"We're getting married," were the words that flew past Lovino's lips as he stabbed his lasagna, leisurely imagining that stupid German's face.
It was a shame potatoes didn't spew from the plate, along with that damn bastard's blood and guts. Though he wouldn't want to eat entrails (he wasn't some goddamn cannibal) it would be satasfying to see his newly titled "fiance" dead and gone.
Spitting out his water, sparkling droplets falling all over their disgrundled grandfather, Feliciano turned his wide eyes to his older brother, an incredelous expression overtaking his face.
This made Lovino's heart - albeit cold, black and shrivelled- warm with the vibrant glow of pride. A small, miniscule smile curled over his lips, but he covered it quickly with a sweaty palm.
"That's legal now?" The smile vanished as he remembered how dumb his brother was.
Sarcastically, though in good humor, he jibbed, "Yes, Feliciano, we're getting married in Jersey and having gay butt-babies and you'll be their baby mommy while I go out drinking."
Casually taking a large gulp of water and completely ignoring his exasperated nonno, he looked seriously into his brother's uncomfortable looking face.
Way to easy, he thought as he fought not to smile, lest his brother witness it. He was friends with one of the biggest gossips at their school, and he learned the art of gossip to a perfection.
If he saw, the entire town would know in two days. With a murder of girls at his bidding, Feliciano could move mountains.
Though all he did was talk endlessly about the couples he dubbedc the most adorable, he had a soft spot for preaching about Lovino's good brotherly nature. (Although, his reasioning was biased according to most people.)
The last thing he needed was his bad boy cred being ruined. He needed the female population's attention to survive, and girls love a bad boy. He couldn't live with being a good boy like his brother; sweet, innocent and oblivious were three things he definitely wasn't.
"Come my love," he crooned dramatically, placing a hand on his chest and getting one knee. "let us go to Paris and make love under the stars."
Ignoring his brother's horrified shriek, he leaned over and slapped the back of his head, rolling his eyes as Feliciano let out a relieved sigh.
"You should know I'm never serious around you." He paused for a moment, a smirk sliding over his lips. "Unless its about the potato bastard. That's the fucking truth."
His grandfather, who he had forgotten about during his playful conversation, cleared his throat. Rubbing his eyes and turning a blind eye to Lovino's triumphant smile, he let out a weary sigh.
"As you both know," he began, staring at them piercingly, amber eyes hardening, "we have been having... complications with our business."
He folded his arms, a calloused hand rubbing his half-formed beard. "Due to these problems, I am forced to-"
Lovino cut him off, mocking shock riddling his gasping tone, "Make us male mail-order brides."
Twirling his spaghetti around with a silver fork, he took a large bite, obnoxiously stuffing his face so as not to answer to his grandfather's stern glare.
"What?" he implored in an innocent questioning tone, blinking doe-eyedly at Romulous. "It's true."
Looking to Feliciano, Romulous continued his reasonings in hopes he would understand and not reject the solution as quickly as Lovino had. "Don't listen to him, he's just jealous he can't have you all to himself."
He affirmed he was the winner when Feli hummed in understanding as Lovino turned red in anger and embarassment. "You are the fairest in the land," he went on, rejecting his own smirk when Lovino pulled a face, darkening into a maroon color.
"Dumb old man," Lovino sputtered lamely, "it's your fault I'm marrying a potato bastard."
Barring his teeth, he swiftly stated with metaphorical claws unsheathed, "I am not eating his wurst behind the school, no matter what that gossiping, Polish bastard says."
His grandfather scoffed. "You act as if that's the basis of my reasoning." A reproachful eyebrow was lifted in curiousity. "It's not!" He folded his arms in an attempt to look serious and authoritive. "My thinking was not based off you giving Ludwig a blow-"
"-up pool," Lovino hissed, flickering his eyes towards Feliciano, the only virgin in the house. Thankfully he continued petting their cat, who writhed and scratched with nonexistent claws, doing nothing to deter Feliciano in his love escapade.
Tapping his shoulder delicately, Lovino retracted his brother away from the feline, who fell to the floor in a mangled pile of screeching fur, running off to hide under Lovino's bed, scheming and plotting a sucessful route to launch himself at the elder Vargas brother.
The cat, albeit loathed Feliciano, found an amourous desire for Lovino, who, in turn, found every reason possible to hate the cat, even going as far as to make the effort to poison the cat's brother, the idiot he was, tried to devour the food, and he panicked, made his brother spit it out, saying that he'd turn into a cat if he ate the catfood. He did, and Lovino made an effort to tolerate the tabby.
Sighing gently, Lovino dropped his silverware to the plate. "I'm going to bed," he stated tiredly, scooting backwards in the chair, he rose, watching his brother exaggeratedly waved goodbye.
"Don't forget to set your alarm Lovi," his grandfather called, laughing at the insult hurtled in his direction.
"FUCK YOU!"
