"You just get creepier and creepier every time I see you, bastard," Lovina remarked as the guilty trio was finally forced to enter the band room. Antonio grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head while muttering a, "Lo siento."
The auburnette turned towards the other two, hands on her hips as she stared at them levelly.
"Well, I know Antonio is a creepy bastard, but what are your excuses?" she questioned, glare particularly directed at a certain albino.
Gilbert had taken to leaning against the piano, hands in his pockets while Madeline avoided his gaze awkwardly. His red eyes glanced around the room uncomfortably as he cleared his throat, unsure of what he was about to do.
"Uh, well, I came here to, uh, apologize," the albino forced out painfully, wincing as he looked up at Lovina's quirked eyebrow and Madeline's surprised, if not slightly pleased, expression.
"I'm listening," the Italian prodded, taking a seat in a nearby plastic chair, enjoying the Prussian's nervous swallows slightly too much. He'd probably never apologized a day in his life, and now he had to do it in front of more than half a dozen other people.
"Lovina," he started, daring to meet her eyes for a moment and regretting it instantly. "I am really, really, uh..." Antonio's normally enigmatic green eyes were unusually forceful as he nodded his head, urging the Prussian to continue. Something told him if he didn't go through with the apology his ass would be meeting a certain Spaniard's boot. "I'm...I'm sorry for...shoving paella in your face. It was shitty of me to do. Forgive me?"
The auburnette pretended to think for a moment, tapping her chin with her middle finger before she replied with a quick, "You are most definitely not forgiven, German Bastard."
Well, it was worth a shot.
Madeline sighed at her friend's obstinacy, though she knew Lovina was secretly pleased.
"Ve, sorella, you're so mean!" Feliciana practically sang as Alice was fidgeting under a certain Frenchman's intense stare throughout the entire apology. Finally, the pressure of being stared at so long finally piqued.
"If you have something to say, Frog, then bloody say it!" the Briton finally exclaimed, furrowing her (*cough* massive) eyebrows as her ex-boyfriend stared, surprised, before he broke into a grin.
"Ohonhon, you have not changed in the slightest, mon lapin. Still as sassy as ever." he commented, leaning in close to wrap one hand around her shoulders.
"Get your slimy hands off of me, Frog!" she squealed in surprise, reeling back as though she'd been stung much to Francis's disappointment and Alfred's pleasure.
"Yeah, man, shouldn't you guys be in class anyways?" the American noted, checking his watch to see that the dismissal bell had not yet rung and seventh period was still in session.
The trio looked at each other once before bursting into laughter.
"You crack me up, Jones!"
"Ay, amigo, that was a good one!"
Alfred pouted in confusion.
"Seriously, Jones, the Bad Touch Trio doesn't care about missing a class or two!" Gilbert supplied, noticing that up close this kid did look a lot like Maddie. Same nose, facial structure, skin color, etc. The albino's observations were suddenly cut short by a loud screech from Lovina.
"AHHH, GET OFF OF ME, BASTARD!" she screamed, trying to push away Antonio's face as he all but suffocated her in a hug.
"But you're so cute, querida! You have the cutest little smile!" the Spaniard cooed, trying to rub his face against the girl's cheek.
"I WAS NOT SMILING, THAT WAS A SMIRK! THERE IS A DIFFERENCE!"
"Ve, I want to hug, too!"
"FELI, DON'T YOU DARE COME NEAR ME!"
Suddenly, a hand slipped around the Canuck's waist and she was dragged away from the noise to come face-to-face with a grinning Prussian.
"Ah, you might be pissed at me still, Birdie, but I promise not to pick on Lovina anymore. So can you find it somewhere in your awesome heart to not hate my guts?" he asked, nearly aww'ing as Madeline's face darkened in color. She stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before clearing her throat.
"I-I'll think about it," she managed, becoming partially distracted as Francis and Alfred began tugging on a screeching Briton's pigtails. "I-If you do me a favor."
Gilbert quirked a brow before nodding with a quick, "Yeah, sure, anything."
Before her courage could fail her, the blonde stuttered, "T-take me to Starbucks at four."
Grabbing her bag, Madeline all but bolted from the band room as the bell rang, clutching her cheeks in sudden horror as the Prussian stared after her. Had she really just said that? It was so ball-sy, so courageous, so...flirty.
Oh God. Did she just flirt with Gilbert Beilschmidt?
-break-
"On the unit circle, you have three really important angles. The 30, 45, and 60-are you listening to me, Feliciana?" Ludwig asked his student as she stared out his kitchen window idly, ve'ing at random points of time. She blinked once before turning to the blonde beside her.
"Can we take a break, Luddy?" she begged, just as Gilbert trotted into the room, ears perking up at the sound of a familiar voice.
"Hey! Feliciana, isn't it? Are you on a date with my unawesome little bruder?" came the gravelly voice as the albino opened the refrigerator, scanning the shelves for something awesome for him and Gilbird to eat before he picked Maddie up at four. The Italian nodded happily while Ludwig growled out a low, "No," pushing away the pre-calculus notes as he realized he wouldn't have the brunette's attention for another half hour.
"Oh, Ludwig, Ludwig!" the Italian suddenly bubbled, turning towards her tutor with a bright smile. "Did I tell you I found a dog yesterday? He's so cute, and Grandpa says I can keep him if I make sure to feed him and stuff. Guess what I named him!" she gushed, as the German's face passed into a look of pure horror.
"Oh Gott, please tell me you didn't-"
"Si, I named him after you! His name is Ludweenie Dog though sorella just calls him Weenie Bastard."
Gilbert, who'd been opening a bag of chips tried to stifle his laughter at the conversation, biting down on his knuckles as he shook with silent chuckles; Ludwig's face was priceless!
"Look, look, I have a picture of him on my phone!" the Italian cried, shoving a blurred picture of a dog into the German's face as she jumped in place excitedly. The male grabbed the phone and stared at the image for a moment, before face-palming.
"Feliciana, this isn't even a weenie dog! It's a chihuahua!"
The Prussian wheezed silently, imagining a tiny, palm-sized chihuahua named after his massive brother but couldn't keep the cackles from bubbling over. Ludwig sighed, scrolling to the next picture when his face suddenly caught fire.
"F-Feliciana, what exactly is this a picture of?" he gulped as he stared at what looked like the Italian in a string bikini. She simply smiled happily.
"Oh, I was shopping for a swimsuit and decided to send the picture to sorella so she could comment on it!" The German was barely listening though, too busy clutching his nose as blood started to run between his fingers.
"Ve, Luddy, are you okay?"
Suddenly, the blonde had rushed out the kitchen door, apologizing profusely as Gilbert rolled wildly across the floor, laughing to his heart's content. The Italian cocked her head cutely, before shrugging her shoulders and asking, "Ve, can I make some pasta?"
-break-
"Stop following me, Weenie Bastard!" Lovina cried as she power-walked to her bedroom, a black and white long-haired chihuahua trotting close behind. She hopped onto her rather tall bed, watching in satisfaction as the dog could only stare up at her from its position on the floor. Its tiny yips received nothing but profanities in return.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang and her grandfather called up the stairs in a sing-song voice much too similar to Feliciana's, "Lovina! Somebody's at the door for you~!" The girl's head shot up, wondering who the hell was visiting her. She better not walk outside and get a face full of egg or something.
Darting down the stairs, aversion towards the puppy no longer at the forefront of her mind even as it chased her heels, Lovina yanked open the front door to find an idiotic Spaniard waiting. Upon seeing her, he whipped a bouquet of fresh white daisies out from behind his back. Lovina's jaw dropped.
"W-What the hell are you doing here, Bastard?" she asked (n-no, she did not squeak!) after a minute's excruciating pause, watching as Antonio placed the flowers in her unresponsive hands. He cleared his throat.
"Uh, I was wondering if you would like to get something to eat...with me?" he asked, clearly nervous though his smile did not falter. Was it too soon to ask her out? His madre said all girls loved flowers, so why was Lovina holding the daisies as if they would catch fire any second?
She gawked at him for a good minute or two, making the Spaniard shift awkwardly in place as his heartbeat picked up in anticipation.
"Is this a fucking joke?" the Italian finally spat rudely, staring at both him and the flowers with something akin to disgust. Antonio's heart plummeted.
"N-no, it's not a jok! I was just thinking you might be hungry and my madre said all girls loved-" he rambled, stomach fluttering as the girl he'd grown so fond of promptly slammed the door in his face.
"Get off of my doorstep, Bastard!" she screamed past the wood in between them, dashing upstairs before the man could ring the doorbell again. Her grandfather peered around the corner in disappointment.
Slamming her bedroom door shut, Lovina covered her cheeks in sheer mortification, the heat radiating beneath her palms.
Never in her entire life had she been asked out by a boy; Antonio was the first to ever have the gall and being the idiot she was she had slammed the door in his face!
Muttering the word stupid over and over again, the still blushing Italian hit her head against the wall repeatedly, careful not to damage the daisies still clamped in her hands.
After a moment of self-hatred and quick deliberation, Lovina rushed out of the room, nearly tripping down the steps as she barreled towards the front door. Ripping it open and ignoring every alarm in her head blaring that this was dangerous, the auburnette saw Antonio's dejected back trudging slowly back to his shoddy pickup truck.
"Hey, Bastard!" she shouted, effectively gaining the Spaniard's attention as he turned around in surprise, expecting the flowers he'd spent nearly twenty bucks on to be thrown aggressively in his face.
Upon seeing his eyes (damn those abnormally green eyes!), Lovina lost every ounce of courage she had salvaged moments before. She glanced away, heart jumping into her throat as she spoke.
"This better not take too long. And you're paying!"
Within seconds, she found herself pressed solidly against a rather exuberant Spaniard.
"You will not regret this, querida!" he shouted, smiling widely into her hair as his heart practically did a jig in his chest.
Lovina repressed the urge to mutter, "I hope not," though her heart, too, was racing.
-break-
"...are you sure you want to eat here? This place is pretty damn expensive. I would know, I'm Italian." Lovina asked, eying the La Amodeo's restaurant they were currently approaching. Antonio simply smiled carelessly as he guided her inside.
"How many, sir?" a woman asked.
"How many does it fucking look like..." Lovina muttered in response as the woman shot her a dirty look. But seriously, what a stupid question!
"Cute. This way."
They were seated at a pleasant little booth, Italian music flooding quietly from speakers on the ceiling. Lovina's face was instantly buried in the menu (man, did she love free food) as she rifled through the choices, ignoring Antonio's attempts at conversation until one particular question caught her interest.
"So, how did your band get started?"
Ah, now there was a story Lovina wouldn't mind telling.
"Well, if you're that curious..." the girl started smugly, folding her menu as she rested her chin on steepled fingers.
~FLASHBACK~
Lovina eyed the girl up and down, having seen the punk every now and again in the hallways but never having talked to her. She was short, almost shorter than Lovina herself. The dirty blonde hair had been pulled into high pig tails, the ends still reaching the girl's elbows. Below a short black skirt she wore a pair of tight black leggings capped with two army-green combat boots, scuffed and dirty as though she'd been parading around the forest (though with her talk of faeries it was likely she had). Her off-the-shoulder shirt was gray and proudly displayed the words, "Kiss My Crumpet" in faded crimson lettering; around her neck a Union Jack tie hung loosely.
"What's your name again?" Lovina asked as the trio made themselves comfy on the Italian's queen-sized bed. In between them sat a large plate of cookies Feliciana had made upon her sister's arrival, and Alice rubbed her still sore nose where the red-head had socked her.
"Alice Kirkland, and yours?"
"Lovina Vargas, and this is my best friend Madeline Williams."
There was an awkward silence then, none too sure of what to say next.
"Um, aren't you d-dating Francis Bonnefoy? He's m-my cousin and-" Madeline piped, trying to make conversation as she clung tightly to a large, oversized polar bear (Kumakichi? Kumajojo?) in front of her.
"Was." Alice corrected suddenly, glancing away. "I was dating him."
"O-oh."
Another awkward minute passed.
"Well, um, I'm sorry for intruding. Thank you for your hospitality, Ms. Vargas."Alice muttered, unable to handle the silence and pushing off of the bed when suddenly she saw something that caught her eye.
"Are those...drumsticks?" she questioned, intrigued, reaching for the crossed pieces of wood on Lovina's side table. The moment they were firmly in her grasp, the Briton couldn't help but break out into a grin. She hadn't played the drums for months!
At her question, the other two girls perked up.
"Can you play?" they asked almost simultaneously. They had been in serious need of a drummer ever since Bella, a cute Belgian girl and childhood friend of Lovina's, had gone off to college.
"Yes, of course! Do you have a set?" Alice responded, as Lovina suddenly jumped up from the bed, plate of half-eaten cookies left in her wake.
"Hell yes I do! What songs can you play?" the Italian near-shouted, leading the group into her garage downstairs.
"Anything punk, really," came the response as the garage door was proudly thrown open.
Alice nearly hopped up and down in excitement upon seeing the shiny, red, almost unused drum set sitting in its pristine glory along the wall. Ever since her old drum set was utterly destroyed (Scotty, that bloody git, had forgotten the garage was off-limits for cars and had plowed down the set one drunken night while parking), she'd been growing quite antsy.
"My grandfather, that crazy bastard, used to play in a band." the Italian explained, gesturing to the variety of instruments scattered about as she handed Madeline an acoustic guitar. "Can you do the drums for Fences by Paramore?"
The Briton sat proudly at the drums, sticks at the ready.
"Of course!"
Lovina smirked.
"Alrighty then, I think we have ourselves a drummer. Feliciana, get your ass in here!" [A/N: Look up Fences by Paramore obviously...]
"I'm sitting in a room made up of only big white walls and in the hall
There are people looking through the window in the door
They know exactly what we're here for
Don't look up, just let them think
There's no place that you'd rather be
You're always on display for every to watch and learn from
Don't you know by now?
You can't turn back
Because this road is all you'll ever have
And it's obvious that you're dying, dying
Just living proof that the camera's lying
And oh, oh open wide
'Cause this is your night so smile
'Cause you'll go out in style (you'll go out in style)
If you let me I could
I'd show you how to build your fences, set restrictions
Separate from the world, the constant battle that you hate to fight, just blame the limelight
Don't look up, just let them think
There's no place that you'd rather be
And now you can't turn back
Because this road is all you'll ever have
And it's obvious that you're dying, dying
Just living proof that the camera's lying
And oh, oh open wide
'Cause this is your night so smile
Yeah, yeah, you're asking for it
With every breath that you breathe in
Just breathe it in
Yeah, yeah, well, you're just a mess
You do all this big talking
So now let's see you walk it
I said let's see you walk it
Yeah, yeah, well, you're just a mess
You do all this big talking
So now let's see you walk it
I said let's see you walk it
And it's obvious that you're dying, dying
Just living proof that the camera's lying
And oh, oh open wide
Yeah, oh, oh open wide (x2)
'Cause you'll go out in style (you'll go out in style)."
Lovina panted, a little out of breath from singing but elated nonetheless. She tried to think of what to say without sounded cheesy as shit (so no "Good job, girls!" or "We rock!" allowed) and settled for a simple, "Fuck yeah!"
~END FLASHBACK~
Antonio stared at her wide-eyed, surprised to have heard the girl speak so much in one single go. The band must really mean a lot to her.
The waitress had taken their orders and was already lugging out their dishes, placing them on the table much to the satisfaction of Lovina.
"Wow, Lovi, I've never heard you sound so happy before! We should play together sometime, you and I!" the Spaniard suggested, taking a stab at his fettucine alfredo while his (dare he say it?) date raised one slender eyebrow incredulously.
"You play, Bastard?" she asked, secretly impressed though she'd never say it. What? Every girl has a fetish for band members!
"Si! I can play drums and sing, though Gilly hogs the mic most of the time. Francis plays bass guitar and keyboard, a lot like his cousin, um...Margaret? Melanie?"
"Madeline," the Italian growled, no longer as impressed. Fuck fetishes, this boy was an idiot.
"Si, Madeline! Ah, Gilberto seems to really like her!" Antonio announced almost proudly, smiling like a fool as his foot accidentally brushed against Lovina's, making the girl cough uncomfortably and-
"Wait!" the girl shouted, interrupting Antonio's train of thought with her outburst. "That kraut likes Maddie? Oh, hell no! Wait, until Alfred hears about this. He's going to fucking shit his pants-" At the mental image, the Spaniard winced. "-and rip off that German's wurst!"
Yet again, another wince-inducing image. Antonio really regretted having such a big mouth.
"I thought he was dating that crazy Hungarian bitch?" the auburnette asked suspiciously, simmering at the idea of a nasty German fraternizing with her innocent, polar bear-hugging Canadian.
"On and off, but right now she's dating Roderich Edelstein."
"The piano whore?"
"Language, Lovi. But, yes."
Lovina raised a cannoli-covered fork towards the boy opposite her, eyes narrowed in warning.
"Whatever. Just make sure that red-eyed freak stays away from Maddie. She's too good for him." the Italian threatened as though Alfred wouldn't be enough to scare the albino off.
"Aw, that wasn't very nice, Lovi..."
Lovina stabbed him in the arm just as the check came. Upon opening it, Antonio swallowed nervously.
That's a lot of money. He thought, grimacing but deciding it was worth it. He'd gladly spend his week's wages on his fiery Italian!
When he placed three twenty-dollar bills on the table, Lovina frowned guiltily. She knew this place was expensive, but she still felt bad he spent so much money on her of all people!
Deciding it would be the nice thing to do, she pressed her foot up against Antonio's and kept it there. Of course, her face promptly caught on fire as soon as her ankle touched the hair on his leg, but if he was willing to pay that much he should get some human contact out of it. Antonio noticed the action and his tanned cheeks, too, caught color as he beamed idiotically.
"Aw, Lovi, did you want to play footsie?" the moron asked bluntly (not to mention loudly!), causing the girl to roar indignantly and kick him in the shin.
"Stupid Bastard! Way to ruin the mood!" she shouted before rushing off to the pickup truck, leaving a stunned, albeit happy, Spaniard in her wake.
-break-
Gilbert was not having fun.
Not at all.
How could he have fun when the girl he had started developing real feelings for (not just lustful feelings but real, I-like-your-personality type feelings) was having a very deep conversation on hockey with Ivan!
Being ignored was totally unawesome.
The final straw came when Ivan wiped away Maddie's cute milk mustache with his thumb, causing the two to double over in laughter. Sickening!
"That's it!" Gilbert screamed, standing up so quickly that his chair flew backwards; this proved a very effective way to gain the attention of half the Starbucks customers, though the albino didn't care in the slightest. "Commie, don't you have work to do?"
Ivan narrowed his frightening purple eyes at the Prussian, standing to his towering height of 6'5 in an attempt to intimidate the smaller man.
"Is there a problem, Comrade?" the Russian asked in a sickly-sweet voice.
"Hell yes, there's a problem. You're fat fucking ass is in my way, that's the problem!"
"Gilbert!" Madeline squeaked in horror, watching as the scene escalated from bad to worse.
"In your way to what? Madeline? She does not seem very interested in you at the moment, I am afraid."
Gilbert growled, using all of his force to shove the man backwards though he only forced him back a few feet; however, it was enough to successfully piss the Russian off and cause him to eagerly shove Gilbert in return.
"Leave Birdie alone, Braginski!"
"I could say the same to you, Beilschmidt."
"Please, stop it!" Madeline shouted, though she was easily ignored. "Hey! You guys!"
The two had resorted to physical shoving again, and the Canadian, sticking to her peaceful nature, attempted to intervene by stepping in front of Ivan. Which turned out to be an extremely awful idea, because just as she stepped forward Gilbert had sent his fist flying.
The punch, unfortunately, was solid, and the minute Madeline hit the floor all breathing in the room ceased.
"Shit, Birdie!" Gilbert cried, dropping to his knees beside the curled up girl. She was rubbing her chin, attempting not to sob but failing miserably as her assaulter tried to look at her face.
"Birdie, I'm-I'm so so sorry." the Prussian muttered earnestly as the girl stared up at him with watery violet eyes. "Shh, love, I'm sorry. Hush, baby doll. How's your chin? Does it hurt bad? I am so sorry."
Madeline touched his hand, which was probing her face for more injuries, gently, her lips quirking into a smile at his comforting tone.
"I-i-it's okay, Gilbert." she assured, rubbing his hand with her thumb as he stared down with guilty red eyes.
He knew it wasn't.