Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: Switching back to Lovi's narration again! 8DDDDDDD *celebrates aggressively*

A/n2: Confession #4 already: I didn't watch a single World Cup match of the Netherlands this year. Nope. I just… nooooope. My poor heart can't handle the stress and the pressure and therefore, I go hide in another room and watch anime-series like Revolutionary Girl Utena (weird, but interesting anime that is, by the way).
So yeah – I didn't watch the Netherlands lose from Argentina last Wednesday either. But my brothers, who stayed awake to watch it as I sat biting my nails in that other room, at a certain moment went to bed (without informing me, those bastards) and I could hear them sing 'Yeeeeuuuuyyyy, Netherlands are the losers, olé olééééé!'
That's just their way of coping with a losing team, I guess. It's too bad we didn't make it to the finals, but I'm glad I don't have to deal with all that stress anymore.
…that's what I wanted to say, but I know the Netherlands have to play against Brazil today. You know, to decide who gets to be third. It isn't totally over yet.
Ugh. Well – back to the back room with me!~

A/n3: A few months ago, I read 'Een weeffout in onze sterren' written by somebody called John Green, and I really liked the story and the characters. The ending was sad but realistic, and I found myself wondering if I had discovered a jewel that nobody else was going to read. 'Man,' I thought, 'it's too bad that this John Green person probably is going to be forgotten in a month of five or what.'
Then, I discovered that it actually was a crazily popular story all over the world, that its English, original titel was 'The fault in our stars' and that I was a total moron for not recognizing John Green as somebody who as actually quite famous!
I even watched some of his educational clips, and it wasn't before he made a comment about Gus and Hazel that I went 'WHAT. HE WAS THE ONE WHO WROTE THAT BOOK?' and that was verrrrry strange.
So yeah, I heard they were in the Netherlands to make part of the movie, and that the Dutch people instantly thought of an informational route through Amsterdam that fans of the book are able to follow – the route that Gus and Hazel walked as they stayed in the Netherlands – and it apparently was a quite pricy route, because we Dutch are greedy, turnip-pinching tightwads. It still cracked me up, though. XDDDDDDD
I have no idea why I told you this, but I felt like sharing it. Yay!

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 58:

Without the support from religion – remember, we talked about it – no father, using only his own resources, would be able to bring up a child.
Leo Tolstoy
(Russian writer, philosopher and political thinker)

I didn't want to talk to America right now – holy shit, come on, at least let me fucking recover from both the awesome sex and acting like a huge sap right after the awesome sex first! – and kindly pushed the horn of the telephone Luisa kept up towards Antonio.

'You take it.'

Antonio made a sour face and shove it right back. 'No. No no no, no. You take it. He likes you.'

'It's fucking America – he likes everybody!'

'He likes you more than he likes me.'

'No he doesn't,' I nagged.

'Actually,' America's amused, loud voice said, 'the Spaniard is right – I like you better, Romano. Since your past and personality is less twisted and creepy. Hahahahaha!'

'Twisted and creepy pasts and personalities sure come in handy sometimes,' Antonio simply said and kindly pushed the horn into my direction.

I glared at Antonio, but gave in and snatched the thing out of Luisa's hand. 'Lovino – I mean, Romano here. Now why do you want to talk to me! Regardless of his past and personality, Antonio's still way nicer than me, you know! He won't swear and cuss at you! And I will! Douchebag!'

'Yes, and that's exactly why I'd like to talk to you! Your annoying, shrieking words filled with nastiness and hidden messages remind me of England.'

'Oh.' I paused for a moment, glancing at Antonio, who had somehow succeeded to pick his nightgown off the floor and put it back on again, without the kids noticing anything – I wonder how he pulled that off, really. I should pay more attention next time.

'We'll leave you alone for a sec,' Antonio mimicked at me, lifting Luisa off the ground and beckoning the boys with a nod if his head. Then he… very awkwardly walked away. I could hear Alejo ask him why he was walking like he had "pooped too hard".

I had to snicker, really, since it was so very strange and cute at the same time, especially when Antonio ignored his comment and casually asked him what he'd like to have for breakfast. Then the door closed behind them and I stopped snickering, sighing deeply instead.

'Wow – you sound like you had an awful night,' America's telephone-esk voice said.

I smiled weakly. 'You couldn't be more wrong.'

'Ah! In that case, you got some, didn't you?' I could almost hear his grin widening. 'Hahahahaha! Very nice! Sex is healthy and wonderfully good for you! Just like FREEDOM! Or food. I'm starving, really. I haven't eaten in a whole five seconds.'

I huffed. 'Look – spare me your weird Yank-language! Just tell me why the fuck you're calling already, America – I haven't got all day.'

He gasped. 'Oh! Right, of course! Neither have I – I still have many more nations to call, after all!'

Now he caught my interest. 'What for?'

'I did it, Romano… or rather, I FOUND it!' He was whispering for some reason. 'The headquarters of the PPSS… I totally located it with my amazing ninja spying skills! I knew that rudely observing each and every living being that's friendly and/or unfriendly with the greatest nation on Earth without telling them would pay off one day!'

My jaw dropped as I listened to him celebrating his own greatness – I think he was doing a wave, all by himself, since I heard his voice go like 'whhhhhHHHHHOOOOOAAAAAaaaaaaffffffffrrrrrrrEEEEEEDDDDDDOOOOOmmmmmm!' and you bet he was having a blast while doing so.

'Wait – so you found their organization's building?' I quickly interrupted his private party. 'You actually know where they are?'

'Yep! And I'm planning to break in and look around for some valuable information tomorrow night! They even have a laboratory, Romano – how very sick is that? Hahahahaha! They'll have all the information about the kids we've been looking for right there, I'm sure of it! And recipes for all kinds of crazy Harry Potter potions, no doubt!'

'Speaking of English characters – what did England think about that?' I asked. It's just that I could imagine the Englishman wouldn't be too happy with America's discovery.

It became uncannily silent on the other side of the line.

'Yeeeeah, about that,' America finally said. 'I kind of had a fight with him the other day again, and we're once again not… on speaking terms. Not that it's any of your business, but I basically told him that if he wasn't going to tell me what the hell the Leaders were up to, I'd go figure it out myself. "Fine, have it your way," I said, "I'll find the answer to our stressful situation by myself then, I don't need your British-ness anyway."'

He tried to joke about it, but I didn't let myself get fooled. 'He didn't take that very well, did he.'

America laughed humorlessly. 'Nope, unless panicked screaming and flinging teacups at one's face is the new, hip way of saying "good luck with that, amazing lover of mine". He warned me that I'd be sorry if I did that, that I wouldn't find anything anyway and he promised that he'd never talk to me again if I kept poking around like this.'

'And then what happened?'

'I found the location of the PPSS's main building, told him about it right away, hoping he'd be shocked, but still, I don't know, proud of me or whatever – and the I felt the amazingly heart-breaking pain of getting dumped, once again, wordlessly this time.' America chuckled. 'He just hung up on me. He sure kept his promise, huh.'

I was unsure what to say to that, so I could only come up with an empathic 'hmm-hmm' and hope he wouldn't break down in tears all of a sudden, although it wouldn't surprise me if he did.

But America, who, I must say, had balls of cold steel, had an uplifting ring in his voice again when he spoke up.

'So anyway, Romano! About tomorrow night!'

'Yes?' I said, relieved.

'I expect you and Spain to come to Brussels tomorrow night for a secret conference meeting, together with all the other European nations I'm about to call, because you'll be my witnesses as I'll bravely make my way through PPSS' headquarters! Like a HERO!'

'…wait, what?'

'You heard that right! It's going to be a live-blog, Romano!'

'What the FUCK. WHY.'

'Because I was bored – I mean, because I am America and therefore I can!' America declared.

I groaned, face-palming myself.

'Also, doing a live-blog will be a nice opportunity to talk to you European hotheads again,' America carried on.

I blinked. 'So you miss us?'

America pretended to have missed that and carried on his rattling about his live-blog plan. 'But really, Romano, how amazing is that! It's going to be so very awesome – I think I'll even send it to Hollywood if it turns out well. Which it will, naturally. So I'm going to send it to Hollywood! People will be astonished with how many academy awards one lone man can win. "We must give him EVERYTHING," they will chant, "good Lord, but that's not enough, WE MUST MAKE UP MORE ACADEMY AWARDS FOR THIS MOVIE, HOW ABOUT BEST MOMENT OF FUCKING ASSKICKING AWESOMENESS BY A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN A OVERTLY LONG FANFIC" and it will be grand.'

I listened to his gloating and laughing, and I heard his fear. I heard how absolutely terrified he sounded. No matter how much he was trying to keep his head cool and above all the others in these kind of dark moments, no matter how much he tried to prove that nothing could touch the epicness that was America – and I became awfully aware of the fact that at the end of the day, America was just another nation. Just another toy for the Leaders to play around with, or casually toss it to the side when they're fed up with it – maybe.

I believe America realized this, too – but he'd rather die than ever admit it.

So instead of putting pressure on all the painful scars and marks the American must have had by now – having no contact with England (or Johnny, since I had understood the kid stayed at England's place), diverse uncertainties about how tomorrow night would go, barely having had any form of social contact because of his spying and his insistence to help us Europeans out – I just snorted and told America he was a stupid moron for wanting to make a live-blog.

'What if people discover you?' I wanted to know. 'Maybe England's right. Maybe you shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong – for your own safety.'

America laughed out loud. 'Pssssssshhhhh, Romano, even IF I get discovered – which is impossible – what would they want to do? Hurt me? Kill me? FYI, Romano, I'm a personification of a nation, and a pretty cool one, too, so they can't do anything awful to me without facing the horrible consequences!'

I sighed and decided to just go along with… with whatever he was saying. 'Alright – we'll be there tomorrow. Same building as always?'

'Yup. Oh, and leave your kids at home! Who knows what I will… find, after all.'

I felt my insides got unreasonably cold all of a sudden. That was a really unsettling and surreal sensation – but I felt it happen, it all got icily cold and dreary.

'What… what do you expect to find, then,' I asked as calmly as I could.

'Porn, of course,' America answered, sounding like he had said something he hadn't actually wanted to say – and I'm not talking about the porn-reply. 'Kids shouldn't be there it if there's any porn coming up.'

I pressed my lips together tightly. 'That would be bad, yes.'

'So you better go find yourself a decent babysitter.'

'We'll figure something out.'

'Alright. I expect you all around half past six. And with that, I'm done talking to you!' America sounded cheerful again and I could picture him saluting the horn. 'Have a really nice day, my grumpy Italian friend!'

'Yeah – you, too. Good luck informing the rest.'

'Thanks!'

End of conversation.

\0o0/

I confusedly looked at the telephone in my hand for a sec or two.

…

…

Well.

I… guess I better get myself dressed and such, huh.

I yawned, threw the ugly horn-thing away from me – fucking creepy piece of shit – and dragged myself out of the bed. I stepped over my fluffy PJ's, reached for the wardrobe and stared at my clothes – again for a sec or two.

I actually didn't really feel like getting dressed. I felt more like staying in bed and watching crappy movies the whole day long. And I felt like having more sex, a lot more sex, but I wonder if I wanted to have sex for the sex or to make me forget about Feliciano and his crazy antics.

But I couldn't hop back into bed and call for Antonio to have some more sex with me, because 1: there were children here, 2: Antonio probably wasn't up for it, since his butt hurt and 3: I really should just man the fuck up and go downstairs as well. I mean, Antonio was working his sensitive ass off right now to take care of the kids – I couldn't just stay here and act like the fragile flower everybody thought I was, dammit.

So I sighed and put on some pants and a simple shirt. I didn't even care what kind of brand they were. Then I looked in the standing mirror.

Oh, damn. I looked like shit. My face, that is. But with America preparing himself to do something stupid for the sake of us European nations and Feliciano acting like a fucking selfish bastard in Italy, I could safely say I had enough reasons to feel and look like crap.

…

…

Fuck. M-maybe I should put on my PJ's again and go back to bed anyway…

Right at that moment, when I was this fucking close to bursting out in tears again, the door of the bedroom flung open and I heard the familiar footsteps of Antonio approaching me. It wasn't before too long I could also see him appear in the mirror, right behind me.

'Sweetie, are you coming? The kids and I were waiting for you, but since you took so long, I thought I'd better go up and check on you…'

His voice died a bit halfway and his eyes observed me worriedly. But I didn't feel like bawling when Antonio was here with me – I was way too happy he suddenly was there again, here, with me, so conflicted feelings were all over the place once more – and so, I quickly told him what America had informed me about.

'America has discovered PPSS' headquarters and he's going to break in tomorrow night, and he wants us all to come along to Brussels and watch him on his live-blog.'

'Ohh,' Antonio said, rubbing my arms and pressing a kiss against the side of my head.

'So we… we need to find a babysitter,' I carried on.

'No,' Antonio shook his head, 'we need to get you downstairs, first.'

I looked down and mumbled something not even I could hear.

'I don't care you're not hungry,' Antonio said, who apparently had heard me, 'it's not good for you to skip breakfast. Or to spend the rest of the day in the bedroom. You're this close to a depression, so please snap out of it.'

I blinked, felt my face heat up for a moment and looked over my shoulder at him.

'You… you can be surprisingly straight to the point if you want to, you know that?'

Antonio smiled and squeezed my shoulder. 'You mind?'

'Not at all.'

'Then, are you coming with me? The kids have made a surprise for us, and they're so excited, they're practically flipping tables to find out what you think about it!~'

'Yeah?' I felt the dark clouds inside of my head disappearing a little and smiled. 'Is… is it good?'

Antonio made a weird face, as if he was troubled. 'Um. Well. It's… it comes out of three good hearts, let me put it that way.'

'Oh god. Don't tell me. They burned down the garden, didn't they?'

'No no, it's not that ba—'

'They burned down the damn garden and toasted Peeping Rosita's foul-tempered cat with it. I knew this day would come. Now we have to move to another town.'

Antonio chuckled and grabbed my hand. 'Look, why don't you just come with me and see for yourself, hmm? It's not as horrible as you think – oh no, it's very cute, even! In an unorthodox way.'

'Good god, if you're using words like "unorthodox", I just know the world must be trolling on me! You're basically telling me to stay here!'

'Ah, well, in that case, how about I use words like "I love you", hmm?'

'…that…'

'Hmmmmm?~'

I blushed and looked away from him. 'T-that should make me tag along with you, yes…'

'Okay then. I love you, my sweet Lovino.'

I blubbered something likewise back and shit, why did my face have to get this shade of red, dammit – so very embarrassing, blushing out of endearment was. It just was.

'Come with me, my love.'

Gently, Antonio tugged my hand – and I found myself walking out of the bedroom before I could even decently wipe that treacherous smile off my face.

\0o0/

When Antonio and I arrived in the kitchen, I was greeted with

DIRTY

NASTY

EVIL

GROSSNESS.

Peanut-butter smeared on the cabinets, breadcrumbs all over the place, a tippled-over bottle of milk, producing a broad, white sea in the middle of the kitchen floor, a buttery trail of unclad feet trailing over the TABLE AND REFRIDGERATOR, what the actual FUCK, and there was this smelly stench of cheese and salami lingering in the air. I didn't even want to know where that smell came from.

Also, our kids were running around aimlessly, successfully making the unbelievable mess they had made even more disastrous. For example, Alejo didn't bother to clean up the heaps of red marmalade on the floor – no, he rolled around in it and then twitched his limbs dramatically, groaning out loud.

'Lulu… Teo… check this out, my blooooooood ohhhhhhh I'm dyyyyyyyyyiiiiinnnnnggggggggg…'

'Yaaah, me twoo!' Matteo said in reply, and started rubbing himself in with ketchup.

HOW WAS I EVER GOING TO GET THAT SHIT OUT OF THEIR HAIR AND BRAND-NEW CLOTHES, DAMMIT?

Then Luisa. Of all the kids, Luisa was the only one who tried to clean some shit up – which means that she was more like Antonio than I thought she was – but like I mentioned before, she only made it worse and the smudges on the tiles only got bigger – which instantly made her so much more like me again.

It was a terrible sight. It was fucking AWFUL, dammit. I just knew that this nastiness was going to follow me in my drea – my GOD, was that HONEY ON THE GODDAMN CURTAINS? No way I was ever going to get those terror-marks out of it!

'Now now,' Antonio's sugarcoated voice tried to shush me as he – with some mild force – pulled me further into the warzone that was once our flawless kitchen, 'I know this might seem… um… messy—'

'MESSY, YOU SAY.'

Antonio chuckled and pressed a finger against my eyebrows. 'Stop that, sweetie – no matter how annoyed you might be—'

'ANNOYED, YOU SAY.'

Antonio ignored my huffing. '…like I said, no matter how annoyed you might be, please keep in mind that Luisa, Alejo and Matteo did their very best to make a great breakfast table for the five of us. Look, it's right there, outside, on the terrace!'

It helped, somewhat, and I relaxed my forehead a bit more as I firstly looked at the clumsily, yet very carefully prepared table standing just outside, and then I looked at Antonio.

'They did that?'

Antonio nodded. 'Yes.'

'When?'

'While we were having… um… happy times.'

'Seriously?' I stammered. 'They made the table while we were upstairs, acting like fucking rabbits in heat?'

'Thoughtful, aren't they?' Antonio pecked me on the cheek. 'Let's have breakfast, okay? You grab Luisa, I grab the twins.'

'Alright,' I nodded and watched him making his way over the filthy floor to the boys – who were both eagerly waiting for him to pick them up.

Antonio sighed as he crouched down in front of them. 'Oh my god – just look at you two! You're soaked in… um…'

'In BLOOD, PAPA,' Alejo shrieked, way too enthusiastically for a dead person. 'Urrrgghhhhhhhh… see? See?'

'Yea I sea,' Matteo replied for Antonio, while it was dead obvious he couldn't see a fucking thing through his ketchup-covered glasses.

But Antonio laughed and used the sleeves of his night gown – still wearing that thing, huh – to clean up both Matteo's face and glasses, while talking to Alejo about his disturbingly realistic outtake on dying people.

'Why you're smiling, they're dirty and stuff,' Luisa suddenly huffed, poking a grimy finger into my face, 'yer a dork, dammit.'

I blinked, smirked at her and swiftly snatched her off the floor. She uttered a surprised 'uaaaah!' and instantly started to struggle, just like I had expected her to do, but I didn't care and hugged her as affectionately as she secretly wanted me to.

'You tried hard, didn't you? You really tried your best to make a nice table,' I asked, pretending the kick she delivered against my arm didn't hurt at all.

'Lemme go!' she nagged, turning bright-red.

'I like it.' I pressed a kiss against her bushy hair. 'Thank you, baby.'

Slowly but surely, Luisa stopped protesting and used her hands, that were desperately smacking me on the head before, to silently clench my shirt in-between her fingers.

'S-stupid.'

'Was it your idea, Luisa?'

'M-mmn.'

'I figured.' I squeezed her tiny frame a bit as I started walking.

'B-but!' Luisa stuttered as she looked up to me with her beautiful green eyes, '…T-Teo and Allie helped, too!'

I glanced at the mess around us and grimaced, although I couldn't stop smiling. 'They sure did.'

'So you… um.' Luisa fumbled with her PJ's and averted her eyes. 'You and Papa Toni like it? Like… realllllllly like it?'

I grinned 'We fucking love it, you little turd.'

Luisa giggled and shyly allowed me to give her another quick peck on the forehead. 'Ohh, you say a bad word, ohhhhhhh…!'

'Whatever – I CAN say bad words, since I'm a cool, awesome adult and you're not.'

'Turd,' Luisa whispered.

'WHAT did you say there,' I dramatically gasped, making her laugh out loud even more.

Like that, while snickering and smiling, and having another amazing chat about turds and cussing words, I took my bratty – yet adorable – daughter outside, where the rest was already hopping up and down in their chairs impatiently.

\0o0/

'So anyway, should we ask doctor Hernández?'

Antonio, who had been busy smearing butter on a toast for a very hungry Luisa, looked up from his knife and gave me a curious look.

'For what?'

I groaned, made a 'hold up a sec' –gesture and poured milk in one of the – many uneven – cups the kids had laboriously put on the table. Alejo, already having milk-marks all over his face, licked his lips as he watched the milk filling his cup. Kid was crazy about milk.

'Y'know, you get iron bones from milk,' he explained me when I asked him why the hell he was so (creepily) fascinated by it. 'So they can't snap off easily.'

'Your bones won't be… snapping off any day soon,' I told him. 'At least, I hope so.'

'Also, I get a mustchastch!' He grinned broadly and pointed at his upper lip. 'Cool, huh? Now I'm a grandpa!'

I snorted and nodded, ruffling his hair. 'Damn you twerp – I almost squirted that sacred milk of yours through my goddamn nose!'

'Language, Lovi,' Antonio smiled.

'Yea – languuauuuugggge, Papa Lovi!' Matteo huffed as he pointed a spoon at me. 'Make me a bready!'

'How about please, you midget?'

'I dun't wanna eat a pwease. I wanna eat cheeze!'

'Alright – what cheese? We have at least kinds six of them on the table right now – and I'm counting that way too old jar of pesto as well.'

Matteo blushed excitedly and clapped in his hands just as happily. 'Ohh! Yea! Cheeze wiff them seedies!'

I stared at him. 'Seedy cheese? What the fuck – what is that kind of cheese?'

Antonio helped and handed over a specific hump of cheese. 'He wants this one, the Leyden cheese, Lovi – here, see? It's got these cumin-spices in it. Teo loves them!~'

'Love-love!' Matteo celebrated by making a weird face at Luisa, who mercilessly ignored him, of course.

'Oh. Right – I knew that,' I instantly recovered as I nonchalantly started grating the cheese. 'But anyway, Antonio, as I was saying – when we're going to Brussels tomorrow, we should ask doctor Hernández to babysit the kids in the meantime.'

'Oh, you were talking about that.' Antonio stirred in his cup of coffee and frowned. 'I'm not sure… don't you think it's better if we ask, well, say, our neighbors?'

I blinked. 'You want to ask Peeping Rosita to watch our kids? My god, Antonio, you murderous asshole. I knew you weren't a fan of her, but to finish her off like that…'

'Language, my love – seriously, you're not even trying.' Nevertheless, Antonio chuckled. 'I knew you were going to say Peeping Rosita. No, Lovino, you sweet, but moronic dweeb, I didn't mean her, I meant our other neighbors. You know, the ones who are the proud parents of your favorite girl-next-door.'

I made a sour face when he reminded me of that awful miniature witch living next door. Little female kleptomaniac, always sadistically snatching our newspaper out of the mailbox, dammit – always!

'Yuck – the Sanchez family next door? You want them to look over our precious demon children?' I therefore said.

Antonio nodded, his face telling me he wasn't joking. 'Let's be honest here, Lovi – do you think it's good for our kids to barely have any contact with other kids their age?'

I moped. 'Well, no, but… we'll send them to school when they've reached the appropriate age anyway! So…'

Antonio silenced me by shaking his head. 'Sweetie, our kids need to interact with others than just the two of us. It's not healthy for them to always be around us – they need to connect with others, too! So why not ask the Sanchez family? Their girl is around Alejo and Matteo's age, and she is spunky enough to like them!'

'…are you suggesting that other kids have to be spunky to be able to like ours?'

'That, or they should be weird. Very, very weird.'

'All kids are weird.'

'Then there's nothing to worry about!~'

I rubbed my chin, watching Matteo carefully poke a picture of a cow on the milk bottle ('It'z so spotty!') and Luisa and Alejo have a discussion about the many things one could do with a tomato and a straw ('Drink the tomato! Drink it ALL UP – right through the STRAW!').

…

…

'Well, alright,' I eventually caved, sighing deeply. 'Why the hell not, I guess you could go ask them later if they can watch over the kids.'

'Okay.' Antonio beamed victoriously. 'And if they say no, we'll ask Hernández. That a good idea?'

I shrugged. 'It's fine with me, but… I just can't help but feel a bit bad about… you know. Not asking the doc. He really likes the kids, after all.'

'Maybe that's why we shouldn't ask him,' Antonio said. 'The poor guy's struggling enough already – torturing him with kids he might never get himself is pretty cruel. Especially if you're doing it out of pity.'

I flushed. 'I-I just wanted to try and be nice.'

'You don't have to try.' Antonio smiled kindly at me and placed his hand on mine. 'You are nice.'

'S-shut up,' I muttered, bashfully smiling back at him, and couldn't help but think that we – he, the kids and I – should definitely have breakfast on the terrace like this more often. It was all kind of wonderful.

…

Try to keep the food out of the sun, though.

\0o0/

After breakfast, Antonio and I cleaned up the mess – the entire mess, the dreadful, depressing and oh my goodness it just keeps expanding as I look at it –mess – while the kids played outside.

A good THREE-AND-A-HALF HOURS later, we had finally gotten rid of the last evidence that three twerp-formed tornado had blown through the kitchen, and Antonio discovered he was still skipping around in his perverted nightgown. So he decided to go take a shower.

At last. Smelly sexy bastard. I hoped he was going to fucking mount me tonight.

…

Anyway.

While Antonio got himself refreshed, I put on my sunglasses, poured myself a big glass of tomato juice and sat down in the garden, chilling and waving at the screaming kids like the badass father I was.

Also, it was pretty nice to sit and relax and try not to think about all the things that had happened over the past few days for once.

I didn't know how long I sat there, but I was enjoying myself a lot, getting all warm and fuzzy from sitting in the garden and loving every damn moment of it. But just when I wondered what took Antonio so long and whether I should take a nap or not (was it responsible, hmm, probably not, especially not now that Matteo had decided to climb up that one tree together with Mia), Antonio returned.

'Haaaahh,' he started, putting down a glass of juice as well and joining me, 'well, I fixed it, Lovino – I asked Mrs. Sanchez if they could watch over the kids tomorrow, and she said it was no problem. Her voice also reminded me of someone, but I don't know who anymore, which kind of sucks. But forget that – what in the world is Matteo doing?'

'Either hugging the tree or trying to conquer it.' I looked at Antonio. 'So you already went and asked them, huh? That explains a lot. It took you so long to get here – for a moment, I even thought you got yourself suck in the bathtub. Again.'

Antonio pouted. 'Aw, come on – do you must remind me to that… unlucky evening over and over again? It's been six months, Lovi!'

'Antonio, you're the only person I know that has ever been attacked by the shower curtain – and lose the fight, too. I'm going to remind you of that evening forever.'

'In my defense, it was a very sturdy shower curtain.'

'I'm sure it was.' The sun disappeared behind a huge cloud, so I put off my glasses to look at Antonio a bit better.

He looked right back, surprised and amused. 'What?'

'So, um… how's your butt?'

'Present.'

I chuckled. 'No, I mean – does it… um. Hurt?'

'It tingles a bit, but that's it.'

'Ah. That's good.'

'And how's your butt?'

'My butt?'

'Your butt.'

I instinctively patted my backside – I didn't even fucking think about it, I just did. 'Um, it's fine, I guess?'

'Yeah? You sure it's fine?' Antonio gave me that look again and my lower regions – hop! – instantly woke up and knew what time it was.

'It could feel better, of course…' I admitted, biting my lower lip suggestively as I drew my hand back.

Antonio growled. 'I bet it could, you horny, lip-biting tease.'

I smirked and was more than happy to make more sexual moves to rile up his hormones, but then the doorbell made its awful sound, ringing and echoing through the entire House, making me and Antonio both squeeze our legs together in shock.

'That's probably Hernández,' I needlessly said as Antonio got up.

'It doesn't matter,' Antonio said, giving me one last hot and bothered look, 'your tush's still going to get it tonight.'

'Get what?'

'The D.'

'…the…?'

'Dick. As in… mine.'

'Ah.'

'…now why did you make me say that, you knew what I meant, you mean little sadist – you're going to pay for that!'

For some reason, this stammering comment – and the cheeky, klutzy smile that accompanied it – made me chuckle and giggle and blush so much that it wasn't even funny anymore, but I didn't give a shit. Not even when doctor Hernández was already sitting at the table with us, claiming to have no idea why the hell he had come in the first place.

I knew why he had come, and so did Antonio, and I'm sure the doc himself knew as well why he had come – but he didn't name it, and I didn't ask for it, and all Antonio did was saying an apology to his smarter lookalike that he didn't mean at all.

But since I felt okay, that was okay.

\0o0/

Hernández still did some routine check-up on me ('You know, just so that I didn't come all the way from the city for nothing') and kept lingering in the garden for a few hours. We all had a pretty good time, especially when the kids came to join us as well.

But at a certain moment, when he noticed the time – and when Antonio said he should start cleaning up the dining table and put the kids to bed – he gasped that he had stayed around for way too long and that Stefano was waiting for him at a romantic little theatre somewhere in Madrid to celebrate their being together for XX years (sorry – I couldn't remember).

'Ah, but this was fun – I'm sure Stefano will understand why I'm a bit late!~' the doctor grinned happily as we lead him to the front door. 'I don't really know how to put this, but… but it's nice to spend time with you like this!'

I smiled and wanted to say something witty, but for some suffocating reason I didn't, and I quietly watched the young doctor's delighted face and carefree behavior as he chatted with Antonio about wanting to bring Stefano with him to our place the next time.

'I-I really want him to meet my friends, after all!' he grinned, a bit flushed since he sincerely meant it. 'I'll keep quiet about you being personifications, so is it okay?'

'Sure!' Antonio said right away, before I could voice out my doubts about that. 'Bring him with you next time – we'll have a nice barbeque!~'

'A barbeque!~'

'Yes, a barbeque!~'

'Ahahahaha, how adorably quaint!~'

'Ahahahaha, quaint it is!~'

'You're creeping me out.' I dryly said, watching the both of them perform their spooky twin-act. 'Please stop that.'

'Right!' the doctor smiled and nodded, grabbing his doctor-bag or whatever he called it. 'It was fun! I'm off now! Goodbye!'

'Yes, goodbye!' Antonio also said, and the both of us waved as he clumsily made his way to his car, only closing the front door when his car had driven off our property.

'You heard that?' Antonio excitedly told me as we made our way back to the living room – where Luisa, Alejo and Matteo probably were half-sleeping and half-watching shows that weren't appropriate for their age at all.

'He sees us as his friends, Lovi! We made a friend!~'

'Yes,' I said.

'I didn't notice! And it's my future doctor, even!'

'Yes.'

'You're… not happy with that?' Antonio looked at me concernedly.

I eased his mind by smiling back at him and grabbing his arm.

'Of course I am. It's just… he's…'

'I know,' Antonio replied.

'And we're not…'

'Yes. Well, not yet.'

'So he'll eventually…'

'So will we, won't we?'

I looked at his bright, optimistic green eyes, thought about what he had said for a little while, and chuckled.

'You really love that theory of mine, don't you…'

He shrugged. 'It's not like that – not exactly. It's more like… every day, I'm starting to understand your theory a little bit better. I'm accepting it more and more – all of it. That's all, really.'

'Understanding and accepting all of something sounds a lot like love to me, Antonio.'

He sighed, but admitted defeat, smiled at me and pulled me closer. 'Fine, in that case, I love your theory!'

'There you go – now, that wasn't so hard to say, was it?' I grinned.

Antonio firstly smirked right back, but his cocky face soon fell when he remembered something.

'That wasn't hard to say, no – but you know what is hard to say? Telling the kids that we're going to leave them with the neighbors tomorrow.'

'…'

'…'

'Oh god – I totally forgot about that.'

'It's okay – we'll tell them as carefully as we can.' Antonio sounded confident as he gently took my hand. 'They'll understand, sweetie.'

Still, when we sat in front of them and listened to the kids' sleepy but gleeful voices telling us about some stupid commercial with flying dogs or whatever, patiently waiting for the opportunity to tell them about leaving them for a while tomorrow, I couldn't help but feel bad for them.

Or… or rather, feel bad for myself.

…

God. Being a parent is fucking complicated, isn't it?