or annoying – hell, Alejo fell asleep almost immediately when I pulled the sheets over his now-warm and glowing little frame, and Matteo was no exception. Luisa was the only one that didn't fall asleep right away the second her head hit the fluffy pillow, but we hadn't gotten out of their bedroom yet when I suspected her eyes had fluttered shut as well.

I guess they really were just very tired of this whole day, even though it probably wasn't eight o'clock yet. But I understood them perfectly: they had had a very busy day. Running around the playground, barely having any sleep at night, all of a sudden needing to get back home – which took us way too long, really – then a storm happened, and then Antonio and I got into a fight.

I instantly felt some sort of pang shooting through my chest when I, so abruptly, reminded myself to that stupid fight, while showering.

I didn't shower very long, though. I stepped out of the tub as soon as I felt warm again, and I groaned a bit as I got myself dressed in my… well, sleeping wear. Or at least clothes that I often wore when I went to bed. Yeah, let's put it that way.

You know, the really most nasty part of the fight was that I actually wasn't jealous at Feliciano's bond with Antonio at all anymore. I admit I had been jealous at that weird, silly relation they seem to share for years, but I'm not a goddamn moron. I know the way he looks at me and the way he looks at Feliciano are totally different.

There's… there's more love in his eyes when he looks at me. So I really thought it was a fucking weak, low-blow from me to try to make him feel guilty, just because he was telling the truth about my brother – I mean, I'm almost sure Feliciano would indeed stay much more collected and calmer if I'd disappear on him. He'd know what to do. Besides, my stupid brother was missing, and yet I still had the guts to act as if I was jealous because of the attention Antonio gave my brother.

Wow. That's so fucking… you know, it's not even childish – it's just plain immature. It's dumb. And I should be fucking ashamed for being so damn egoistical while my brother and niece were out there somewhere.

I suppose it was just the way my mind and body worked whenever I panicked, but come on… I'm happily married. I'm the father of three healthy children. I should know better by now, right?

So yeah, I was pondering and musing and making deep worry-lines in my forehead when I got out of the shower, and Antonio, who had taken a shower shortly before me in another room – one of the many pro's of living in a big-ass house – gave me a weird look when he saw me.

'Lovi? You alright?'

'I…' I hesitated and didn't know how to look at him – so I just studied the carpet on the ground instead. 'I guess.'

'Sounds like you're not alright,' Antonio simply pointed out, as he switched off the big light so that only the smaller lights of the lamps on our side tables weakly lit the room.

I didn't say anything – I slowly sat down on the bed and then just flopped myself down on my back, on the mattress, like plop. Although my body still felt restless, the ambiance in the room was good. It was nice and friendly and comforting, so I automatically relaxed some more.

I felt the mattress sink in a bit from the other side, and I blushed lightly when Antonio's upside-down face appeared above me.

'Hi,' I muttered.

'Hi.' Antonio gently smiled down on me. 'Sweetie, this is no use. You'll get cold if you're planning to sleep like this.'

'I'm not planning to sleep like this.'

'Ah. So you're just randomly lying around.'

'Yes.' I huffed and wanted to look away, but Antonio had collected my head in his hands and I couldn't move.

'Your hair's still wet.' He softly caressed my head, stroking some strands of hair from my damp forehead. 'You should have dried off your hair a bit better.'

'I forgot.'

'I'll do it for you.'

'You will?'

Antonio nodded. 'Sure – just sit up, if you like.'

I silently complied and got up, moving and turning until I sat in front of him, on my knees, feeling very drowsy and very guilty at the same time.

'Lovi, my love…' Antonio chuckled as he took the towel around my shoulders and started rubbing my head with it. '…hey, stop punishing yourself like that, okay?'

'I said stupid things,' I choked out, lowering my head. 'I'm so sorry.'

'I know you are. It's okay – I already told you it's okay, didn't I?'

'But did you mean that? Or did you just… say that.'

'Of course I didn't just say that – I meant every word. Really. I don't lie about that.' He squeezed the towel tighter between his hands – I could feel it. 'Not to you.'

'Okay.' I closed my eyes and sighed, finally feeling that lovely feeling of relief washing over me.

Antonio stopped drying my hair and flung the towel around my neck, while holding the ends. Then he gave it a soft tug and greeted my lips with a few equally soft kisses.

'You've had a rough day, my love…' he mumbled against my lips. 'Why don't you get some sleep, hm? You're probably going to have a very hectic day tomorrow…'

'Y-yeah…' I breathed out unsteadily when he distanced his face from me. 'You're right.'

'Alright then.' Antonio smiled, flunked away the towel and clumsily dragged me over to the upper part of the bed. He even tucked me in, dammit, and he did it with such a concentrated look on his sweet face that I just had to snicker.

'You're a dork,' I muttered as he switched the lamps out and slipped underneath the sheets as well.

'You're a pretty huge dork as well, Lovi, if I may say so.' He wrapped his arms around my upper body and pulled me close, until our foreheads touched.

'You may say so.' I smiled and grasped the fabric of his shirt. 'Only you.'

'Oh – lucky me!'

'Hm-hm…'

'Good night, sweetie…'

'Hmm… I love you, too…'