Thanks again to asdfghjkl for another wonderful review~ And thanks to everyone else who has taken the time to give me feedback as well! I really appreciate it! Here's a new chapter for you all, enjoy!

oOo

"Are you sure this is alright with you?" Lovino stood hesitantly in the hallway of the apartment building, looking around with uncertainty. It was a rather nice place, really. The few buildings of this sort he'd ever entered had all been grey and empty, with floors that looked like they bred dust bunnies, and general lack of maintenance.

This place actually looked like someone cared about the area outside their own apartment door. The walls were a pale yellow shade, not too sharp to be blinding, and not too dull to look like a dirty white. While the floor was a simple cream shade, the green carpets made up for it. As did the plants scattered about as decoration. It didn't come across as claustrophobic either, due to the fact that the hallway was actually quite wide. Lovino was thankful for this, as cramped spaces had never been something he particularly enjoyed.

There were six doors on this floor, and Antonio had earlier told him a bit about the people living in the different apartments. Naturally, he didn't know all of them, but when you lived on the same floor, you were bound to run into them from time to time. Going by the Spaniard's contagious good mood, Lovino doubted it was hard for him to get a conversation going.

The only one he'd gone into quite a bit of detail of was the Frenchman living across the hall from him. A strange man, from the sound of it, yet kind-hearted as well. From what Antonio had told him, though, he couldn't help but question silently if the man's head and morals were as good as his heart.

"Of course it's alright!" Antonio replied lightly, as he searched his pockets for the key. "There is no way I would leave you alone in that house anymore! I already called a lock smith, and they will be changing the locks, delivering the keys directly here. Until the place is safe, you'll stay with me. Even when the locks are changed, I won't leave you alone. Not until that monster stops messing with your life!" His voice had started out as bright and sunny, turning steadily darker until it reached a quiet growl at the mention of Sadiq.

Had it been anyone else, Lovino would have been quite fearful of the look in his eyes. Surprisingly, even to himself, he wasn't even the tiniest bit afraid of him. Instead, he felt protected and safe. Even if he disliked being treated like a damsel in distress, he wasn't so sure if he really minded having a knight in shining armour coming to save him.

"But let's not stand around here. Come on in, Lovi!" Antonio was smiling again, having found the key, and opening the door to allow the hesitant Italian to enter the apartment. Lovino did as he was told, looking around as he stepped through the doorway.

It was a nice apartment. Not too big, but definitely not tiny either. With large windows that cast lots of sunlight on the cream-coloured walls, it had an airy feel to it. The furniture and decoration matched the Spaniard's personality, Lovino thought. It appeared simple, in a way, but by further inspection, there were a whole lot of details. Despite the fact that the furniture looked to have been picked up from various markets or shops, and hardly matched, each item complimented the rest in a strange way.

Every picture on the wall, and every decoration on the shelves and tables, looked as if it carried a memory along with it. A book shelf with loads of books, both new and old, had been placed by the wall, and there were lots of plants, lamps and other interior that made it a cosy apartment all together.

On the opposite side of the room was an archway leading to the kitchen, and two doors to the left probably led to the bath room and the bed room respectively.

"It's not much, but... well, I like it here," Antonio shrugged, as he sat Lovino's bag down, closing the door behind him.

"It's not bad," Lovino said, giving a half smile. The place even smelled good. Distractedly, he wondered if it would be considered a weird thing that he could tell that this place smelled like Antonio did. Either way, he'd keep that tad bit of information to himself.

"I only got one bed room, though... You take it, I'll just sleep on the couch."

"No fucking way."

Okay, screw his last comment on the knight in shining armour. He was still a man, and could deal with sleeping on a couch just as well as the next person. Not to mention the fact that the Spaniard's large, forest green couch looked rather soft and comfortable.

Antonio looked baffled, but the stubborn, determined hint never left his voice. "I can't let a guest sleep on the couch!" he insisted.

"And I can't throw you out of your bed. I'm giving you enough trouble as it is." Lovino crossed his arms stubbornly, eying his boyfriend without backing down.

Antonio shook his head violently. "You're not–"

"Just take the fucking bed already!"

"We'll take turns!" Antonio held up his hands quickly with a small chuckle, clearly hoping to quell the argument before it escalated into a fight.

Lovino blinked, having come up with several arguments to support his case that it now seemed he wouldn't have any use for. "Turns?" he questioned hesitantly.

"Sí. Unless you want to share, of course." The Spaniard gave a smile, and Lovino pursed his lips, responding on reflex.

"No way in hell!" The next second, he regretted it, allowing a look of apology through his defences. Apparently, he still had some work to do on his emotional barriers. "Sorry..."

"Don't worry, Lovi, I understand."

At times, Lovino wondered just how much patience God had granted this man for him to be able to deal so calmly with his moods and quirks. Not once had the Spaniard showed signs of getting tired of him, or of regretting spending time with him.

What the hell had he done to deserve a man like him? It was a thought he had asked himself on a frequent basis ever since the joyful, passionate man had waltzed into his life as if it was his goal in life to break through Lovino's defences and reach his heart. Was it him that had finally been blessed with some un-deserved good luck, or was it Antonio who'd been cursed with bad?

"We'll take turns, then," the Spaniard smiled, settling the matter, and Lovino could only nod in silent agreement, trying to force away the melancholic thoughts that attempted to sneak into his mind. "I'll make us some dinner. Just... Make yourself at home!" A beaming smile was sent in Lovino's direction as his boyfriend made his way to the kitchen, whistling happily.

Standing silently in the middle of the living room for a while, he felt rather awkward as he glanced around. 'Feel like home', huh... It was such an easy sentence to speak, he only wished it was just as easy to do.

Antonio was still whistling as he moved around the kitchen, and Lovino recognized the song, humming along without really noticing, as he began wandering, looking at various items. Next to the book shelf, there was a rather big space on the wall, where several photographs hung, catching his interest.

There was one picture, a rather old one judging by the fringed sides and somewhat dull appearance, of a group of children of various ages. Behind them, a white house was located, in the middle of a small garden with a few scattered trees and some plants. The house itself wasn't all that big, showing evident signs of being worn, but it was a fairly nice house despite it all. Two elderly ladies were standing behind the children, who had been lined up in the garden, both of them smiling softly. It didn't take Lovino long to conclude that this had to be taken at the orphanage Antonio grew up in. Finding his boyfriend in the picture took a bit longer, however, but when he finally found him, he couldn't help but stare in wonder.

The small child-version of his boyfriend stood amongst the children at the front of the group, dressed in an overly large T-shirt and a pair of shorts that showed his thin legs, complete with a pair of bruised and battered knees. His shoes pointed shyly towards each other, and his hands were clasped carefully in front of his chest, as if he tried to make himself as small as possible. If not for the bright green eyes and the brown curls, Lovino wasn't sure he would have recognized him at all. The tentative smile resting on his lips in the picture was so unlike his now confident and happy grin.

"My God, he was adorable..." he whispered to himself, resisting the urge to do the whole "aww, it's so cuuute~!"-thing his brother did whenever he spotted a kitten or a baby animal of any kind, really. Surprisingly, it was a bit difficult.

His gaze travelled to the next picture, showing a teenage Antonio – now sporting the familiar smile, with a confident posture to his lanky figure. He was standing next to two people, a girl with dark blonde hair, held in place with a hair band, and a tall boy with hair that seemed to stick up in various gravity-defying angles, though with a strange system to it, as if it had been set that way on purpose. The girl had hooked arms with both boys, and the other boy was turning his head demonstratively away from the camera with a neutral, but somewhat embarrassed expression on his face. Not much one for taking pictures, apparently.

There weren't that many pictures showing people, though a few was of Antonio with different people Lovino could only assume were his friends back in Spain. Most pictures, were in fact of landscapes. There were pictures of dry desert-like landscape and green hills, flower meadows, buildings and everyday happenings such as a market, or an old couple holding hands by the sea.

Several of the pictures showed the sea, in all its dazzling bright blue glory, as well as the rocky cliffs and the sandy beaches along the coast of Spain. Lovino's gaze stopped at the last picture on the wall, and his eyes widened slightly in surprise.

He remembered that picture. Antonio had brought a camera when they went to the beach to surf last time, and while Lovino had protested quite a lot, he'd still managed to take a picture of the two of them. The Spaniard had held him close as the camera was reached out before them... Lovino couldn't remember smiling so warmly, though. He was taken aback by the small, shy smile resting on his lips as he glanced up at the camera. One eyebrow was still arched at Antonio's childish antics, and his hair was a curly mess, drawn back from his face. Antonio wasn't much better off, and his cheeks had a rosy tint, from joy or from blushing, Lovino couldn't be sure.

The picture's angle was crooked, they both looked like a pair of drowned – and blow-dried – cats, and it was far from perfect at all. Yet, Antonio had bothered hanging it up on his wall, as if it fitted in with the beautiful landscapes and the pictures of his friends. Swallowing heavily, he reached out to let his fingers hover tentatively above Antonio's smiling face.

A knock on the door made him give a small yelp of surprise, and he drew his hand back rapidly as his attention snapped to the door. Antonio was still in the kitchen, and had apparently not heard the sound.

"I am coming in," came a call, and the door swung open as a blonde man swept into the living room, glancing around for Antonio. Lovino had frozen in his spot by the book shelf, and as the other didn't seem to notice him, he had the chance to look him over for a bit.

This had to be Francis, Antonio's neighbour, he assumed, as the man had a definite French accent. He wasn't an unattractive man, slender and well-dressed, with slight stubbles of beard that look somewhat out of place on his soft-featured face. His shoulder-length hair waved gently down each side of his face, and a pair of blue eyes moved across the room before falling on the kitchen archway.

Lovino hoped the guest would go there without spotting him, but luck didn't seem to be on his side, as the Frenchman caught sight of him, blinking in surprise before smiling brightly.

"Ah, you must be Antonio's cute little Italian!" he cooed, coming over to Lovino, who was now as tense as a stock. Something about this man unnerved him a bit, and made him want to back away. "It is a pleasure to meet you, mon cher! My name is Francis, I am Antonio's neighbour." He held out a hand, which Lovino took suspiciously with a small nod.

"I'm Lovino, and I am no-one's cute little Italian," he all but growled. He might be Antonio's boyfriend, but after being pestered by a rather possessive Turk for so long, he wasn't too fond of the thought of "belonging" to anyone other than himself.

Francis merely laughed, shaking his hand energetically. "I see, I apologize." He didn't sound at all apologetic. "Antonio is in the kitchen, oui?"

"Nope, I'm right here." Antonio came out of the kitchen, wearing a cooking apron and smiling brightly at the Frenchman.

Lovino only listened half-heartedly as the two chatted about something or the other rapidly. Instead he took to observing Francis' animated gestures. Every dramatic swing of his hand, every expression and the way he shifted his weight from one leg to the other was elaborate and precise, clearly practiced and mastered for a long time. Lovino couldn't help but notice that his eyes were more soft and sincere when he was chatting with Antonio. Perhaps the Frenchman wasn't so bad after all, he mused silently.

"Sorry, Francis, but we can't right now... Lovino is still a bit ill, and I can't just-"

"I'll go with you. Um, if... you don't mind..." Lovino broke off his boyfriend hurriedly, but let his own words drift off embarrassedly. He'd only been partially listening, but apparently Francis had been asking if they wanted to come to some place in the city. All he could think off when Antonio began turning down the invitation, was that he was already being enough of a nuisance. If Antonio couldn't go out just because he was there to tie him to the apartment, then he'd feel even worse about it.

"Are you sure...?" the green-eyed Spaniard blinked, eyeing him carefully. Lovino could tell that Antonio was far from sure that this was a good idea, and to be honest, he wasn't entirely convinced himself. But what the hell was he supposed to do? Lock himself in his boyfriend's home and wait for Sadiq to either appear or go away for good? No, he couldn't take that kind of isolated life, and he definitely didn't want to isolate Antonio along with him. That wouldn't be fair at all.

"Yeah. I'm feeling fine," he said and gave the other a pointed look when he opened his mouth to voice further objections.

"Wonderful!" Francis smiled as Antonio gave in and agreed to the idea. "Then we will meet up at Elizaveta's tonight at seven, oui?"

Oh, so that's where they were going. Lovino's shoulders relaxed a bit at this. He hadn't heard where they were going, and had for a moment been afraid that they would pull him along to some bar to get drunk. At least Elizaveta's café was rather cosy.

"Yeah, sure," Antonio smiled, waving as the Frenchman practically skipped out the door. The smile turned to a hesitant frown as soon as the door closed, however, and Lovino sighed.

"I really am fine, you know," Lovino repeated.

"But Lovi, what if he shows up?"

"What am I supposed to fucking do, huh? Stay inside and hide until he magically disappears?" Lovino waved his arms in exasperation, but could tell that his boyfriend still wasn't convinced.

"Maybe you really should call the police," the Spaniard murmured after a slight pause, and Lovino's shoulders sagged at this. It wasn't the first time this option came up, but it still scared him. Ever since Sadiq began hurting him, he'd been threatening that calling the police would only make things worse. He'd promised that if Lovino ever tried anything like that, he'd hurt his brother and anyone else he might care about. It just wasn't an option.

"I already told you that I can't..."

"I know you've said that, but I just want this to be over, Lovino! I want that fucking bastard behind bars where I'm sure he'll never be able to hurt you again!"

"Damn it, it's not that easy!" Lovino understood perfectly what the Spaniard meant, though, as he would give anything to know that Sadiq couldn't possibly come after him anymore.

Antonio just eyed him with an expression that made something twist painfully in his chest. Then the green gaze fell to the floor, and the lack of eye-contact made him feel all that much worse.

"Tell me, Lovi... If you were me, would you just stand by and watch your boyfriend being tormented by fear and anxiety? Wouldn't you want to protect him...?"

Lovino knew that if the situation had been reversed, he'd probably react just like Antonio had, and he knew for sure that he'd want to kick the guy's ass. But this wasn't only about them. A situation was rarely as simple as it looked, and more often than not, there were more people included in the mess.

"If it was you who was in my situation," he said thickly, eyes never leaving Antonio's features, despite the lack of eye contact, "would you call the police if it meant endangering the only family member you had left?"

"All right, point taken... But damn, I hate this, Lovino." The Spaniard ran a hand through his hair, before giving a small, weak smile and holding out his arms in invitation. Lovino obliged without a second thought. At times, it felt good just to be held and comforted. It was a luxury he hadn't had ever since he was little. He could always get used to it, though. However comfortable it was, however, he couldn't help but notice a rather unpleasant scent.

"Antonio?"

"Hm?"

"I think your kitchen is on fire..."

oOo

One charred, burnt, but far from unpleasant meal and some afternoon relaxation later, the two walked in the doors of Elizaveta's café, which had more guests now than last time they were there.

"There they are." Antonio smiled, taking his hand and leading him towards a booth closer to the karaoke set, where a woman in her thirties was currently singing an upbeat country tune. Lovino hesitated as he noticed this. It was karaoke night? Surely, they weren't here to sing, where they? Still, he swallowed his fears, letting the other lead him over to the booth, where Francis was sitting along with two other people.

"There you are!" Francis smiled brightly at them, and Antonio grinned back, greeting the other two. From what Antonio had told him, Lovino could tell that the man with silvery white hair and red eyes had to be Gilbert, though he wasn't sure about the lithe blonde man sitting next to him.

Greetings were exchanged quickly, and Lovino found that his guess had been correct, and that the blonde was Gilbert's boyfriend, Matthew. Gilbert came off as loud and a bit arrogant, and Matthew could at first meeting be described as his exact opposite; sweet, calm and mild-mannered. As time passed, and conversation began to flow freely, however, Lovino began thinking that maybe they weren't quite as different as they seemed. Gilbert turned out to be a more complex person than he let on, and appeared calmer and more sensible as he began feeling more comfortable, while Matthew turned out to be more self-assured and strong than he first appeared.

"I am feeling oddly left out," Francis joked as they all grew a bit more secure in each others' company, "being the only one without a companion."

"Speaking of which, Franny, what did you do to that Brit you were dating?" Gilbert asked good-naturally, adding a smirk. "Decided he wasn't 'Mr. Right' after all?"

"Non, Arthur and I are still dating." There was a synchronized gasp from both Gilbert and Antonio, as if they had practiced reacting at the exact same moment for years, and they gave each other a mock horrified glance. "I know, it is rather uncharacteristic of me," Francis admitted, smiling in a way that showed he didn't mind his friends' teasing at all.

"So, he ditched you?"

"He had to go home to Angleterre for a while," Francis gave a sad sigh, but then piped up again. "Hey, let us sing instead of talking!" he suggested, and Lovino felt his heart sink. So that really was part of the reason they came here.

"Yeah!" Antonio and Gilbert agreed whole-heartedly, while Matthew gave a hesitant glance at the karaoke machine with a small smile. The next minute, the gentle Canadian gave a yelp, however, as Gilbert pulled him to his feet.

"Come on, Mattie, let's sing a duet!"

And the madness began. Lovino had to admit it was rather fun to listen to his friends – strangely, addressing the odd group as friends felt almost natural – sing song after song, to the great joy of the rest of the café's inhabitants. None of them were bad singers, though they at times sang in an exaggerated comical way, and thus made for an entertaining form of entertainment.

"Thank you!" Gilbert finished a song he'd been singing, dipping into an elegant bow and pretending that the scattered applause in the small café was the over-enthusiastic response from a whole dome of cheering fans. The mood had gone from happy, upbeat songs to more calm and slow songs.

Lovino applauded along with the rest, feeling rather comfortable actually. It had been so long since he'd been able to just go out and enjoy himself, and he found that he could get used to hanging out with friends like this. The feeling quickly morphed into discomfort, however as the others turned to him.

"What...?" he asked, although he already knew what they were suggesting. It was evident in their eager expressions. Quickly lifting his hands in a 'no way'-motion, he shook his head violently. "No. I'm not singing."

"Oh come on, Lov!" Gilbert said, giving a pout that looked utterly comical on his face. Lovino nearly groaned at the nickname, which the German had started using earlier that night, finding some strange amusement in the fact that it sounded just like how British people would call someone "love".

Francis nodded in agreement. "Please sing! It is not like there are much expectations in a place like this, people just sing and listen to have a good time, not to criticize."

"But I... I am not very good..." Lovino protested meekly. It wasn't that he disliked singing, he greatly enjoyed it in fact. It was the part about singing with an audience that didn't sit right with him.

"Oh, it can't be worse than some of those we've heard tonight, eh?" Even Matthew joined in on the argument, the one person he thought might support his case.

"Please, Lovi? One song?" Antonio spoke up now, eying him with a soft expression that made his resolve melt like butter in the summer sun.

"Tch, whatever. You brought this upon yourself, mind you!" he snapped, though his nervousness slipped through his pretensions, making the glare he gave them all lose some of its effect.

The walk up to the make-shift stage was terribly long, and was made even worse as people applauded and cheered him on. Blushing a deep red, he looked through the songs, finding one he had always been quite fond of, and choosing that one before grabbing the microphone. The lights felt painfully warm on his face, as he gazed stiffly out at the crowd, waiting for the music to begin.

Why the hell had he let himself be talked into this? Oh God, he was feeling faint now, he couldn't deal with this. It had to be an alternative form of hell. He shuffled his feet anxiously, regretting the song choice, regretting letting his guard down, regretting the whole trip to this damn café, despite it all...

And then the intro began, calm, sad and oddly reassuring. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he took a deep breath, focusing on the music... and he began singing.

oOo

Thanks for reading! Have a good weekend, everyone~

Angleterre – England (French)