Thanks to everyone who is reading my story! And to everyone who's taken the time to review! Here's a new chapter for you.
oOo
For the first time in a long time, Lovino had serious trouble focusing on his work. No matter what happened, it somehow brought his train of thoughts back to Antonio and the evening that ended in disaster. He kept working through various ways he could have made it a great evening, period, but no matter how many ideas played through his mind, he always came back to the same conclusion.
Antonio had asked him out, and he had acted like a total bastard and ruined everything. Big time.
"Whoa, dude, I think those papers are dead already...!" He blinked out of his frustrating thoughts, realizing he'd crumpled the papers he just printed out, leaving the document to look like some sort of misshaped piece of origami-art. A groan escaped his lips as he turned on his heel to go and shred the miserable remains, and print out a new copy.
Alfred, the cheerful American who'd alerted him of the paperwork-massacre, fell into step beside him and gave a lopsided smile, which looked slightly nervous. Not so strange, perhaps, judging by the fact that Lovino probably looked like he was about to explode. Which, in truth, was exactly how he felt.
"You ok, buddy? You look a bit..."
"Grumpy? Annoyed? Frustrated?"
"I was going to say 'Just about ready to bite someone's head off', but sure, those work too..."
Lovino glared at him, but Alfred never was one to care about such trivial expressions. It wasn't like he was unfamiliar with being on the receiving end of glares and sharp comments. He gave a small smile, but his startling-blue eyes still held a somewhat concerned expression, behind a pair of square, thin-framed glasses.
"I'm fine, Jones," Lovino sighed, quickening his pace a bit, in the hopes that his colleague would take a hint and go do whatever he was supposed to be doing. The chance of that happening was pretty much non-existent, and the annoyed Italian was well aware of the fact.
"You sure? I've never seen you as distracted as you are today... It's creeping me out a bit."
"Yes, I'm sure! Just... leave me alone, Alfred..." the last part was uttered in a more quiet tone. Alfred gasped in mock horror, giving an exaggerated expression of great fear.
"You just called me by first-name! Seriously, you must be really sick! You got a fever there?" a hand was practically slapped against Lovino's forehead, earning the American a sharp growl.
"If you don't step away from me, I swear I'm putting you into the shredding machine after I'm done with these papers!"
Alfred simply chuckled, though he stepped out of reach quickly, seemingly convinced by this reaction that Lovino was still the Lovino he was used to.
"Try not to kill the new print too, huh?" With those words, and a playful wink, he was gone, leaving Lovino to grumble quiet profanities that made nearby workers step a bit further out of his path.
He felt a bit bad for it. His bad mood wasn't the fault of anyone or anything but his own stupidity, and he shouldn't let it affect his effort at work. If only he wasn't such a big idiot. If only he'd dealt with the situation last night in a better way... If only he had the courage to at least apologize to the Spaniard.
In all honesty, the sudden question of going on a date with him, though it had shocked him at the time, wasn't all that unappealing. That's what scared him the most of all. He didn't want to get close to the other. He didn't want to get close to anyone.
By all means, he was perfectly fine on his own, damn it. So what if every kind of human relationship he tried ended in disaster, his own company was all he needed, and all he ever had and would need. End of story.
Somehow, though, these 'reassuring' thoughts did nothing for his mood. The anger that had been so strong just moments ago was rapidly being replaced by depression, and by the time he reached the shredder, he just wanted to run himself through it and throw himself in the trash, so that no one would ever remember that there once was a Lovino Vargas working at the office...
The depression did not leave as he finished off his work day, about two hours after most of the others. Nor did it leave as he trudged through the light rain shower, up to the house, stepping inside as silently as he could, in the hopes of not making a big deal out of his arrival. At the moment, he just wanted to be left alone to go upstairs and lock himself in his room.
"There you are, fratello!" Unfortunately, his brother seemed to have developed some sort of grumpy-brother-radar throughout the years, and his plan to head to bed early was washed away with the rain outside. Feliciano poked his head out though the opening to the kitchen, smiling cheerfully at him.
"We've got pasta waiting for you!"
We...? Oh no. Not today, of all days.
"I'm not that hungry," he grumbled, as he put his coat and boots away. Even if he had been hungry, he would have preferred to go to sleep without food.
"B-but... fratello..." Oh no, not the puppy-dog-eyes. Feliciano mastered that expression more than anyone – honestly, people should start calling it Feliciano-eyes when puppy-dogs tried that with their owners. There was no way Lovino could resist that expression, no way in hell.
It was a damn shame, though. The last person he wanted to deal with right now was that potato-eating bastard Feliciano liked to call his "boyfriend".
Ludwig was of German heritance, but had moved here years ago, along with his brother. He and Feliciano had met just about two years ago, and soon fell into some sort of dysfunctional almost-love-relationship, despite being as different as two human beings possibly could be. The blonde, serious German seemed to be in denial about it, until some time ago. When they finally got together officially, everyone seemed to be relieved that things sorted out for them.
Lovino hated it, though. Ever since he first met the blonde, and seen the way his hard expression softened when around his brother, he'd started showing great dislike for him and their relationship. Everyone, including Ludwig, thought that Lovino hated him.
That wasn't the truth, though Lovino didn't really care if they thought so. The truth, no matter how much he despised admitting it, was that he was scared. Scared that Ludwig Beilschmidt would steal his brother away, leaving him on his own. Even more scared of the possibility that the man would break Feliciano's heart. Of course, he hid these fears behind his usual shield of grumpiness and anger.
"Hello, Lovino," the blonde gave a nod of his head as he entered the kitchen, where the table was set. He was just folding the apron Feliciano had bought some time ago, apparently trying to make the motion go unnoticed by the elder Italian. Of course he'd be embarrassed about wearing it – which he obviously had been, judging by the slight blush visible on the blonde's cheek bones –; tall, muscular and generally manly men just did not wear pink, frilly aprons of their own, free will.
"Beilschmidt," was Lovino's short reply. Feliciano and Ludwig both seemed a bit surprised at this. It wasn't all that strange, Lovino supposed, considering the fact that he almost always used some sort of offensive nickname for the guy, often both creative and colourful.
Dinner was a tense affair, though it could hardly be described as quiet, with Feliciano's constant babbling. Lovino could tell that the atmosphere was making even the ever-oblivious young man nervous. While most people wouldn't be able to tell his usual rambling from his nervous-rambling, to Lovino it was painfully obvious.
Ludwig tried adding to the conversation from time to time, and he even tried encouraging some sparse words out of the elder Italian – usually earning him a sharp glare of warning in return that made him sigh softly and continue eating.
It struck Lovino as a bit sad that the obvious reason for this unusual tenseness was the lack of profanities and growling on his part. More often than not, he would come across as foul-mouthed, offensive and quite aggressive, really. Ludwig didn't know how to handle this solemn, silently-dangerous Lovino Vargas, and Feliciano was clearly starting to think that the entire dinner-fiasco was his fault.
Seeing as Lovino rarely received anything but work-calls when it wasn't Feliciano phoning him, he'd never thought he'd be relieved to hear the buzzing tune in his pocket. Fishing out his phone, he glanced at the ID-call... and promptly choked on a piece of pasta upon recognizing the number.
After his eruption the other night, he never expected to hear from Antonio again. If the Spaniard wasn't truly as happy-go-lucky and oblivious as he sometimes seemed, he should have been hurt or at least offended by the harshness and suddenness of Lovino's rejection.
Coughing, spluttering, and ignoring Feliciano's worried exclamations, he stared at the phone. By the time he managed to breathe, it was still ringing. Standing from his chair, he excused himself from the table, pushing the call button and holding the phone to his ear.
"C-ciao..."
"Lovi? I'm sorry if I'm disturbing, you sound a bit out of breath..."
"You're not disturbing. What do you want?" Damn it, his lips were already running ahead of him, and he felt his heart jump against his ribcage, as if it was trying to make a hole in his chest to escape through. He quickly headed out of the kitchen, lowering his voice ever so slightly, not really wishing to be overheard.
"I... well, I felt that things ended a bit badly the other night, and I felt kind of bad about it. I shouldn't have asked you so suddenly, and-"
"It's not your fault." No, the fault was entirely on Lovino's part, and the fact that Antonio believed otherwise made something twist painfully inside.
"But I-"
"Listen, y-you just surprised me, that's all." He still sounded a bit angry – as usual – but at least he managed to come across as somewhat polite. "I shouldn't have blown up like I did." Ok, now to say sorry... Which proved a lot more difficult than he had anticipated. His lips opened and closed repeatedly, but it was as if his throat had constricted, and the words refused to escape.
Before his voice decided to cooperate, however, Antonio spoke again, voice hopeful but also a bit timid, as if he was trying to stay optimistic, but still expected to be violently rejected once again. "I really did have a great time, Lovino! I understand if you haven't changed your mind, but... well, the proposition still stands, if you're interested?"
Lovino couldn't believe it. His heart, previously raging in his chest, seemed to stop, and he just stared out into thin air, mouth open. That certainly hadn't been something he had expected the other to say.
"Are you being serious?" was the intelligent words that stumbled out before he could stop them. Antonio was still willing to go out with him, despite the fact that Lovino had cursed at him, been nothing but impolite, grumpy and reluctant. Despite the fact that he had blown up in Antonio's face before running off like the cowardly asshole he was.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Antonio questioned softly. That damn answering-a-question-with-a-question-tactic again... Lovino could find plenty of reasons why he wouldn't – and shouldn't be serious, but didn't voice them.
"I... I'm not the kind of guy anyone would want to date," he grumbled when he finally managed to find his voice to reply, and there was a pause at the other end, before Antonio sounded again. His voice was gentle and soft and somehow made a lump form in Lovino's throat.
"I'm not 'anyone'."
Lovino struggled a bit before managing to speak again. "You better not bring me to a closed cinema next time, bastard."
"I won't!" Antonio sounded sincerely happy, and pretty soon, he was babbling on about something or the other, as Lovino sank down into a chair in the living room, answering with small noises of agreement, or one-word-replies. Time became unimportant, and for a moment the depression that had tormented him earlier didn't seem to weigh quite as heavily on his mind.
oOo
Summer slowly gave way for early autumn, as "one more date" turned into two, which turned into three... and fairly soon, Lovino's decision not to let anyone too close to him, went spiralling down the drain. By the time he even realized it, it was far too late to turn back.
His fear didn't disappear, far from it. Troubling thoughts and worries still nagged at him, and that quiet voice in the back of his head still tried to convince him that this was only going to get him hurt, that he should stop now and back away, before things got out of hand. It was hard to ignore it, but he somehow managed to push it to the back of his head.
Optimism was a trait he had killed and buried so long ago that it felt utterly unfamiliar, but for the first time in a long time, Lovino actually wanted to believe that things could work out. He wanted to believe that this time would be different. He never would have thought that a small bit of optimism could make his days seem so much brighter.
"Wow, you look happy!" Lovino blinked out of his thoughts, glancing up at Alfred over his coffee cup. "Besides, it's rare to see you actually take a break!" the American gave him a smile, sitting down in one of the other chairs in the room, fishing up a burger from his bag.
Lovino didn't answer, unsure of how to respond, and a bit embarrassed that he'd been caught sitting there with a distant expression and a small smile playing on his lips.
"I'm a bit relieved, really," Alfred continued without caring about the lack of verbal response. "Not too long ago, you looked ready to either collapse from exhaustion or murder someone with your stapler." At this, Lovino glared at him, though he knew that sadly, Alfred was right.
"Shut up, you..." he murmured with a sigh, not bothering with any harsher confrontation. Alfred merely smiled, finishing his burger in seconds and then bringing out another before swinging his legs over the armrest of the chair he was sitting in. The position and the burger in his hand made him look more like a carefree school kid than an working, adult man.
"Did something good happen?" he asked after a while, between bites. Lovino glanced at him, and was quite shocked when he was overcome by a sudden need to talk about it. Never before had he had any troubled separating his work-life and his personal life, though Alfred had threatened to make him cross that invisible line before.
"I... I guess..." he said quietly, blushing ever so slightly. Before he really knew what he was doing, he had told Alfred about Antonio, and thus crossed the invisible line he'd been so determined not to cross, and taking a huge leap out of his comfort zone. Only when he finished talking, did he realize what he'd just done.
Tensing abruptly where he sat, he could feel a sense of panic building in his throat as he waited anxiously for Alfred to laugh, yell at him, or make some sort of remark on how incredibly out-of-character he was being...
"Wow, that's awesome, man!" Blinking, Lovino dared a glance at the blonde again. Alfred's expression wasn't mocking, and he wasn't laughing. A true, sincere smile adorned his expression, as he stood and came over to give Lovino a slap on the back. "You deserve some happiness."
With that, he gave a huge smile and a wave as he left the pause-room, leaving Lovino to stare after him, shoulders slowly relaxing.
"That... wasn't as painful as I thought..." A small, lopsided smile touched his features, as he too stood, putting his professional mask back in place with some difficulty, before heading back to the office to get some work done.
No matter how professional his expression was, there was a new-found energy to his steps that hadn't been there before, and he couldn't help but feel that people weren't shying nervously away from him like they used to do.
oOo
Hope you liked the chapter~ If you could give me some feedback, telling me what you think of it so far, that would be awesome! ^^
Ciao – Hello (and "goodbye")(Italian)