Lovino's heart raced, as he jumped down the stairs at lightning speed. He'd glimpsed a wall-clock through Antonio's arms and holy fuck, it was late. He shook himself as he wondered why the hell he'd stayed there for so long.

As buses had stopped ages ago, and it was far too cold and late to walk, he called the number for the taxi service, and after waiting ten minutes managed to get into one of the vehicles. He closed his eyes as he sat in the back seat, head still freaking spinning over the day's events. He was really, utterly confused. Yeah, that was one way to put it. But.. shouldn't he have expected this? He was forewarned by Antonio that he wasn't… normal. He'd been told, and he should have expected something like this… after all, he'd asked for it in the first place.

'Maybe it's because I'm a human. Stuff like this doesn't happen to every day, regular people. I bet if I happened to be a… an elf or something, Antonio wouldn't be surprised. After all, he's practically immortal?' he thought, rubbing his temples. He just sighed. It wasn't that he doubted Antonio, or that he suspected him of lying… agh, why was it so hard for him to describe his feelings right now? One would think he was a high schooler going through puberty…

…and that was definitely something he didn't want to experience again, thank you very much.

He counted out his fare and handed it to the taxi driver, before trudging out of the car. He fumbled for his keys from his pocket, and let himself in the house.

Poking his head into the living room, he found it to be silent. Naturally, Feliciano would be sleeping.. it was something in the morning, after all…

"Spain," he muttered absently. "A country," he added, before closing his eyes and sighing.

He'd repeated that same fucking thought in his mind a fucktillion times, why wasn't it in his system yet? "Still looks like a fuckin' human to me," He sighed as he dumped what few belongings he carried with him onto his desk. A shower would have been nice… but if he did… there was no way he'd be able to sleep for the rest of the night. Not that it was looking good for him, regardless… "Fuck it," he thought, as he grabbed a clean shirt and a pair of shorts from his cupboard. He pulled his towel from the hook behind the door, before creeping out towards the bathroom.

"Why don't I just continue my life like I always have? Maybe I can just ignore the fact I'll be getting older and Antonio, who's already more than five fucking hundred years older than me is forever twenty-five," he scowled. Yeah, he was jealous of him for being forever in his twenties. And besides, being a country couldn't be that hard, right? Antonio didn't really do anything other than attend… well did he have to do anything? Meetings, perhaps?

Wait, what about wars? Did he go to war? But how long's it been since the last war? He was always bad at history, so none of those questions had an answer he knew. Shoving on his clothes, he messily dried his hair with his towel and jumped into bed without brushing it. That wasn't as important as his sleep. Plus, he was getting tired of the same thoughts drumming in his head.

But lying on his bed, he was affected by yet another problem. More so, Antonio as a person. Not as a country, but as a person. His words, which were uttered hours ago, still rang loud and clear in his ears. They drummed through his head, not leaving him alone, those moments refusing to leave his memory.

"Get out of my head and let me sleep, bastard!" he muttered to himself, pinching himself lightly as he turned over once more. He clenched his fingers, and frowned slightly. Biting his lip, he sighed. He'd never really been told that he'd been loved before – by someone other than his direct family, and Lovino knew he had some sort of feelings towards the energetic Spaniard. A week ago he'd have called it love. Now… he closed his eyes in defeat. He was just way too fucking confused to call it anything now. Why the fuck did emotions have to be so… retarded? He felt so girly for lulling himself to sleep by thinking about love. Ugh.

-x-

Thank god it was Saturday. Well, not that he worked anyway, but still…Lovino groaned as he rolled over his bed, and opened one eye to the digital clock on his nightstand. "God dammit," he muttered, as he slowly threw off the sheets and climbed out of bed. He should have grown out of sleeping until 1pm years ago, really.

He stepped out of his room, still groggy, and heard Ludwig's voice from afar. Shuddering, he retreated back through the door."Dammit, why does he always have to be here?" he asked himself, flopping back on his bed. And, having nothing else to do, he pulled out his guitar. Pulling the first string he felt, his eyes widened slightly. "What the…" he muttered, realizing that it was horribly out of tune. Frowning, he turned the little knob slowly…. Carefully…

"Ow! Fucking shit!" he cursed, snapping his hand back instinctively. He shook it, muttering under his breath, before realizing something else. "Oh you're fucking kidding me," he said blankly, as he pulled the now broken string between his fingers. Realization dawned on him, and he suddenly realized what he'd done. "Oh god, did I just… oh my god, fuck fuck fuck!" he exclaimed, fingers clenching. Dropping the guitar on his bed, he did the first thing that came to mind.

Which was, of course, call Antonio.

"Come on, bastard, pick up already!" he said into the phone. "Come on, hurry the fu- Hello?" he said loudly, as soon as the other end picked up.

"Lovi?" came Antonio's voice.

"Well yeah, it's my phone isn't it?" he scoffed. Wait, he couldn't get sidetracked. Damn Antonio and his contagious cheerfulness, able to influence even the likes of Lovino. "Um… well you see," he started awkwardly.

Silence on the other end indicated that Antonio was listening, and Lovino mentally swore. "Well I… I kind of…" he bit his lip. "I broke a string," he said finally.

Silence remained on Antonio's side of the line, when suddenly the sound filling the Italian's ears was the sound of hysterical laughter.

"S-shut up bastard! It's not fucking funny!" Lovino yelled, cheeks flushing red slightly. "I don't know how to fix it!" he complained, pouting slightly.

Antonio explained that he'd never had that problem before (bastard was probably lying) but that he'd like to see it.

"Why do you need to see it? You can't fix it… can you? I might as well just take it to a shop or something, right?" asked Lovino.

"Ahaha~ Lovi, you'd probably scare any shop owner to the point they'd close when they see you come around the corner~" he laughed.

This, however, didn't amuse Lovino. "Bastard, you're not funny," he frowned. "But fine, if you want to see it that bad I'll show you… I don't know, sometime soon," he sighed.

"Alright, see you soon!" came Antonio's voice, before the sound of a dial tone.

"Piece of…" he stopped himself. He felt like crap now, having broken a string trying to tune it. But, that's what happens when it's always Antonio who tunes this piece of …. This instrument.

"Goddammit Antonio, this is why I wanted you to teach me how to tune it myself," he mumbled, still holding the string between his thumb and index finger. Closing his eyes, he slumped forward in defeat. There went his peaceful weekend. Throwing it back in the case, he zipped it up and put it near the door. Great, now he was all hyped up and needed refreshment.

"Feliciano," he called, taking a few steps into the lounge. "Is there any food?"

"Lovino!" exclaimed Feliciano, putting down his bass and proceeding to envelope him in yet another 'bro-hug'. "You didn't come home last night, were you at Antonio's?" he asked worriedly.

"Y-yeah, just the usual happened," he muttered absently, checking his phone.

Feliciano's eyes lighted up. "Ooh, are you and Antonio-"

"W-wait, no! Not like that!" said Lovino hurriedly, looking around in case he happened to be listening. Ludwig was looking away, trying to be polite and tune out. "N-Not like that at all! I just fell asleep on his sofa, dammit!"

Feliciano merely grinned. "If you say so, fratello~" he said, before turning around. "Luddy just came over again, so there's a pizza in the oven," he explained, gesturing towards the blonde. At the mention of the German, Lovino's happiness meter (which was already low to start with anyway) dropped a few degrees. His lips pressed together slightly, and his eyes grew harder.

He had a question ask, but being the polite guy he was, would wait until his total airhead of a brother left the premises.

Which, thankfully, he did almost immediately after.

"I'll go check on it now, ve~!" he announced, giggling slightly, before sauntering out of the room, leaving Lovino alone with Ludwig.

The second the door closed, Ludwig opened his mouth to speak. "Look-"

"Ah, shush," Lovino snapped, pressing a finger to his lips, eyes glaring daggers towards Ludwig. "Let me speak first," he said, a mocking tone to his voice.

Ludwig frowned, eyes darkening slightly. "Fine," he simply replied, not showing any other emotion. Damn, he was good at masking how he felt.

Lovino thought he'd start easy, by dropping a few hints about what he was going to ask anyway. Better to start subtly, right?

Sitting back down on the sofa, Lovino took a breath in. Actually, fuck subtle. He didn't have time; it didn't take long to take a pizza out of the oven, even if you were Feliciano.

"So, are you a country?" he asked casually, as he picked up the previous day's newspaper from the coffee table.

Ludwig gave no reply, but merely swallowed in thought. He thought it would be a good idea to play unaware spectator card. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied, looking away slightly.

If any answer was going to piss Lovino off that day, it would be that one. Crumpling the newspaper to the side, he leapt off the sofa and took menacing steps towards the blonde. "Don't act like a dumbfuck, please. I already knew you were one, but really?" he asked, waving his arms in the air in frustration.

He saw Ludwig open his mouth to retort some other form of defence, but Lovino beat him to it. "Look, Antonio's told me everything, better to just spill now than get found out later, right?" he sighed, sitting back on the couch. "Or I could have mi fratello ask you," he added bitterly.

At that, Ludwig tensed slightly. Raising a hand to his forehead, he sighed. "Fine. Yes. I'm Germany," he said, clearly annoyed by these questions.

Although Lovino was prepared for this answer, the words still sent a shiver down his spine. Feeling slightly (not really) triumphant from finally getting a reply from this guy, he smoothed out the newspaper. "Then I'm guessing you haven't told him?" he asked.

At this, Ludwig looked slightly uncertain, and chose not to answer. And judging by the smug/angry look Lovino was giving him now, what Antonio had told him was right. Lovino was good at picking up hidden truths…

Dammit, why did Feliciano have to be such an idiot? Lovino frowned. He would have gone and told Feliciano right away, but he realized that his brother had a completely different outlook on the world to him, and was actually unsure how he'd react.

Sighing, he stood up. "Just don't hurt him, okay?" he asked quietly. Damn, he felt that those words sounded girly, so he decided to make them manlier. Somehow. "Or I'll … kill… no…" he paused for a bit, thinking. "Just don't do it," he decided. Since nothing he did would probably hurt the fucking country anyway.

He turned to walk out of the room, when the door slid open again. "Oh, Lovino? Where are you going?" cried Feliciano, running up to him with a plate of pizza in his arms.

"Just out… shopping centre or something," he said, grabbing a slice of pizza from the plate.

"Not to Antonio's?" asked Feliciano, biting into his slice.

Lovino stared, a feigned look of offense plastered on. "I have other friends, you know," he said, to his brother, and turned to Ludwig. "I still hate you, by the way," he announced, before stuffing the rest of his pizza in his mouth, and storming back into his bedroom.

-x-

Lovino's eyes traced over Antonio, watching the Spaniard turn the guitar a few times over. He watched as tanned fingers ran over the strings, shaking his head slightly.

"Wow, Lovino. I won't lie, you never cease to amaze me," he laughed lightly. "I played this for a lot longer than you did, and never broke it," he teased, putting it back in the case

The Italian felt his face turn red, before turning away from Antonio. "Bastard, it's your fault," he said accusingly. "If you didn't insist on tuning this instrument every time and actually let me learn how, maybe this wouldn't have happened!" he pouted.

"Ah, no matter. We can just go get it fixed, okay?" he said soothingly, giving Lovino a pat on the head.

"Bastard," Lovino muttered again, pushing Antonio away. Partly due to embarrassment and partly due to… being freaked at the unnaturalness that was Antonio. He shivered, reminding himself once more that he wasn't a human but Spain. He really hoped he'd get over it – completely over it – soon.

-x-

They sat at a small, wooden table with a chair on either side, next to the large window of the café. It was quaint, and quiet, for the café was quite empty. Not that he'd admit it, but Lovino rather enjoyed the peace and quiet; he wasn't really a friendly person apparently, so he was used to it. Staring at the menu, Lovino fidgeted around with his hands under the table.

"Well? Have you decided on anything you'd like?" came Antonio's voice.

"N-not yet, dammit! We came in like five minutes ago!" stuttered Lovino, scanning over the printed words again. Damn it, Antonio's gaze was all over him, and it was making Lovino nervous.

"Ah, okay, just take your time then~" he replied, as he called over a waitress. "Just a cappuccino thanks," he said calmly, giving her one of his killer smiles. Lovino watched as she blushed slightly, mumbled something, and ran off behind the counter. He didn't quite like this gesture, and kicked Antonio under the table.

"O-w-w! Loviii!" he complained, wincing slightly. "What was that for?" he asked, now rubbing his leg with his hand.

"As if you couldn't- "he started, but stopped. He slapped himself mentally; this was Antonio he was talking to. He wouldn't have noticed that girl's looks if she' d been three feet away from him. "Never mind, dammit," he pouted, hiding behind the menu.

The waitress returned, flicking her long blonde hair behind her shoulder as she passed the mug of coffee towards Antonio. "Here you go sir," he smiled, blinking several times. Lovino cleared his throat loudly, and the girl gave him a bored look. "Yes?" he asked.

"I'll have a latte, please," he said, shooting her a look.

She frowned at him slightly, before returning to her overly-cheerful mode. "Sure thing, coming right up!" she winked, as she turned away back towards the counter.

After shooting a death-glare at the waitress, Lovino could enjoy peace, quiet, latte and Antonio without interruption.

"So Lovino," began Antonio, watching the Italian carefully.

"Yes?" he replied, placing his cup down.

"Well, you see," he said sheepishly, laughing slightly and a hand scratching his head. Lovino tutted. "Well I was wondering… you know how your hair… there's always this bit of hair that sticks out," he laughed.

Lovino suddenly had a serious expression on his face. "And?" he said shortly.

"Well… uh, do you like gel it up every day or something? Or … does it … always stay like that naturally?" he asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

Lovino had to look away to avoid those large, green eyes that belonged to the Spaniard. "It's just some stupid… I don't know, genetic defect or something," he decided. "My brother and I both have one, and … it doesn't do any- CHIGI!" he cried, and he felt it get tugged by a pair of hands. "B-bastard! W-w-w-what the hell do you think you're doing, dammit!" he swore, slapping Antonio's hand away from him.

Surprised, Antonio jerked back. "Whoa, calm down Lovino! I'm sorry, I didn't know that I'd get that kind of reaction from you!" he laughed, a faint blush creeping to his cheeks. Lovino didn't dare see his reflection, be knew that it was probably red as red could be.

"Fuck you!" he frowned, crossing his arms.

The two talked about everyday things, ranging from the weather to the soccer league to the latest episode of a television drama. They left the café at about two-thirty, and Antonio really wanted to go the to fucking park. "What the fuck?" Lovino thought, as he walked behind the overly-cheerful, caffeine crazy Spaniard, who was currently in the process of dramatically walking down the path. "The park, really?" he sighed.

The two sat on a park bench, the sun shining lightly upon them. Lovino was asking questions about 'countryism', as he called it, and Antonio was answering them as they came.

"Before you were sick and that was because of your country's economy," he started. "Can you get sick without it affecting Spain?" he asked.

"Ah, about that… I can get sick due to my country, for example if there was an outbreak of the flu there I'd most likely get it too… but if there's an outbreak of flu here in U.S.A., I could catch it as a human, but it won't affect my country because geographically-"

"Okay, I get it!" laughed Lovino. It actually surprised him how smart Antonio could sound sometimes, using such big words like 'geographically'.

…Well English was never one of Lovino's best subjects either. And geography had a lot to do with Antonio.

"You're cute when you laugh, Lovi," Antonio smiled.

This statement caused Lovino to blush. "S-shut up, dammit!" he pouted. Antonio merely laughed in response. "W-what's Italy like?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, Italy?" replied Antonio. He hummed. "He's a bit like you, actually," he laughed. "Short tempered, insists he's stylish and all that…"

"Hey, are you suggesting that I'm not stylish?" questioned Lovino, a look of feigned offense.

"Ahaha, no not at all, Lovi!" he smiled, lowering his hand. It happened to fall on top of Lovino's, causing the Italian to blush furiously. But neither of them moved their hands away.

-x-

LAME SEXUAL INNUENDO AND ENDING IS LAME, REFLECTS THE AUTHOR …

No guitar = Toni and Lovi fluff bonding time c; *SHOT*
AND THERE'S THE ANSWER TO YOUR QUESTIONS; ITALY IS ANOTHER GUY. Only one, because when Italy unified , the other one disappeared. Yeah I'm horrible, I know.

OKAY SO SCHOOL OCCUPIES MY TIME, MAN. EVERY DAY I HAVE LIKE 3 HOURS OF FREE TIME AFTER I GET HOME. So I'm sorry ; e ; ~ And you all probably hate me because this is a kind of filler chapter but I'll say this; I think it's too early to jump to the next part of the plot .But I promise there's plot in the next chapter and I'll update quicker, definitely!

STAY COOL BY REVIEWING. (: YOU PEOPLE ARE AMAZING!