A/N: Um, hey there. Long time no see, eh? I am really-really-really-really-really sorry this took so long. A couple months, actually. I swear it's Spain's fault; he just doesn't want to stay in character. (He's still not completely himself, but at this point it's just time to let it go.)

Also, thanks to Fabled Phoenix who pointed out that I incorrectly translated "deutsch" as the German word for Dutch in the ending A/N; it actually means German. Gilbert used it correctly in the story itself, though, so hopefully you all just ignored me.

Translations for this chapter (all Italian):

Chi? =who?

Che? =what?

Dove? =where?

Quando? =when?

Perché? =why?

Come? =how?

No c'e male =not bad

Non so =I don't know

Mi dispiace =sorry

Stai zitto =shut up

Posso dirti che hai degli occhi stupendi? =May I tell you that you have amazing eyes? (this is a pretty standard Italian pickup line, apparently)

(I'm really-really-really-really-really-really-really-really-really sorry, again!)

"It's chi? che? dove? quando? perché? and come?" Lovino jabbed his finger at the blond sitting across from him after each question. "Now repeat that back to me."

Alfred opened his mouth to reply, only for the Italian to interrupt him, "After you wipe your mouth off, idiot!" Alfred rolled his eyes and hastily scrubbed at the whipped cream left on his face from his drink.

"Chi, che, dove, perché, come," he repeated rapidly, then took another sip.

Lovino watched, gaze intent (though of course, Alfred didn't notice). It was Alfred's turn to buy their drinks today and, much to his annoyance, he'd noticed Alfred always ordered the cheapest thing possible when Lovino was buying, and more expensive things (like the ridiculously large mocha frappé he had right now) when he was paying for himself. He didn't dare call him on it, however.

"No c'e male," he said, referring to Alfred's Italian. Which was actually true; his pronunciation was spot-on, although his accent was stubbornly American. "And what do those mean?"

Alfred shrugged. "Non so."

"Idiota!" Lovino stood abruptly and made to storm out the door.

"No no no wait, Lovi!" Of course, said idiot also got up to follow him. It seemed he would not be able to leave him behind.

Like you want to, Beillschmidt said in his head. You've got it so bad you probably wouldn't mind if he was stalking you.

It's not that bad, he protested mentally. Unfortunately, even his own mental voice sounded unconvinced.

Now that's just sad, Beillschmidt said. Unfortunately, it was. Talk about being in denial.

I'm not in denial! And he wasn't! He was just very, very reluctant to even think about the ridiculously strong crush he was currently harboring. Maybe it would eventually go away…

Ah, but mon ami, love should not be repressed so! Bonnefoy put in.

Shut up. I don't even want to hear from you. Just…no.

I'm just saying, Bonnefoy murmured, sounding a bit petulant, holding it in will drive you crazy. Even small gestures would help you ease your mind. Why do you think even unrequited lovers long to be in the presence of their beloved?

That doesn't make any sense. Wouldn't that just be painful?

"Lovi?" Alfred interrupted his internal argument. Lovino looked up and (dammit!) met his eyes.

Awww, look at him, tomate! Antonio squealed. He looks like a puppy! You wouldn't kick a puppy, would you? A cute little puppy?

Lovino sat back down, causing Alfred to beam and sit, as well.

So much for storming out.

Lovino sighed. He and Alfred had been meeting every day for almost two weeks now, at a number of random hours and varying lengths of time. Last week Alfred had asked for help with his Italian (Lovino was more than a little pleased by this; he could count on his fingers how many people had willingly asked him for help with anything), so Lovino had been reviewing the basics with him for the past few days. It was frustrating, though, because Alfred was progressing much slower than he'd thought he would.

"Um, Lovi…are you ignoring me?" The question didn't really register; he continued to stare at Alfred contemplatively.

"Mi dispiace." The Italian apology snapped him out of his daze.

"For what?" he asked, blinking.

"For making you frustrated with me…"

The poor puppy! Antonio squealed.

Oh yeah, and the language department taking up residence in his head was a new development.

"Stai zitto!" he hissed to himself. They were just as annoying as figments of his imagination as they were as real people.

"Chi?" Alfred asked. "I mean, if it's me I can be really quiet and not annoy you at all, I promise."

"No, not you, it's just—wait."

Alfred was fiddling with his napkin, seemingly engrossed with something on the ceiling.

"You did know what they meant! What the hell, bastard?"

The blond's shoulders hunched in a bit.

"I just…wanted to spend some more time with you," he muttered. "Whenever I have trouble with something, you hang out with me longer," Alfred continued explaining. "So I just thought—"

"You'd manipulate me?"

"What? No!" Alfred looked shocked at the suggestion. "I wouldn't do that!"

"It's exactly what you were doing! Influencing my actions by lying is manipulation!"

The other had turned pale, by now looking positively anguished. "I didn't mean to," he said. "I'm sorry, I'm really really sorry."

"…I'm not angry," Lovino sighed. And really, he wasn't. "You just weren't thinking."

"Again," Alfred said, bitter and self-deprecating.

Kicked puppy…his subconscious murmured. Come on, give him a little encouraging scratch behind the ears.

"It's not like you make a habit of it," he said. Shit, he wasn't used to trying to cheer people up. "It was, uh, actually pretty out of character for you."

"Huh?"

"Well, you seem more like the kind of person to just ask me outright to spend more time with you, not try to be sneaky about it."

"I've been told I'm really annoying, being so blunt and forward," Alfred said. He wasn't quite so blanched anymore, but he was still refusing to meet his eyes and his shoulders were still up as if in preparation for a blow. Or a kick, right between his cute puppy dog eyes. Dammit.

"Whoever told you that is an idiot," he said decisively. "Being blunt or forward or whatever is fine for you…" Dammit, just when he thought he'd make it through one of their meetings without blushing. "…because it's you."

Surprised, Alfred finally looked up at him.

Lovino didn't know whether it was the lighting or the expression on the blond's face or the phrase that had been repeating in the back of his head for the past few minutes ("I just wanted to spend more time with you"), but somehow the words fell out of his mouth unbidden when he saw those blues.

"Posso dirti che hai degli occhi stupendi?"

Alfred blinked, breaking the spell and causing Lovino's face to flame as he realized what he'd said.

"Um, I have no idea what that meant. For serious this time," Alfred said sheepishly.

"W-which just goes to show how much you still have to learn, bastard! Italian is a language, not just a few words and phrases. It will take a lot longer before you even begin to approach being fluent and so…so…" He faltered, seeing Alfred beginning to smile tentatively (and adorably). "S-so if you want longer lessons just say so."

Seeing him smile so widely and happily, Lovino had to acknowledge why he hadn't been more upset with Alfred—because he wanted to spend more time with the idiot, as well.

Told you so, Bonnefoy said smugly. You long to be in his presence~

Lovino quashed the voice back, mostly because he couldn't refute it.

Now, he thought, how to tell him my new coffeemaker came?

The next day was Wednesday. Lovino met Alfred for coffee and lessons in the morning, and true to his word, the blond stopped deliberately impeding his own progress. They stayed half an hour later than usual.

He still didn't mention the brand new coffeemaker sitting on the counter in his dorm…which he hadn't even touched yet.

So here he was worrying over it, sitting at Antonio's desk where he was supposed to be grading papers, glaring into space. And he was pissed. Obviously this sinking, vaguely guilty feeling was Alfred's fault. Worrying was screwing up his appetite, which was unforgivable.

But, that was part of the problem. Whenever he was near Alfred he just…didn't think straight! The boy was surrounded by this, this aura of sunshine or some shit like that, and it made him feel warm and happy and goddammit he just lost his head every time. So whenever he should have been angry or annoyed, he found himself smiling or laughing like an idiot, except he didn't feel like an idiot at the time; oh no, that didn't come until afterwards when he was away from those eyes and that smile and he looked back and realized he'd been acting like a love-struck fool. And now he was having the same problem with bringing up the coffeemaker—the thought just flew out of his head as soon as Alfred smiled and greeted him, and didn't return until he was in the middle of classes or something (once he'd come out of his Alfred-induced daze to realize he'd been smiling through the first half of his calculus class, completely terrifying the professor to the point where he couldn't lecture).

But he needed to remember it, because that coffee was horrific. He eyed the pen he was holding. Maybe if he wrote a reminder somewhere, like on the back of his hand?

(But of course that wouldn't work since he'd spend the whole time staring at Alfred's face.)

Utterly frustrated, he hurled the pen across the room.

Only for it to hit Antonio square in the face.

"…ah?" The writing utensil stuck to the man's forehead in comical fashion for a moment before falling into his lap. The professor's green eyes were wide in surprise. "Roma?"

"Goddammit," Lovino screeched, frustrated tears springing to his eyes.

Couldn't he do anything right? Apparently not; he couldn't even have a small moment of irritation without almost stabbing one of the few people who actually liked him in the eye.

Antonio was up and by his side in a moment. "Romano! Please don't cry! What is it? Did I do something? I promise I'll fix it! Just tell me what's wrong."

"You can't fix the fact that I'm a worthless human being." He wiped furiously at his eyes with the back of his hand, but the tears kept coming. For some reason, Antonio's gentle pats to his back and the concern in his voice had made the dam break, and he just couldn't stop crying.

The professor's tone took on a hard edge. "Who told you that? I'll get them flunked out of whatever language they're in."

"It's not something someone told me. It's just a fact, a fact I've slowly come to realize about myself."

"Roma…lo siento, but you're completely wrong."

Lovino sniffled a bit, but looked up.

"You know better," Antonio chided lightly. "You have more common sense than most people. Where did that go?"

Well, he had a point there. And it was unusual for the professor to sound serious unless it was important.

"But I'm not important," he muttered, mostly to himself.

"Wrong again! You're important to me and to your brother. Even the dean cares about you…in his own way. Francis and Gilbert really like you, too!"

Lovino snorted. "They're probably just smiling and nodding along with whatever nonsense comes out of your mouth." But the tears had stopped.

Antonio smiled at him. "And what about Alfred?"

He felt his face flush, just a little bit. "What about him?"

"Francis mentioned you made friends with him! He said Alfred seemed really happy to see you!"

"W-well, he's just an overenthusiastic kind of person."

"I dunno, Roma. He's very friendly but he doesn't really interact with a lot of people."

"You say that, but it seems like every teacher on campus knows him."

"Ah? No, I think it's just me, Franny, Gil, and the dean…"

"How do you—?"

"Haha, sorry, Roma, but I don't think I'm supposed to say. I'm sure Alfred will tell you eventually, since you're taking such good care of him!"

"Damn straight I am." He managed a small smile, which in turn made the professor squeal and envelop him in a hug.

"Ah, mi tomate, so cute!"

"Alright, alright, get off of me!"

Finally Antonio released him. "Okay! Boss says you're done for the day!"

"You're not my boss, idiota."

"I am while you're working after class! So Boss says: leave early! Go on and find Alfred."

Lovino stood and hefted his bag over his shoulder. "Really? You're telling me to stop working and go hang out with Alfred?"

"If he makes you smile like that, then of course!"

He blushed. "Fine then, I'm leaving. Stop saying embarrassing shit like that!" He headed for the door quickly, but stopped in front of it, turning. "Oh yeah, and remind me later to chew you out for calling me a tomato in front of your friends."

"Haha, okay! Bye Roma!"

It was a Wednesday. On Wednesdays they met in the morning. So the question was, where did Alfred spend his afternoons? Lovino tried to piece it together in his head.

He was most likely on campus, but far away from the language building or the dean's office where one of the adults who knew him might see. He would be doing something, not just lounging around on the quad or near the dorms. But somewhere people weren't likely to bother him—

Oh, of course. The library.

It took about ten minutes of searching the building, but Lovino finally found him sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a shelf of archived science journals. He was bent over almost halfway, looking completely absorbed in whatever he was reading, glasses about to slip off his nose.

It was absolutely adorable.

Alfred didn't notice his presence until he sat down next to him. And he sat close, so their sides were almost pressed together. Alfred took this in stride, giving him a bright smile, and with that Lovino found himself at ease. Maybe it was just the post-cathartic feeling after crying, but in any case, he let his head fall onto Alfred's shoulder.

"Hey. Antonio let you go early?"

Lovino hummed in confirmation.

…This was really comfortable. He should do this more often.

Small gestures, Bonnefoy's voice whispered approvingly in the back of his head.

He seriously needed to find a way to get rid of him, though.

"Hey, I wanted to ask you something," he said after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Why do you like the library so much?"

Alfred grinned teasingly. "Because you're here, of course."

"Ha, ha," Lovino muttered, sounding sarcastic but secretly a bit pleased. "It's just that you chose this as a hiding place when I first met you; I thought maybe there was a reason."

"Well," Alfred said after a pause. More serious this time. "Back when I was still in high school, we had this really big research project we were supposed to do. They took our class here, since the sources're so much better than at the local library. Plus they wanted us to be prepared to use this place and find our way around…ya know, when we were actually in college.

"It was my favorite field trip. I didn't get any work done, though, 'cause I got distracted."

"By the science journals?" He looked down at the one in Alfred's lap. Something about 'Doppler theory.' "So basically what you're telling me you were a geek in high school?"

"Still am at heart." That cheeky grin was back. Lovino rolled his eyes.

"I'm tired," he announced. "Have fun with your science stuff."

"Are you leaving now?"

"No," he replied simply, and closed his eyes.

Lovino came awake slowly, and without Alfred noticing. The sun coming in through the glass dome ceiling above had dimmed; he guessed it was almost six. He was really comfortable, but staying in the library all night was not an option.

"Hey Alfred."

The boy looked up, startled.

(Their faces were so close…)

"I meant to tell you, I got a new coffeemaker."

"…oh yeah? That's…nice, I guess. Um."

"Yeah. Remember when I told you that Italian-made coffee put everything else to shame?"

Alfred smiled.

A/N: It's a bit short, but I've started getting ideas for this again so expect more next time! Which will come much sooner than it did this time!

Also, puppy!America is the brainchild of Coffee-Flavored Fate, as you Romerica readers probably already know. It was only through the extensive rereading of everything Romerica that this chapter was able to be written, so thank you!