Oh, chapter 8 already... A little longer, at least.

"Yes, I know, Rome. I won't forget. Look, I'll show up this time, okay? Bye." Antonio looked up at Lovino from his place on the couch. He watched him disconnect the call on his cell phone.

"Was that your dad?"

"… Yeah." Lovino had never grown used to referring to his father as "dad". He sighed and plopped down on the far end of the couch. Propping his chin up with his palm, he leaned forward on his knees. Antonio saw the moodiness in his stormy eyes. He slid over to him.

"What was that all about?" For a moment, it seemed as if the other man would not answer. He was touchy about topics involving his family, Antonio knew, and he wondered what had provoked this latest reaction in his Lovi. Finally, the designer replied,

"Rome called to remind me about tonight's annual family dinner. He wanted to make sure that I would actually attend this time." He growled in frustration. "That was one time, one time when I didn't go! Why can't he accept that I'm an adult now and I don't need to comply with his every wish? I'm the one providing for the family, damn it! Without me, they would all be starving. Those ungrateful…" As Lovino ranted on, Antonio observed his surroundings with interest. His boyfriend's home was extremely large and spacious. It was furnished with modern-style architecture and furniture. Tasteful paintings adorned the sleek black marble walls, and a glass vase containing a bouquet of red roses (a gift from Antonio) stood starkly against the silver chrome counter. Lovi was so lucky to have all of this, but if he could only get along with his family he would be truly fortunate…

"Hey, Lovi?" Antonio asked dreamily. "What's your family dinner usually like?" He had never really been to one, after all, and his own parents were resting peacefully in their native Spain. Lovino stopped, looking surprised.

"Well…" He bit his lip and tried to think of a way to paint an accurate picture of the dinner table. "We gather at Rome's house at night: he, Germania, Feliciano, and I, and we basically sit down and have dinner."

"That doesn't sound so bad. Why do you hate it so much?"

"I… can't explain it." That was a lie, or course. Lovino could explain perfectly well that he found it awkward to eat dinner while staring his family in the face. He could elucidate with ease the sense of not belonging that he experienced when the rest of the diners chatted and laughed amongst themselves. And he was not above admitting that he had never felt comfortable in the company of the people who were and yet were not his family. Perhaps it was cowardice that hindered his tongue from telling Antonio all of this. Or it might be his sense of pride that forbade him from betraying his weak-hearted sentiments to someone else. Lovino hung his head in shame. Antonio put an arm around him.

"Aw, it'll be fun! It's just one family dinner every year, how bad could it be?" The other man drooped even more.

"I don't want to go," he mumbled. His companion pursed his lips.

"If only you had someone who could help you get through the dinner…" His eyes lit up. "What if I went with you?" Lovino straightened up, contemplating the idea reluctantly. Actually, it didn't seem like such a bad plan. At least if the others started chatting by themselves again, he would have some company.

"Alright," he conceded. Antonio let out a little "yay" and nuzzled Lovino searchingly for his mouth.

"It sounds fun!"

"We'll have to stop by Veneroma first," the designer muttered against the other's lips. "I'm not going to be accompanied by someone wearing a T-shirt and jeans."

Hours later, after Antonio had been fitted into a handpicked Veneroma suit by Lovino, the two were en route to the dinner party. As he switched lanes, the designer asked,

"Have you ever been to a dinner party?"

"Not a fancy one. Is this dinner party fancy?"

"… Slightly."

"Then what should I do?" Lovino realized that he was in no position to give behavioral advice. If anything, Antonio was more socially competent than he was.

"Just be yourself."

"Okay!" As they drew nearer to the house, Lovino felt a little bit of apprehension. What if his family did something to embarrass him? Worse, what if Feliciano brought his stupid macho potato freak and he was witness to said potential act of embarrassment? It was enough to make a person go mad. They had reached the house, however, so he reluctantly stopped the motorcycle and got off. Antonio followed him to the front door. He noticed his companion's body stiffen as he knocked. Lovino became as rigid as a brick wall when the door was opened by a large man who immediately tried to embrace him.

"Lovino! You came!" the man exclaimed, failing miserably in his attempt to envelope his son in his arms. "And who's this?" He peered curiously at the young man standing next to Lovino.

"This is Antonio. He's my…" Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Boyfriend," the aforementioned supplied helpfully. "Good evening, Mr. Vargas!"

"Call me Rome." The two shook hands. "It's nice to meet you, Antonio. I'm happy that Lovino has found somebody, though he neglected to tell me." Rome threw a pointed look in his son's direction. Lovino promptly ignored it.

"Isn't dinner starting soon?"

"Of course, how silly of me! Please come in." They were ushered into the house by Rome, who directed them into the dining room. Feliciano and Germania had already taken their seats. As Antonio greeted everyone, Lovino, after finding the seat closest to the door, just sat down and scowled. His father clapped his hands gleefully.

"Dinner will now be served!"

As Lovino had anticipated, the others at the table began to converse with each other midway into the meal. What he did not expect was that they dragged Antonio into their talk as well. He was responding animatedly to their queries and laughing along as if he had belonged to the family his whole life. Beside him, Lovino scowled even more and kept sinking down into his chair. He picked at the steak before him. How was it that Antonio seemed so much a part of a household he had just entered while he, one of the sons, was so distanced from it? The thought made his stomach roil. Meanwhile, Rome was eyeing Antonio's clothing.

"That's a nice suit you've got there. Very well tailored."

"Thanks! Lovi picked it out for me. He's such a great designer."

"'Lovi'?" Feliciano cheered. "How cute! Can I call you that too, Lovino?" His brother glared at him. Antonio continued,

"He is really cute! In private, at least. When we're in public he always acts really formal."

"Is that so?" Rome commented. "By the way, how's the business going, Lovino?" When the addressed did not reply, Antonio nudged him.

"Lovi, your dad is talking to you," he whispered.

"I know!" Lovino shot back under his breath. "I'm not a child, you don't have to tell me." He straightened up a little. "It's fine; we're doing alright."

"That's good to hear. I heard about some popular new fashions that were going around. Did you?" And somehow, Lovino was dragged into a conversation about fashion with his father. He was surprised; Rome had never seemed like the type who would know about such things. However, the man really knew quite a bit about the latest fashions and even made a few good suggestions for the clothing line. Lovino found himself getting wrapped up in the talk. For the first time since the beginning of dinner, he looked into his father's eyes. He noticed the warmth in the brown orbs, the spark of interest that danced in the inky black pupils. He also noticed the thin lines radiating from the corners of Rome's eyes, signifying the onslaught of age. When had his father become so old and tired looking?

The conversation came to a lull and they stopped. However, Lovino felt as if he had discovered something new about his father, something interesting and exciting that he had never noticed before. During the rest of the dinner, he observed the table's going-ons with more care. He saw how his father tried to include him in discussions with the rest of them. Had he always done that? Lovino could not remember. He also noticed how Feliciano always tried to ply him with more food or wine, how his brother bubbled with mirth and goodwill. He even took into account how Germania, silent as he was for most of the time, occasionally contributed to the conversations with an interesting tidbit of information or two. Lovino realized that his family was actually quite interesting. He had never felt closer to them before.

The dinner had roused up new feelings for Lovino about his family. Among them was curiosity. He began to wonder about Germania. For the most part, his father's tall, blond partner was an enigma to him. Was there a whole new side to this person? Therefore, when everything had been cleared away and Antonio had excused himself to go to the restroom, Lovino went up to Germania. Nonchalantly he commented,

"So, how was the dinner?"

"Nice. More lively than usual." His ice blue eyes focused in on the young man's features. Lovino almost gulped. He decided to come out with it.

"I don't know much about you, I've realized. Like what your real name is." The other paused. For a moment, Lovino believed that he had offended him. Then—

"Adalwin." The man gave a rare smile. Suddenly, he didn't seem as menacing as before. Even more sudden was the rush of exhilaration that Lovino felt. That one word was but a stalk of grass in a field, but still, it was a start. The two men nodded at each other and parted ways. Lovino spotted his father smiling at him out of the corner of his eye. He walked over to him. Rome was beaming.

"So you don't hate Germania!"

"Not as much as I thought I did, at least."

"That's okay too." His father looked at him contentedly. "You know I'm proud of you, right?"

"… Yeah." He had always known, he supposed; he just never paid any mind to it. "I know."

"I've never felt as close to you as I have today." That startled him. Me too, Lovino wanted to cry, but he knew he was too much of a coward. Instead, he nodded. There was silence for a while. A thought suddenly occurred to the designer, a dredging up of old memories and a desire to learn about the past.

"Hey… can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Rome replied, concerned at the tones of meekness and humility in his son's voice. "Ask me anything." It seemed as if it was hard for Lovino to talk about this, whatever he was going to say, as he looked to the side and clenched his hands into fists. He sighed and finally looked into his father's eyes.

"Mom… why didn't you stop her from leaving?" Tears and some anger were suddenly threatening to spill over, but he charged on bravely. "Why… when I was begging her not to go, why didn't you do anything?" After that he could not speak anymore, lest the tears flowed. Rome immediately grew infinitely weary. He sat down heavily on a nearby chair. The topic was difficult for him as well. After being quiet for a long time, he began to speak.

"Your mother… was a free spirit. She had her own ideas and her own ways of doing things, and she was stubborn. Very stubborn. But I loved her, you understand? We all loved her." He laughed a little but then turned sorrowful again. Sadness clouded his eyes and deepened the creases on his face. "I wouldn't have been able to stop her from leaving if I tried. And if I had used force, she would have become a broken husk of herself. On the day that she announced that she was leaving, I—I wasn't surprised. I'd already known about the affair weeks ago."

"Why didn't you put an end to it?" Lovino cut in. He seemed deeply troubled. Rome smiled gently, wistfully.

"How could I? She wouldn't have listened to me. In fact, she would probably have left sooner just to spite me." His mouth then drooped at the corners. He looked away as if in shame, hanging his head. "But the worst part was… I caused her to leave, Lovino. It was me." His voice faded to a whisper. "I was too overbearing. I regulated everything she did; I confined her within limited borders. She must have hated it, eventually hated me. That's why she left, son: it was because of me." Rome was shaking; Lovino realized that he was crying.

"Rome…" he murmured. The other man looked up at him with eyes bright with tears.

"She loved you, though; you and Feliciano. You two were the sun and moon for her. When she left, she told me to treasure you two like I'd never treasured anyone before." He paused, blinking rapidly. "She told me to treat you two better than I had treated her." He fell silent, sobbing soundlessly. After a moment's deliberation, Lovino put a hand on his shoulder. Rome looked up at the contact. His son opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again. The father laughed bitterly. "You'll never forgive me, will you? I understand. Just don't tell Feliciano yet, he—"

"It's okay." Lovino's face was set with determination.

"… What?"

"It's okay." Then, more quietly, he said, "I forgive you. Mom made her own decision;" And even though you dominated her life and made her leave, "It wasn't entirely your fault."

"Lovino, I—"

"Let's move on, okay? I think we've mourned over this long enough." He tried to smile through his tears. Rome stood up. He took a step closer. Then, he embraced his son.

And Lovino hugged him back.

"Not a day goes by without me thinking about your mother," his father murmured. "I hope she's happy wherever she is."

"Amen," Lovino choked out. He was crying hard. Rome held him until he regained his composure, then asked,

"So, did I do what she said? Treasure you two like no one else and treat you well?" Lovino recalled childhood memories when his father would comfort him through the lonely nights when he missed his mother, when he would patch him up and tell him funny stories after he fell off his bicycle. Rome had been a good father; it was he who had been a bad son.

"You did. And I'm sorry that I've been such a horrible child to you when you were the best father anyone could have. "

"Son…" His father held him even tighter. "You were wonderful. You still are. And," He grinned a little. "I'm glad that you've managed to find someone to be with. Antonio seems like a fantastic person. He's changed you, Lovino." Looking back on everything that had transpired, Lovino concluded the same thing: Antonio had changed him. He had made him a better person. In fact, he was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"Thanks… Dad." Rome's eyes lit up.

"I hope you two have a long, happy relationship. And visit more, won't you?"

"I will."

After he walked out into the hallway, Lovino spied Feliciano talking with Antonio. The latter looked up at the sound of footsteps.

"Lovi! Are you ready?"

"Yeah. Just hold on a little longer." He went up to Feliciano. "Hey, Feli." He had not used his sibling's childhood nickname in years. His brother pounced on him joyfully.

"You used my nickname!"

"Yeah." He patted Feliciano awkwardly on the back. "I just want you to know that I'll miss you when you go back to Italy. You've done a good job with the company."

"Wow, thanks!" What had come over his brother? Feliciano was starting to get a little worried. "Are you o—"

"And I guess I don't mind if you and the pota—Ludwig, hang out." His brother was frozen with shock for a moment. Then he hugged him with all his might.

"Oh, Lovino, that means a lot to me! Thank you so much!"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "You'd have done it anyway, I bet. But he'd better watch out if he does anything to hurt you; tell him that!" After he dislodged himself from his brother's arms Lovino tugged Antonio away and left, Feliciano's grateful cries still lingering in his ears.

"So, was the dinner party okay?" Antonio asked hopefully.

"It was great."

On the way back he reflected on everything. He owed a lot to Antonio. The man had helped him conquer his apprehensions and become close with his family again. He had given Lovino something else as well: attention. Antonio had showered affection on him and made him understand that life wasn't so bad when you had someone to share it with. Most importantly, he had showed Lovino that life was worth living. In those few minutes going from his father's house back into town, Lovino realized that he loved Antonio. But that was a confession to make another day; for now, he just wanted to express his thanks.

When Antonio got off the motorcycle after it stopped in front of his apartment, Lovino embraced him as tightly as he could. He seemed startled at first. Then Antonio smiled and wrapped his arms around the designer too, kissing him to show that he understood.

Umm... how was it?