A.N.: This story keeps growing longer than I expect. Hopefully it'll be done by chapter 3. As always, feel free to point out any grammar or spelling issues.

The literature example used here is not mine and is based on an actual short story.

"Why are you following me?" Lovino muttered, tossing a glance over his shoulder.

Picking up his pace hadn't stopped Elizaveta from following him, and he didn't dare to bluntly ask her to get lost; she seemed insistent on keeping his company. Her forehead was creased in a concerned frown, a look of seriousness he wasn't used to seeing her in. "You look upset, Lovino," she said, quickly catching up to him. "Where are you going now?"

"The botanic garden, like that asshole wrote on the letter."

Elizaveta caught hold of his arm, forcing him to stop. "Calm down. Why are you so angry at this person?"

"Because he's making fun of me! Can't you see?" Lovino jerked away from her, crossing his arms across his chest like a shield. "I just want him to leave me alone!"

"You don't know that," she said. "These letters you're getting may or may not be real, but the least you could do is give them a chance!"

"Why? So you can all have a good laugh at me? Is that it?" It was a second later that Lovino realized his eyes were pricking with tears. "D-Dammit," he muttered, and quickly spun the other way.

"Lovino," Elizaveta said softly, and then her hand was on his shoulder, coaxing him to turn. She took hold of his arms and pried them from his face. "Lovino, sweetie, why are you crying?"

This was humiliating. Lovino knew he should have gone back home and ignored the letter, but his own curiosity got the best of him again. It was easy to pretend the real reason he followed the letter's instructions was to intimidate the culprit into leaving him alone. But in reality, a tiny part of him wanted to believe someone actually did take the time to show some interest in him, as stupid as it was.

"Sh-shut up! Leave me alone!"

Elizaveta sighed. "Listen, let me tell you something…"

"No, I don't want to hear it!" Lovino didn't think things could get any worse, but then…

"Lovino—?" a voice interrupted them "Hey—what's going on? Why are you crying?"

Elizaveta went still and muttered a curse under her breath. "Change of plans, Alfred. Give us five minutes."

But the damage had been done.

It was bad enough he had started crying in front of a girl, and now another person had caught him in such a state. Lovino jerked away as if he hadn't been leaning into her hug and turned his glare on Alfred. "The fuck are you doing here?"

Ignoring his question, Alfred stormed forward and, much to his horror, grabbed hold of his shoulders. Lovino squeaked in protest, but fuck—Alfred's grip was unbreakable like iron. The eyes that were usually sparkling with playfulness were now sharp and focused, and Lovino swallowed heavily. Had he unintentionally broken some no-crying-in-public law?

"What's wrong?" Alfred asked. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

"W-What the fuck?" Lovino turned to Elizaveta for help, but she had just smacked her forehead in exasperation, rolling her eyes despite the slow smile spreading across her face. "Get away from me! I-It's not any of your business!"

"Dude, don't cry. Tell me what's wrong."

"I-I'm not crying!" Lovino insisted.

"What do you want? Ice cream? Pizza? A hug?"

"No!"

Unfortunately, no one seemed to be listening to his preferences that day. Alfred threw his arms around him anyway, trapping Lovino and forcing his face over Alfred's shoulder, where he was forced to smell Alfred's stupidly attractive cologne and something else that reminded him of cotton candy. He could see Elizaveta snickering in the background.

Lovino's face flamed red. "Let go! I said—I said I'm not crying, dammit!"

And to his surprise, he really wasn't. It wasn't because Alfred's hug was warm or that he was pleasantly surprised someone—albeit nearly a stranger—cared so much. It was just the fact that Alfred had so thoroughly baffled his head that all his thoughts had been scrambled and he forgot what he was crying about in the first place.

Alfred pulled back to take a look at his face, and Lovino instantly covered it. He must look hideous, with his runny nose and blotchy cheeks, though Alfred seemed satisfied with what he saw.

"Great! I'm glad you feel better, but maybe I should buy you an ice cream just in case." Alfred outstretched an arm, as if he was actually serious about taking him out, right then and there. Either the guy was weirder than Lovino remembered, or he planned to "forget" his wallet at the last minute to trick Lovino into giving him a free ice cream cone.

His head swiveled to Elizaveta to shoot her a look of disbelief, but she returned it with a thumbs up and a nod. Was she telling him to say yes? God, he had the most embarrassing friends ever!

"Are you joking?" Lovino pummeled Alfred's chest until he managed to get him to let go, and then took a few hasty steps back. "Of course not!"

"What? Hey—" Alfred stepped forward and caught his arm before he could move away. "Okay, maybe the ice cream was a little soon, but I didn't even get to talk to you yet!"

"Talk?" Lovino raised his eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"The messages! You know—the one that told you to meet me here in the botanical gardens."

"Wait, what?—message—you?" Lovino blurted out, just as quickly as everything clicked in his head. He took a step back, sputtering in disbelief. "You were—you were the one writing them?"

Alfred grinned broadly. "Yup! Sure thing! I know it must seem weird and all, considering we haven't really talked in forever. Actually, we never really talked before, other than about schoolwork, but—Ow!" Alfred lunged back, holding a hand over his cheek.

"Lovino!" Elizaveta snapped, rushing forward to check Alfred's face.

"Why…Why'd you hit me?" Alfred appeared stunned, like a kicked puppy.

Lovino's gaze flickered between the two of them, disconcertingly aware of their reproachful stares. Why were they looking at him like that? He wasn't the bad guy. It was "—Alfred—!" Lovino brandished his finger accusingly at him. "This is his fault! Do you really expect me to believe that load of crap? I know I was a dick to you, but that happened ages ago! Why can't you just let it go and end this stupid prank?"

Alfred's jaw dropped, and for a moment he could only manage a few choked sounds. "Wha—prank? What are you talking about? It wasn't a prank!"

"Then what the hell was it?" Lovino demanded.

"I meant it—every word! I've liked you since middle school, Lovino. I know it sounds crazy, but I never forgot you. After the last letter, I didn't know if you felt the same or not, and I just couldn't forget it. You have no idea how happy I was when I found out from Elizaveta you went here too!"

Lovino turned his glare on Elizaveta. "You—I can't believe you knew about this! How do you know him?"

"Chemistry class," Alfred offered.

"I—that's just—b-but why? Why would you even like me?"

Elizaveta smacked her forehead. "Alfred, maybe you should put this off for a bit. Lovino isn't in the best of moods."

Alfred shook his head furiously. "No! I have to tell him now! I don't want to put it off any longer!"

Lovino felt cornered, the two of them surrounding him and speaking at him, like he was incapable of thinking for himself. He gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might shatter. "You—You—I don't believe it! I don't want to hear it!"

Elizaveta took a deep breath. "Give him a second to talk, Lovino."

"No!" Lovino shook his head viciously. "I said I don't want to fucking hear it! It won't change the way I feel! I honestly just want to be left alone! Those letters were stupid and annoying!"

The silence was broken by Lovino panting after his rant. He didn't understand why—he had every right to say what he did, didn't he? —but he felt a pang of guilt as he saw Alfred's face collapse. His grin was still in place, but his eyes were glistening suspiciously.

"Alfred, are you okay?" Elizaveta asked. She turned toward Lovino and opened her mouth, but it was too much for him—all at once. Lovino didn't want to hear her yell at him, he didn't want to be responsible for Alfred crying. "That wasn't nice, Lovino," she said, lacking all the fury he expected. All he heard was…disappointment. And somehow that was much worse.

Lovino shook his head, choking, "I…I'm going home."

He didn't wait for a response. He ran.

Lovino expected Elizaveta to drag him back for an apology, or at least Alfred to plead for another chance—he had never given up before. But as he rounded a corner, wheezing, and tossed a glance over his shoulder, he didn't spot either of them.

Neither of them chased after him.

It should have given him relief, but instead a prickle of worry squirmed inside his gut. He had intended to bring an end to the situation, but even though everything was more or less over, nothing felt resolved.

Wasn't this what he wanted? To get the letter writer to leave him alone? Then why didn't he feel satisfied?

The next day Alfred came prepared. He had his letter in hand, but he didn't want to directly hand it to Lovino. Lovino wouldn't accept it if he knew it came from him, and that plan would no doubt end in his message being torn to shreds without a second glance. He had to trick Lovino into reading it. But how?

Throughout class, Alfred kept waiting for the perfect opportunity. Perhaps a moment where Lovino stood up to sharpen his pencil, or left to use the restroom. Twenty minutes went by, and then Lovino finally rose from his desk, taking a long breath. He began moving to the bathroom pass, and then Ms. Keleman cleared her throat.

"Lovino, can I have a word with you please?"

Lovino mumbled his consent before shuffling over.

Dammit, dammit, dammit. His backpack was in clear view of the teacher, so now Alfred couldn't sneak over without at least one of them noticing him. He bit his lip with impatience, drumming his foot against the floor.

Lovino wasn't doing much of the talking, but as Ms. Keleman spoke his expression grew more and more displeased. All of a sudden, he shot a glance at Alfred before scowling and nodding to whatever he was being told to do. Once Ms. Keleman smiled and patted his hand, Lovino returned to his seat, a sour expression on his face.

Alfred looked expectantly at the bathroom pass. Lovino was supposed to leave the classroom! But apparently, it wasn't bad enough for him to remember. The rest of the period passed with Lovino glaring at his desk, and Alfred pursing his lips as he stared at the letter in his hand.

When the bell finally rang, he nearly leaped out of his skin. He had been so lost in his thoughts he had lost track of the time. He bent over to hurriedly cram his things into his backpack, his notebook, a stray pencil, and…the letter.

The room was already bustling with students rushing out the door, and Alfred wasn't aware of the footsteps moving towards him until someone spoke.

"Hey, bastard."

His jerked straight up. "Lovino!"

"Yeah." Lovino frowned, looking anywhere but at him. "So…your stupid test is coming up, and you obviously suck at this class. I'm being forced to tutor you, and we're going to study tomorrow after school."

"Uh…" Alfred stuttered, glancing quickly at Ms. Keleman, who nodded approvingly. "I…I…okay. Wait, how about today—"

"No. Tomorrow afternoon, or else I'm telling Ms. Keleman you refused to cooperate."

Alfred hummed in thought, and then broke into a smile. "Okay, tomorrow!"

Lovino frowned, clearly not having expected such a response. "4 p.m., outside the library. If you don't show up on time, I'm leaving."

It actually turned out to be Lovino who was late. Alfred rushed after his last class, and managed to get to the library by 3:30. He pulled out his phone and played around with some of the games as he waited. He eventually grew so immersed he lost track of time. When he finally recalled his surroundings, he realized it was 4:25. A wave of panic shot through him. Had Lovino showed up when he wasn't paying attention, and decided to leave? Shit, he hadn't even asked for his number. There was no way he could call him and ask him to come back.

Maybe he could apologize to Lovino the next day and try again? This time he would leave his phone in his pocket, so he wouldn't ignore Lovino again. That is, if Lovino gave him another chance.

Alfred dropped his head and sighed. The letter was still in his backpack, but his chances of delivering it to Lovino weren't high. He had screwed up, hadn't he?

A bicyclist rode past him, and Alfred followed his figure down the sidewalk. His head jerked up when he saw one familiar figure, trudging along with a fixed frown and glaring at everyone. He sent an exceptionally sharp glare to the bicyclist, before he noticed Alfred and flipped him off.

Alfred jumped to his feet, unable to restrain the wide grin spreading across his face, and jogged towards him. "Lovino, you decided to come back!"

Lovino raised his eyebrows. "What the fuck are you going on about? I just got here now."

"Oh." Alfred shook his head, laughing. "I must have got the wrong time. I thought you said 4:00 p.m., not 4:30."

"Yeah, I did say 4:00 p.m. What's your point?" Lovino shoved past him. "Now hurry up and get inside. I'm not wasting more time than necessary."

"Sure thing!"

Alfred had expected it to be easier to slip the note inside with Lovino's backpack a few feet away from him, but somehow he had also missed the fact that Lovino would also be a few feet away from him. And with his sharp eyes within such close proximity, Lovino speaking directly to him, it was hard for Alfred to focus on anything, let alone secret plans.

"Are you even listening?" Lovino smacked the side of his head, and Alfred jolted up for what could have been the fifth time that hour.

"What? I mean, y-yeah, of course!"

"For fuck's sake, you don't even care about this, do you?"

Alfred's gaze drifted down to the backpack. He just needed Lovino to leave for a few minutes, maybe to get a book or answer a call. "N-No, that's not it! Of course… of course I care."

Lovino raised an eyebrow challengingly. "Okay, then which author was I just talking about just now?"

"Um…" Alfred squirmed in his seat. "The…the one. What's his name? W-Walter? No…Edgar? Edgar Adam…Pow?"

Lovino smacked his forehead and muttered a curse under his breath. "That's it! I give up!" he snapped, snatching his backpack from the table and jumped to his feet.

"What? Hey—where are you going?"

"I'm done with this! You don't care, and I don't care if you pass or fail." Lovino spun around, his lip curled in a snarl that made Alfred gulp. "And if you dare tell Ms. Keleman I walked out on you, I'll…I'm going to—I'll make you s-sorry!"

Alfred blinked. Hm... That didn't sound too intimidating. But the fact that Lovino was upset, and it was his fault caused him to flinch. He caught Lovino's sleeve.

"Hey…I'm sorry. You're right, I'm an idiot. English just isn't my subject. But don't go. I swear I'll read the story right now— just give me a minute!" A sudden idea popped into his head. "Yeah, why don't you go downstairs, and…think about how stupid I am! In the meantime I'll finish reading, and then we can try again."

"I don't know…" Lovino had his hand around his backpack, frowning. "What if I have better things to do?"

"Will I convince you if I…uh…" Crap, judging by the way Lovino's glare intensified, his argument wasn't very swaing. What reason could he give? "What if I… Maybe you could…"

After another minute of his hopeless sputtering, Lovino snorted and threw his backpack to the ground. "Tell you what. Give me five dollars. I'll walk across the street and treat myself to some ice cream. You have until I finish eating to do the assignment."

"Okay, sounds great!" The first thing Alfred was going to do once he got home was hug his mom for giving him his weekly lunch money in advance. He fumbled through his pocket and pulled out five crinkly one dollar bills, which he thrust into Lovino's palm. "I'll be an expert by the time you get back!"

Lovino gave him an unreadable look. "I highly doubt it."

Despite what he said, Lovino didn't immediately return to his flat. He headed to the parking lot, and took his car for a drive around the city, going nowhere in particular.

Antonio could be clueless, but he would notice that Lovino lacked the energy to snap back at his comments. And once he realized something was wrong, he would find some way to coax the truth out of him. Antonio was clever like that; his idiocy caused others to unintentionally lower their guard.

Since Antonio was generally an early sleeper, Lovino hoped he would be in bed by the time he returned home. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, and judging by the expression on his face, Belle had told him what happened.

"You're home late," he said.

Lovino groaned. "Leave me alone," he grumbled, storming past him to get to his room. "I don't want to talk about it, and I'm free to make my own decisions!"

"Of course you are," Antonio said without skipping a beat. "But you shouldn't go to bed on an empty stomach. I made too much for myself. Arroz de tomate. You like that, don't you?"

Lovino paused by the doorway, and took a hesitant glance over his shoulder. "You planned this, didn't you?"

Antonio simply smiled. "I'll get you a bowl, okay?"

After a moment of hesitation, Lovino sighed and slumped down on the couch. What the hell, if Antonio was going to cook and serve him he might as well deal with it. The questions were going to come sooner or later, and he may as well get them over with. It's not like they could stop him from doing what he wanted.

Antonio returned a moment later, bowl in hand. Lovino accepted the meal, if only because his stomach was growling and not at all because he enjoyed Antonio's cooking.

"So," Antonio began, taking a seat across from him, "how was today?"

Lovino took his time chewing. "…Okay."

"Did anything interesting happen?"

"No."

"Did you meet any cute boys?"

Lovino took a long breath. "Antonio, you don't need to try being subtle. If you have something to say, spit it out already."

"Ah, okay! If you say so! So…" Antonio cleared his throat. "…Your admirer was the boy you knew in middle school?"

"Yeah," Lovino muttered between his mouthfuls, "it was him."

"How did his confession go?"

Lovino paused, holding the spoon out before him. He had never actually heard what Alfred had to say, but that wasn't his fault. He chose his words carefully. "You know how it went."

"I have an idea how it ended, but that doesn't tell me what you felt," Antonio said.

"Fine, it was…" Terrible? Awful? Embarrassing? Lovino couldn't decide which word fit best, and remembering the incident only made his heart flutter like something was wrong, when it wasn't. "It was…troublesome."

Antonio tutted sympathetically. "You don't like him?"

Lovino shrugged. "I don't think so. I mean, it's not that he's a bad person, it's just…" Antonio raised his eyebrows. "N-No, I don't l-like him at all!"

"Oh, that's too bad," Antonio said. "You shouldn't feel bad for rejecting him, since you heard him out. You're not obligated to date someone you don't like, but I hope you were polite when you rejected him."

Lovino swallowed heavily. "Y-Yeah…of course I was!"

Alfred waited a good five minutes after Lovino left, just to ensure he didn't change his mind and return for his things. Once he had made certain no one was watching, he tugged Lovino's backpack toward him and unzipped it. He was just going to put the letter in and close it up—that was it. Hopefully, Lovino would read it before realizing what it was. He had cleverly left out his name so Lovino wouldn't throw it away without reading it.

But once he had Lovino's open backpack in his hands, the urge to peek inside was overwhelming him. Invading someone's privacy was a totally unheroic thing to do, but…Alfred was curious to know what kind of person Lovino was. The type of notes he took, his own private doodles—all insignificant details, but when brought together spoke a lot about a person.

Taking one more glance to confirm he was alone, Alfred reached in and drew out the first notebook he got his hands on. There wasn't a subject labeled on it, but inside the pages he found a lot of writing. Lovino's English class, maybe? It looked a lot more exciting than Alfred's class, since most of the pages were filled with interesting stories. Without the little doodles drawn by the side or the occasional sarcastic note, Alfred might have mistaken the notebook as someone else's. Some of the stories were a paragraph long, others took up pages. However, most of them shared a similarity of being sweet and funny. Who knew Lovino wrote such funny and romantic things?

Alfred was thoroughly immersed. Normally it took a locked room and absolute silence before he could build up enough concentration to get through a sentence, but these words flowed through his mind with ease. It was only when he flipped to a page with scribbled out writing, a poem, that Alfred realized he wasn't looking at a notebook for a class.

With a feeling akin to guilt, he returned the notebook to Lovino's backpack. He shouldn't be reading anyone's secrets, least of all Lovino's; unlike his coarse speech, his writing was undoubtedly sincere, and caused Alfred to feel a thousand times worse for sneaking through it. If he was going to read Lovino's journal, he wanted it to be because Lovino trusted him with it, not through tricks like this.

His eyes drifted down to the desk, slightly afraid to turn back to the backpack, and—Shit! He was supposed to be reading his assignment, and at least fifteen minutes had passed without him starting. Lovino could be back any minute and he wasn't going to be happy if he found out Alfred lied to him.

He hurriedly flipped through the pages until he reached the short story he was expected to read, and with the threat of a pissed Lovino, Alfred was able to finish minutes before Lovino returned. He looked a bit perkier after having his fill of ice cream, but he still glowered at Alfred as he took his seat.

"Alright then, let's hear what you've read."

"Uh, okay." Alfred flipped back to the right page. "The first story is about a guy who was hired to take inventory for some elderly lady, and he finds this painting of a beautiful woman. He gets really obsessed with the picture, and when he finds out the woman in the picture is actually the elderly woman, he kills her."

"Not a fucking summary. Explain the protagonist's character. What drove him to kill his employer, if nothing was stolen?"

"It seemed like…the guy wanted to preserve things as they were—in their height of youth. That's why he killed the old lady, because her existence reminded him of time and age, and he wanted to pretend that didn't exist."

Lovino nodded, looking somewhat impressed. "I guess you do shape up after all," he muttered.

The rest of the hour passed in relative ease, and soon the insults began to disappear as Lovino rambled on about the subject, and different techniques of figurative language, and other things Alfred barely heard because Lovino seemed so relaxed when he was talking about something he loved.

It was only when Lovino shut the book that Alfred remembered to blink.

"Huh? What's happening?"

"I've got to get home now," Lovino said, before zipping up his backpack and stepping out of his seat.

"Already?" Alfred would have gladly spent the rest of the evening with him, even if it meant more reading.

"Yeah. I already stayed an hour longer than I planned to, and I could be doing better things with my life."

"What if I need more help?"

It seemed his pleading look didn't work, as Lovino simply snorted. "You'll do fine."

With that, he tossed his backpack over his shoulder and paced the other direction. He didn't say goodbye, but the compliment was better than anything Alfred could ask for. He watched Lovino until he disappeared from sight, and then stood up himself. It was only when he reached into his backpack for his cell phone that it struck him.

Lovino's letter was still inside his backpack.

There was no Lovino in class the next day, nor the day after. Finals had already started, so Alfred didn't think Lovino could purposely be skipping class, and he still didn't find an opportunity to ask Lovino for his number so he couldn't call him. Finally, on the third day, he built up the courage to directly ask his English teacher.

He cleared his throat by her desk, once most of the students had shoved their way out the door. "Uh, hey! Ms. Keleman?"

Her eyes flashed up from the paper she was grading and she smiled at him. "Hello, Alfred. Do you have another question?"

"Yeah, kind of. I was wondering where Lovino is."

Ms. Keleman tutted softly. "The 8th graders have a different final schedule, and Lovino should be prepping for his graduation. I guess that means I'll have to grade all your papers myself. Still, it's exciting moment for him, don't you think?"

Lovino…graduating. The implication of that statement struck Alfred hard. Lovino wouldn't be in the same school as him next year.

"When…When do you think he's coming back?" he asked.

"To this classroom? If you need another tutoring session you can return to my classroom after school. TAs were dismissed a few days ago…I believe the day I assigned Lovino to tutor you. Did it go well? I know he can be a bit hotheaded, but he understands the subject and I felt you could use the help." She smiled after a moment. "Alfred?"

"Oh…uh, no! I'm fine, I can study on my own from here! I guess I wanted to say, that…Lovino was a really great tutor, and I appreciated his help."

"Well, that's very kind of you! I'm sure Lovino will be glad to hear that when I see him at the graduation ceremony."

Alfred's heart beat a little quicker. "You'll tell him then?"

"Sure, if you want me to!"

"Yes, tell him that! And…" Alfred was about to consider handing her the letter, but stopped halfway. He didn't understand what was wrong. An opportunity had popped up before him, and yet he was…afraid. Afraid of things going wrong. But it wasn't like him to hesitate. Why did his skin feel so warm, and why was his heart fluttering like that?

"And?" Ms. Keleman prompted.

Alfred blinked. "Oh!—Um, that—that I wish him good luck in high school!"

Ms. Keleman nodded. "Of course, I'll be sure to tell him. Good luck on your finals tomorrow, Alfred."

Alfred left the room, feeling more regretful at his cowardice than miserable at the realization he wasn't going to see Lovino again.

To be continued…