Oh no, Microsoft Office died on me! Now I don't have a grammar check engine! What ever will I do?
Yeah, just an FYI, you're all probably going to have to deal with a ton of mistakes that aren't custom to me, but I'm gonna continue to write all my stories. I'm just going to have to write in bloody note pad and proofread even closer than I usually do...dammit, what am I gonna do? I need Word to do my big ass project in English!
Well, there's my ranting for my cruddy circumstances...I don't really think I have anything to say. I know, you're all going "FUCK YEAH! NO GODDAMN LETTER THIS TIME!" and my words to that are, "Don't swear, it's fucking rude," (that's a quotation from some itacest fanfiction. I'll look it up and site it next chapter, because it's one of my favorite Lovi quotes of any fanfic ever! and if you don't mind that couple, you should read the story because it's cute)
So, uh, without further ado:
I DO NOT OWN HETALIA: AXIS POWERS/WORLD SERIES! (because if I did, this fanfiction would not exist. Who else agrees that "cute-Lovi" just doesn't compare with the real, angsty Romano?)
~.~.~
Feli stood staring at the closed oak door for at least twenty minutes, until finally it opened again, Antonio standing in the frame smiling apologetically. "S-sorry Ita-chan! I was so surprised by the way Lovi was acting, I just kind of...forgot that you were here too!" Such honesty in that, Feli noted sadly, staring at the Spaniard before him. Oh well, at least he was sincere...
Spain waited anxiously for Feli's blank expression to brighten, or even to darken. Upset or bubbly, either way would have been more like Ita-chan than this sulky silence. He put his hand on the small Italian's shoulder. "Ita-chan, are you alright, amigo?" He looked into the amber eyes, his stomach in a tight knot until a slight trace of light filled them again.
"Ye-yeah, isn't he acting weird?" Feli agreed, forcing himself to let go of his hurt and replace it with his custom warmth and joy. Of course this weird side of Lovi shocked Spain. Besides himself, or possibly even more than that, Lovi was closer to Antonio than he was to any other person, nation or human alike. Obviously he'd be shocked that the little Italian had changed so much, and he'd seen him mere hours before. "I thought maybe you'd know something about it, big brother."
Spain scratched his head thoughtfully, thinking back to the harvest that morning. Instinctively at the memory, his other hand flew to his stomach, and he clutched the still sore spot from that morning's chigi-ing. "N-no, he left just like he usually does..." he said, grimacing.
So Antonio had no idea, either. Feli sighed, defeated, then smiled brightly. "Well, I guess it must've been something that happened in Italy, then." He looked up at the Spaniard, who was still reliving his stomach crunching morning with a pained expression. "I-I guess I'll just see you later then, big brother. Tell Lovi that our siesta will have to wait." Having said that, he turned back to his car to return to Italy and investigate. This sort of thing didn't just happen, after all.
"W-w-wait, Ita-chan!" Antonio called out frantically. Feli began to turn to see what the man wanted, only to find himself engulfed by the beige fabric of Spain's uniform in a tight, captive hug. "C'mon, mi amigo, you don't really have to go, do you? I hardly ever get to see you anymore! Where do you have to go all of a sudden?" Feli struggled his way into a position that enabled him to breathe, and looked up into the pleading emerald eyes.
"B-big brother, I have to go back to-"
Spain shook his head, then locked eyes with the little Italian again. "Germany can wait for you, he gets to see you all the time anyway! C'mon, tomate, come oooon~!" Feli froze, and shook his head, tears coming to his eyes.
"D-don't, big brother, I have to!" he insisted, wriggling and snaking his way out of the tight grip around him. The job of a farmer definitely paid off, sometimes.
Antonio nuzzled him, making escape futile unless Feli was willing to hurt him. "But whyyyy~?" he whined.
"Be-because," he explained, out of breath from the impossible fight. He gave up and went limp. "I have to go back to Italy to find out what's wrong with Lovi."
At this the Spanish man looked at the small boy in his iron clutches. "Why would you want to do that?" he asked, sincere as per usual for him.
Feli stopped, and thought over the matter. Why did he feel the immense need to change everything back? He blushed and looked away, caught without an answer. "Because he's..." He again gave a very distressed sigh. "He's not my brother..."
Antonio didn't hold back as he laughed heartily at the boys reasoning. "Come on and come inside, and if you still wanna leave I'll let you, okay amigo?"
Feli nodded, and followed closely behind the brunette man into the big, cheerful house. Once in the sitting room, both of them gasped, but Antonio's was followed by a chuckle. "You see?" he said, gesturing to the sleeping Lovino sprawled lazily on his couch. "Look at him, Ita-chan. I never saw him looking so peaceful all throughout his childhood, and now as an adult, he's finally happy." Walking over and kneeling next to the couch, he stroked the soft, dark colored hair that was already ruffled by sleep. "I wanna know what caused it all, too, but for now does it really matter? He's happy."
Feli's heart lunged as he was overcome with the guilt of having been upset about it all. His big brother was right, Lovi was happy, and he wasn't hiding it for once. Tip-toeing over next to the Spaniard, he looked down at the peaceful expression on his brother's face, and smiled serenely himself. "Heh, silly fratello..."
Antonio looked up him. He smiled sadly to himself. "And this is why I wanted all of us to live together. If it's cute now, how would it have been when you two were little!" Feli heard the mumbling, but couldn't make out words. His eyes moved from Lovi to Toni. He was shocked to find that Spain was now gazing at him, with a similar look in his eye that one could find in Francis.
Blushing and anxious about the awkward look, he quickly averted his eyes back to his fratello. "Wh-what?" he stuttered nervously.
Antonio chuckled. "Ah, nothing," he hummed soothingly. "Do you want a cup of hot chocolate, too, Ita-chan?" He stood up, stretching as the blood rushed freely once more, smiling and making a small groan at the feeling as his sore muscles ached from the odd crouching position. After a whole day of picking tomatoes (which he had continued to do even after Lovi had left. In fact, he had still been doing it when the Italians had first arrived, hence the dirty uniform that now had caked mud rather than dry dirt) sitting that way for more than a small amount time wasn't too great of an idea.
"No," Feli mumbled, gazing fondly at the light pink dusted over his brother's usually bright red cheeks. Such bliss there. "C-can I have a churro, though?" he asked sheepishly.
Antonio tensed, promptly smacking himself in the forehead with his palm. "Oi, Ita-chan! Los siento, mi tomate! I forgot to ask you if you wanted one, and I know how much you like them." He dashed out of the room, toward the kitchen. Soon, though, he poked his head back in and looked quizzically at the Italian. "I've got some dough already risen, you want a fresh one? It'll take longer..."
Looking back with his signature bright smile, Feli eagerly nodded at the Spaniard.
Of course, a fresh churro was worth more time, but the the wait itself is what really appealed to him. As soon as Spain was out of sight and out of mind, Feli took his place on the ground next to his beloved brother.
He wanted just a little time to watch Lovi by himself.
~.~.~
Feli was nudged awake, startled back to reality from his slumber. He couldn't remember the dream that had been interrupted, but somehow he felt that he didn't want to. He was aware of a very dull ache in his chest, and looking up into his brother's blurry face, realized his eyes held tears.
Wiping them away, he found Lovi, who seemed groggy from his nap. He wore a confused and slightly concerned expression, looking back at Feli who lifted his head from where it had lay, cranked to rest on his arm on the couch. He was still kneeling next to Lovi on the ground, but had somehow dozed off. He quickly took note of the fact that his and Lovi's fingers were intertwined.
Looking at them sadly, Feli sighed at the sight. I'm allowed to hold your hand now too? Recalling all of the times he had barely touched Lovino's fingers and been cruelly reprimanded for the contact, he shook his head to dismiss the throbbing in his temples. Who are you? he caught himself wondering, closing his eyes to clear his head.
"Vene-chan! Why would you fall asleep like that?" Lovino cried. Feli's mouth twitched in irritation, which he quickly stifled and smiled apologetically at his brother. "Now you're going to have a sore neck!"
His smile dropped slightly. "I thought you wanted to take a siesta together, fratello," he explained, confused by Lovi's words. That is what he said.
The older Italian blinked in shock, blushing. "I-I'm sorry! I guess it was me who fell asleep without you...but we could both fit on the couch!" He tried to scoot over so Feli could join him, but the younger boy knew better than to think such a small area was enough for Lovi by himself, let alone the two of them.
He laughed jovially. "Silly fratello, we're not both going to fit." He pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his neck during the process. It was a bit stiff.
Suddenly he could smell the buttery cinnamon wafting in through the halls to the kitchen. The pain in his chest dulled again to nothing more than a vague emptiness, and the apology in his smile vanished. He looked back at Lovi, who had his head laid down again, his eyes half lidded. The boy yawned, working to stay conscious. "B-...But, Vene-...chan..." he tried to protest, nodding in exhaustion.
Feliciano laughed. "I'm not even tired anymore, fratello. Why don't you just go back to sleep? I'm going to go check on Big Brother, see if he needs anything."
Smiling, Lovi relaxed his neck and fell instantly back into his blissful state. Feli giggled to himself. He's like...a kitty. He ran his fingers through his brother's hair, careful to avoid the pesky one that would surely wake him up, should he accidentally touch it. He shuddered at the thought at what his fratello would do to him if he did.
Mio fratello, he thought, wistfully. When he was normal.
Shaking away the thought, he quickly bounced up, regaining his joyful nature. He pranced into the kitchen, finding Antonio (who was thoroughly covered in flour, with a few spots of cinnamon on his apron and arms) in the midst of a wreck with a plate of churro's in his hands. He smiled brightly, gliding over to the Italian, who stood gaping at him.
Taking one of the hot churros and wedging it into Feliciano's open mouth, the Spaniard gave a disapproving tint to his eternal grin. "C'mon, Ita-chan! I made them specially, don't let it get cold!"
Moving his hand to his mouth and grabbing the fried treat, pulling it while biting down and chewing the piece in his mouth. They were better warm!
Taking another bite, he looked up at Antonio guiltily. "I-" He swallowed. "I didn't know it was going to end up making this much of a mess!"
The Spaniard merely laughed. "Well, I might have made a hefty job for myself, but I was going to make them anyway, and I had to show you that I'm sorry." He laughed, finally looking at the catastrophic cleaning he'd have to do. He cringed a little bit, suddenly aware of just how tired he was from cooking and the harvest combined. "Well," he sighed. "Might as well start if I wanna get to sleep tonight." He laughed, though he was entirely serious in the statement. "How about you take Lovi and go home. He doesn't have to harvest anything tomo-"
Grabbing a dry rag off of the counter, Feli poised for work. "No, I'll help you!"
Spain looked at him in confusion. "Wh-what?" He pondered everything he knew about the small Italian. "But you don't like to clean anymore than Lovi does," he pointed out.
"So?" Feli denied. "You made the mess because I asked you to so-"
"You didn't ask me to, I did it myself-"
Feli shook his head urgently. "No, I want to help!" he assured the Spaniard, beginning to wipe the counters with the dry cloth.
Sighing, Spain shook his head. "Well then," he ordered. "At least finish your churro, before it's cold.."
Happy to oblige, Feli munched gratefully on the cinnamon-sugar covered treat. When the entire thing was gone he wiped his mouth and dusted his hands off.
As he again regained the cloth he began diligently scrubbing the counters, feeling true joy at Antonio's grateful, smiling expression each time he glimpsed over. He giggled to himself and began to softly hum a spirited Vivaldi piece he hadn't heard in a long time.
~.~.~
Feli was dusting off the last crevice of the huge kitchen, scrubbing up the last remains of flour and cinnamon from the surface of the counter tops and intricately carved cupboard doors. When he was sure all of the flour had been swept into his cloth, he dumped the powder into the garbage. He smiled, inwardly giggling at the countless times he had made pasta in Germany's house, being constantly reminded to keep the room decent. It's been a while since I've really cleaned. Ludi is always doing it for me.
Throwing the cloth aside, he found another, wetting it and grabbing a cleaning solvent from underneath the sink. He sprayed a thin layer of it onto the smooth surface of the counter and began to diligently scrub, trying to wipe away any sugar or flour that had accidentally gotten wet while Antonio was cooking.
Noticing the boy's new occupation, Spain dropped his station at the stove top, where he had been clearing the area of all oil splatters and extra dough. "Oi, Ita-chan!" He dashed over to where the Italian was working, reaching around his waist to retrieve the damp cloth and squirt bottle.
Startled by the sudden contact Feliciano jumped, holding the supplies just out of the Spaniard's reach. He blushed and took in a sharp breath. "B-big brother, wha-"
Spain stretched his arms, feeling Feli's muscles contract to do the same. His fingers skimmed the bottle, but he wasn't able to get grip. He huffed out in irritation. "I didn't invite you into my house to clean! Wiping up the flour was enough, I'll do the rest later!"
Feli's back arched, trying to push Antonio away from him. He held the supplies as far from the hands that reached to possess them as possible, supporting them by only the tips of his fingers. "B-but...I-I was actually enjoying it! P-please, big brother, sto-no!" he cried out as the bottle rolled off his fingers. Forgetting about the being he supported, he lunged forward, scared of what would happen if the bottle fell to the ground from the high counter top.
Antonio, still pushing to get the cleaner, fell onto Feli, who slipped on the puddle on the counter and now lay flat against it face down with the full weight of his Spanish friend crushing him into it. He unwillingly let out a stifled moan, half at the pain of the counter top's edge being pressed into his abdomen, and half from the sound of breaking plastic as the bottle fell from his sight, down to the hard tile floor. He cringed at the sound of liquid dripping and trickling onto the marble.
Due purely to shock, it took Antonio a moment to process what had happened. It took until he felt the silent sobbing wrack Feliciano's small frame beneath him to snap him back to reality, shoving himself up off the counter top as rapidly as possible.
Not rapidly enough, though.
As he pulled the trembling boy up onto his feet a shaky, loud sudden breath was heard from the doorway. He quickly steadied Feli, and his eyes shot to the source of the sound. After Feli wiped the toxic solvent from his eyes and mouth, he looked too.
What he saw was Romano, staring with wide eyes and a trembling lip. For half an instant he saw a look of hatred and fury pass through the hazel eyes as they passed between Feli and Toni, giving longer intervals to the Spaniard. The familiar expression was gone as soon as it came, though, and soon all Feli could see in his brother's eyes was hurt, betrayal, confusion, and loneliness. Lovi's lips formed words, but his vocal cords didn't join them. His eyes began to wander the room senselessly. Finally they fell to the floor, staring widely as the tears flowed and dropped to his feet. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath.
"V-Ve-ne-ch-chan...T-Toni-o...Ho-ow c-could yo-ou...?" he cried out choppily, his voice a low murmur.
Realizing what Lovino must have thought, Antonio dropped his hands from on crying Italian, rushing over to the other. "Hey, Romano, it's okay! You don't have to cry, it's not-" He thought over his words, trying to find the least suspicious sounding explanation. "Ita-chan just slipped, okay?" He forced the boy to look him in the eye, then pulled him into a gentle hug. He rubbed the back of Romano's head, which was again buried into his chest, crying.
Having sunken to the floor, Feli continued to sob, albeit a lot more silently than Lovi. His eyes stung from both the tears and the cleaning solution. Forcing himself to his unstable legs, he watched the display in front of him as Antonio tried to convince Lovino that his accusations of favoritism were wrong, that he did love him every bit as much as he liked his brother.
Feeling horribly forgotten and alone, Feliciano slowly backed towards the back door that lead to the tomato fields. When his hand clenched firmly around the knob, he whipped around and dashed into the maze-like fields.
As soon as he was deep into the crops, he fell back to his knees, and let out a peep of a wail. The tears in his eyes couldn't wash away the sting of the cleaner, though they were flowing quite heavily by now, and the taste in his mouth reminded him that he should have flushed his face with water. He could clearly remember Hungary's careful instruction from when he was young and working in Austria's house of how to deal with toxic chemical ingestion.
He considered turning back, taking care of himself, and then calmly driving back to Venice where he could sort through things on his own, but he denied the idea. He couldn't stand to see that person again. He couldn't bring himself to hate, or even to not love, this person, but there was just something in him that Feli couldn't deal with. Though now he shook, unable to keep his feet steady, he pushed himself to his feet, running through the field until he found a trail, trusting that it would lead him out.
And, despite the occasional tripping and falling, he ran as he would from any situation that made him feel so...helpless. With the speed of a racehorse, in full retreat.
~.~.~
Well, there you have it. Chapter two. Sorry, that moment in the kitchen? It just had to happen. Why? Because after dirty conversation after another with my Spain, she somehow convinced me that it was okay. Thinking over it, I knew there would be...ehem, certain people, who might stop the second the two got close to each other, but I honestly don't give a crap. I had permission from my Antonio, who seems to think that any Hetalia couple is adorable. I can't really deny her on most of them. I kinda think this one is cute too, but i'm partial to all couples involving Feliciano. In fact, I even considered writing a story about our conversation about whipped cream and darkSpain. It may happen, we'll just have to wait and see. This story? That was all just them being clutzy and Lovi misreading the situation. Pretty awesome, ja...?