-Antonio-

Antonio wiped his forehead and accepted the water bottle from the attendant. He turned to go back to his Lovi and ask him if he enjoyed the fight….

Only to see Francis hanging off of him, and Lovino cussing at him to get off.

Well, that just wouldn't do.

No, that wouldn't do at all.

He felt his face contort into a grimace/glare/'I'm going to fuck you up' expression, and he power-walked over to the stands. He only grew angrier as he heard the conversation.

"Get off of me, you French fuckface!"

"Oh, but your blush is so cute! I see why Toni enjoys you so much!"

"Let go, damnit!"

"You were so adorable, being all concerned for him like that! I wonder if Toni would mind sharing~"

"YOU FUCKING-"

"Francis."

All three heads turned towards Antonio, who was smiling. But his smile seemed to sharp to be genuine, as if it had been cut from glass and stuck on his face, ready to shatter any second and reveal the true emotion underneath. All of them shuddered at the sight of it.

"Alright, that's enough. Let him go, mi amigo."

Francis sighed, and released him. Lovino gave him a quick kick to the shins, and Francis hissed in pain. He turned towards Antonio.

"Your friend is a fucking pervert. I'm going to the bathroom to wash myself off."

"How cruel! I'm not filthy-"

Francis wanted to say something along the lines of 'you little fucker', but Antonio was right there, and he knew enough French to understand the gist of what he was saying to his precious Lovi evn if he spoke in his native tongue. And he already looked a more than a little pissed off under that grin. Antonio looked over at his Lovi, and his smile morphed into a more genuine one. Lovino was sort of relieved at the sight of it. He figured that he was imagining the smile from before.

"Alright! Come back when you're done, alright? I have something to ask you~!"

Lovino rolled his eyes at the childlike tone.

"Fine, damn it. But make it quick, I have to go back to school in a bit."

With that, he rose from his seat, searching for the restroom. Antonio waited until he was out of sight, and turned back to France.

"Ah, could you lean over a bit, Francis? I have to tell you something, and it's a little private."

Wary, Francis leaned closer. Once he was within his reach, Antonio grabbed his button-down and yanked him closer to his face, his unwavering angry stare showing that his irises had gone from a bright emerald to an oak tree's leaves at night.

"If I ever, see you invading mi amore's personal space again, or making him the least bit uncomfortable, we are going to have words. Painful, violent words. And I do not and WILL NOT 'share', so hands off him. And if you can't remember to keep your hands to yourself, I will dig my old friend out of the basement and cut them off so you can't forget. Lo entiendes?"

"O-oui."

"Bueno. Lo digo en serio (I mean it), Francis. Esto no es una amenaza, es una promesa (This isn't a threat, it's a promise).

Francis nodded, and Gilbert narrowed his lips. It was easy to forget that while his grandfather's cheerful nature ran through the young matador's veins, there were plenty of bad, dangerous people who he was just as equally related to. It wasn't until he was extremely angry or threatened that what they called the Carriedo's Curse came out. Antonio released his hold on Francis, and just like that, the cheerful idiot was back, as if nothing had happened. They shared a look of shared wariness, but the only way to tell was from the shade of his eyes, of all things. And the color had brightened, and he was blinking again, so it was over.

Little did they know was that Lovino had been watching the entire exchange with wide eyes and a gaping jaw.

-Lovino-

As Antonio ran off to change, Lovino rushed up to the stands.

"Oh, you're back. Antonio just ran off to change, he'll be back in a moment-"

"What the fuck was that?"

They both flinched a little.

"What was what?"

"You know what, you bastards. What was that?"

Gilbert groaned, and Francis sighed.

"That, you little bastard, is what we call the Carriedo's Curse."

"Carriedo's what-now?"

"Carriedo's Curse. Let's just say that as a child, Antonio was around very bad people who did very fucked up things."

"We can't say much more than that; it's not our place. But our happy-go-lucky, dense-as-a-brick friend has a dark side that comes out whenever he's extremely angry or feels truly threatened somehow."

"You want to know more? Ask him yourself."

-Lovino-

He bit his lip, and winced. He knew he didn't know him that well, but he felt a little lied to. It didn't seem possible. Sure, he didn't blame him for it; it wasn't like he could help it. It wasn't Antonio's fault, he was just a child. But how did someone who looked that sunny also manage to look so thunderous? There wasn't a crack in his persona at all. He chatted on as happily as ever, as if he hadn't just threatened to seriously injure one of his best friends. But that just meant he was that seamless. They were both a part of him; neither a façade. He asked if Lovino and his friends wanted a tour around the nearby neighborhoods; a true representation of Spain, not those tourist traps. Lovino had mumbled a stunned 'I guess so' and Antonio had grinned the largest, most childlike grin he had ever seen on a grown man.

He wanted to ask.

He wanted to ask so badly.

But he didn't know him well enough yet. That seemed like something you only tell the ones closest to you. But he really wanted to know.

Who was Antonio Fernadez-Carriedo?