Lovino walked with his brother, asking drunkenly, "You talked to him, didn't you? I could smell potatoes on him from across the bar, damnit."
"He was very nice, fratello." Feliciano muttered.
"Alright, alright, but you two aren't having sex until I meet him, understand?" Lovino warned. Feliciano blushed, swallowing hard. "Oh, don't tell me I'm saying that too late..." Lovino continued, taking note of his brother's expression.
"N-No! You're not too late, I only gave him my phone number!" Feliciano said quickly. Lovino raised an eyebrow, mumbling something.
"..Alright then. I guess I can live with that. Be careful with him, you hear? You barely know 'im." Lovino nagged.
And you be careful with Antonio, fratello, Feliciano thought. Feliciano laughed quietly at that.
"The fuck you laughin' at?" Lovino barked.
"Oh, um, nothing. I understand." Feliciano replied, smiling slightly. Lovino continued walking with his brother, grumbling.
Gilbert almost fell asleep waiting for Ludwig to unlock the door. Ludwig sighed, fumbling with the keys. "Oh, come on, already, I'm gonna die out here." Gilbert complained, shivering."Ja, ja, be patient." Ludwig replied quietly. Finally, the door opened. Gilbert stumbled in shortly after, making his way onto the couch. Ludwig set his keys down on the table next to the door. Emptying his pockets, he was reminded of the napkin Feliciano had given him with his phone number scrawled on it. Gilbert's words came up in his head. Cute one, wasn't he?
And that was how it went. For a week and a half, Feliciano thought of Ludwig, and Ludwig thought of him. For a week and a half, just about every night, seeing each other at eight o'clock sharp. Their brothers accompanied them, but after their drunken disappearances to other ends of the bar, they were left to talk by themselves. The two began to know just about everything about each other that the other was willing to share. Ludwig opened up more to the Italian with each passing night, and Feliciano welcomed every word Ludwig spoke with open arms. Feliciano talked of his childhood, and how he had known Roderich. That was the part that Ludwig didn't have good memory of.
It always varied when Feliciano would leave. It really all depended on his brother, Feliciano could stay all night with Ludwig, listening to the way his voice always sounded so...fitting to his personality. It was low, deep, but if you listened, you could hear the emotion in his voice when he spoke. He cared, he really did, but many people didn't care to listen more than what he was saying, paying more attention to what he was saying than to how he was saying it. But Feliciano was one of the few people who did care to listen, because the more Ludwig talked, the more he had Feliciano's heart in his pocket.
Even Lovino began to start to accept it, but Ludwig's nickname had stuck. "Potato bastard," he had called him more than anyone cared to count. Lovino accepted it, he had to because when Feliciano talked, his words always drifted to him. Lovino was happy that his brother was happy, though. That part was undeniable. He was happy that the potato bastard made him happy. It was fairly obvious that Feliciano made Ludwig happy, too. Also Gilbert. Gilbert was more than happy to see Feliciano nearly every night.
And so it went, with each heartbeat, with each blink of an eye, every passing second, their relationship grew. Ludwig would have never guessed that his own brother would introduce him to Feliciano. He would have called it a lie, had he heard it from someone else before the event. But it was not a lie that both of their brothers loved them.
Gilbert would not say that Ludwig was sad before Feliciano, and he would also call it terribly cliché to say that 'Feliciano lit up his world, and blah, blah, blah..', but he would say that Ludwig seemed considerably happier. He would also say that his new friend was cute. If they were just friends, Gilbert was unsure.
Lovino wouldn't say that Feliciano was sad, either. In public, Feliciano kept his cheery attitude, often talking with people at random, just to share his happiness with them. But when he was alone, his mood would change. Feliciano was a different person. He was quiet, letting his mind wander from what others were saying to him, whether that be his grandfather, or his brother. But he was different now, he had changed. Lovino knew that thought sounded cringe-worthy, too Hollywood-Teenage-Love-Story cheesy. But it was true.
To be continued...