Lovino sat on his bed, his back against the wall as he stared blankly at the sketchbook propped up on his knees. He had come back to the dorm earlier than normal that night in order to be well-rested for his inevitably tiring day with Antonio. At least, that's what he had told himself at the time. Now, as he sat on his bed, glancing at the clock every five minutes, he realized he'd come back because he had wanted to talk to Feliciano. He didn't know why, his younger brother was oblivious and probably couldn't offer any worthwhile advise, yet he found comfort in talking to him. Lovino glanced at the glaring red letters on the microwave and cursed. It was a little past two and Feliciano hadn't returned. He wasn't exactly surprised, even if he wasn't happy about the situation. Lovino didn't typically return to the dorm till well past 3 on the weekends and he didn't blame his brother for using the opportunity to go out and be social, even if the idea of it did irritate him.

Lovino tapped his pencil eraser on the blank page and sighed, leaning his head against the wall to stare at the ceiling. He had been so preoccupied with Antonio lately that he hadn't given Feliciano the attention he needed. He felt guilty about it, though he knew the younger Italian would never find any fault in him. In fact, Feliciano probably enjoyed being able to bond with people without his brother's interference, but the younger boy wasn't as concerned with forward thinking as his older brother, and that worried Lovino. He didn't think Feliciano fully understood the hurt that could result from having relationships fail, and though he knew he was partially to blame for that, he wasn't ready for the younger boy to experience heartbreak. He loved that Feliciano was carefree and trusting, and he didn't want to let him grow up and become aware of the pain the world had to offer.

Lovino shot his eyes to the door when he heart someone fiddling with the lock. He waited a few moments, tension vibrating in his toes and fingers as he waited for the knob to click, and finally scrambled to his feet to turn the lock back himself when the person on the other side of the door wasn't immediately successful.

"Lovi," Feliciano gasped when the door flew open in front of him, pulling his stuck key with it.

"Don't you know how to unlock a door?" Lovino asked, irritation coating his voice as he turned to yank the key from the lock. "Here," he said simply when he had finally removed it, dropping it into the younger Italian's open palm before guiding the hesitant boy in by his elbow and closing the door. Lovino padded back to his bed and dropped to the mattress, scooting back until he was against the wall and pulling the sketchbook back into his lap.

"What are you doing back so early?" Feliciano asked cautiously, watching his brother curiously as he walked over to his bed and pulled off his jacket, draping it over his desk chair.

Lovino only shrugged and started sketching, not turning his face from the page. "So where were you?" He tried to sound nonchalant, but his stiff voice betrayed him.

"I went to dinner and a movie with a few friends," Feliciano answered back, "is that ok?"

Lovino snorted and turned to the next page, his sketching getting more and more heavy-handed. "Do what you want." He said simply, his teeth tightening around the inside of his cheek.

Feliciano cocked his head and watched his brother for a few minutes, "are you mad?" He asked finally, disturbed by the aggressive way his brother was attacking his sketchbook.

"What do you think?" Lovino replied through gritted teeth.

"Ve~I'm sorry Lovi, I just-you're always working in the studio and I got lonely," Feliciano pouted, his voice rising an octave as he whined.

Lovino sighed and laid his pencil down, turning to look at his brother's concerned face. "I'm not mad," he admitted, "I'm just-" the Italian took a deep breath while he tried to collect his thoughts. "I'm just hurt that you decided to hide it from me."

Feliciano nodded slightly and Lovino felt relieved that his brother seemed to understand what he meant without a detailed and inevitably painful explanation. He didn't want his brother to be lonely, Feliciano feeling sad for any reason was the last thing he wished for, but he needed to know his friends. He had to speak with them, to observe them, and make sure they were good people and not just perverts out to abuse his admittedly handsome brother. He knew he couldn't expect the boy to let him protect him like this forever, he was growing up and wandering from the older Italian's watchful eye, and that scared him. He was scared for Feliciano's well-being, but if he was honest, he was more worried for himself. He was afraid of being replaced, of being rendered useless, and of ultimately being left alone. His relationship with his brother was the one thing Lovino allowed himself, and even that bond was causing him distress.

"So why did you come back early?" Feliciano asked again, padding over to his dresser and searching through the drawers for a pair of pajama pants.

Lovino closed his sketchbook and tossed it on top of his nightstand before stretching his arms behind his head. "I'm going on a drive tomorrow so I thought I'd try to go to bed early."

Feliciano pulled out a pair of plaid pants and laid them on his desk as he struggled to pull his belt from his slacks. "A trip? Where are you going?"

Lovino turned his body around and leaned back on his pillows, "like you don't know," he yawned, pulling his hands up to rub his tired eyes.

"Ve~I don't know what you're talking about," Feliciano whined, kicking his pants from his ankles and reaching for the more comfortable sweats.

Lovino sighed and turned his head to adjust his alarm, Antonio had never specifically said what time they were leaving, so he was going to set it for six and hope he was guessing right. If he was wrong he could always just work till the Spaniard arrived. "You know, Antonio wanted to go to this place, something about scones, I don't really know." The older Italian explained half-heartedly.

Feliciano gave a hum of understanding and waded into the bathroom to brush his teeth. "I haven't seen Antonio in a long time," he called through the bathroom door while he plucked his toothbrush out of its holder.

Lovino pushed himself onto his elbows and peered at the shadow of his brother cast across the threshold, "what do you mean?" He demanded, confused, "didn't he ask you to go with him tomorrow?"

Feliciano peeked his head out of the bathroom and stared curiously at his brother while he brushed his teeth "No," he replied simply through his foam-filled mouth, before turning back towards the sink to rinse out the minty paste.

"But-" Lovino wanted to argue, to think of a reason why Antonio hadn't invited his brother on the trip before himself, but his brain had stopped working.

"Ve~I can't believe you're going on a date, fratello," Feliciano yawned as he flicked off the bathroom light and trudged over to his bed.

Lovino pulled himself up further to scowl at his brother, "it's not a date," he snarled resolutely.

"But Lov-"

"It's not a date!" Lovino reiterated, refusing to lay back down until his brother agreed.

Feliciano paused in pulling back his quilt to catch a glimpse of his brother's determined face. "Eh? Ok, Lovi," the younger Italian complied, climbing onto his mattress and pulling his covers up to his neck. "Then I'm happy you made a friend."

"He's not that either," Lovino argued immediately, digging his nails into his quilt.

"But why do you spend so much time with him if-"

"The bastard won't leave me alone, it has nothing to do with me," Lovino spat, cheeks filling with blood from his irritation. He didn't know why it was so important to convince Feliciano he didn't have any sort of relationship with Antonio, though he suspected it had something to do with trying to convince himself.

"Oh," Feliciano said hesitantly, clearly confused but too tired to argue.

"I don't give a shit about him, I hardly know him," Lovino sensed that his brother had lost interest, but even as the younger Italian reached over to click off his lamp, he couldn't stop his torrent of excuses. "He's the one that won't leave me alone, he can go fuck himself for all I care."

Feliciano only yawned and gave out a slight "mmm" before turning over to face the wall and nuzzle his cheek into his pillow. Lovino sighed and fell back onto his mattress, crossing his arms over his chest as he breathed deeply in an attempt to calm his pulsing nerves. It bothered him that Antonio hadn't invited Feliciano on this outing, he knew there had to be an ulterior motive, but he struggled to decide what it might be. He figured the Spaniard might have wanted him to go in order to further suck up to him and be granted time with Feliciano, but then why lie about having invited others before him? Besides, Antonio would have to be extremely dedicated to his plot to not bother interacting with the younger Italian in any way until he had formed a bond with the older. It was just weird, and it made Lovino feel uneasy. He didn't believe the Spaniard actually cared about him, he knew the boy must want something from him and from this, and it infuriated him that he had no idea what that desired outcome might be.

Lovino let out a small whine of frustration and pushed the inside of his wrists into his eyes, flinching when he brushed against the slightly swollen socket. The skin hadn't darkened, thankfully. Lovino hadn't wanted any attention over it, not from strangers or his professors, and especially not from Feliciano. The less the younger Italian knew about his brother's tribulations, the better. Lovino let his fingertips brush the heated skin lightly, he could almost smell Antonio's shampoo and feel his soft wavy locks against his cheek. 'Stop it,' he chastised himself mentally, the mattress squeaking in protest as he turned on his side and shoved his pillow over his head. He shouldn't let this bother him, the only thing to do at this point was to confront Antonio about it and hear what the boy had to say. Then he could further investigate the matter and decide the Spaniard's motives.

Lovino shut his eyes and willed his weary mind to sleep, he felt that only a few drowsy minutes had passed when a shrill beep pierced the air. "Stop Feli," he mumbled tiredly, turning over and cracking his reluctant eyes open slightly. He stared curiously at the glowing blob of orange facing him, blinking a few times until the blurry image sharpened, and gazing even longer until the numbers he watched made sense to his dazed mind. 'I swear I set the alarm for six,' he thought to himself, slowly pulling his weighted body from the mattress and sliding his bare feet to the cold floor. He knew he should probably be moving more quickly, it was already a quarter past six and, despite what one might think, Antonio tended to be punctual, but he couldn't will himself to move at anything above a sluggish pace.

Lovino padded into the bathroom and quietly closed the door behind him before clicking on the light. He cursed at his reflection once it was illuminated in the toothpaste speckled mirror, his eye was decorated in a flurry of red and brown splotches. It was almost as if his face was celebrating the autumn weather he thought to himself wryly as he plucked his toothbrush out of its holder and squirted a generous glob of toothpaste on its bristles. Lovino flicked back off the light and re-entered the dorm as he brushed, walking lightly to his dresser to change his pants. He pulled on a pair of khaki corduroys and, after tugging his pajama shirt off, pulled on a light blue button up. Once dressed, he plodded back to the bathroom and spit the minty foam into the sink, not bothering to turn the light back on as he rinsed his mouth out with water and spit again. The Italian hesitated in front of the window on the way to his closet, he pressed his palm against it and then his cheek, trying to determine if the weather garnered a jacket. Deciding it was better to err on the safe side, Lovino trudged to his closet and pulled down a gray puffy vest, that way he could insulate himself if he was cold without looking like a nutcase. And, if he was honest, the older Italian thought he looked cool in it.

Lovino stuffed his feet into a pair of caramel leather loafers and padded to the door, not bothering to run a brush through his bed-rumpled hair before pushing through the doorway and entering the silent hallway. He stood hesitantly in front of his dorm for a minute, wondering if he shouldn't just go back to bed and pretend he had forgotten about the trip or had slept through his alarm, but he knew Antonio wouldn't have any problem in going up to the room to find him, so the effort would be useless. And, if he was really honest with himself, he was looking forward to the trip. He didn't want to admit it, not to himself or anyone else, but he enjoyed his time spent with Antonio. Despite how annoying the Spaniard tended to be, he had a way of lifting Lovino's mood, even if no one besides the Italian would ever realize it.

Lovino rolled his shoulders back, sighing at the satisfying pop that resounded between his shoulder blades before trudging down the stairs towards the blue autumn morning. He cast his eyes to the indigo sky, it was marred with flat-bottomed puffy clouds and a few faint still-shining stars. He hummed at the serenity of the scene and watched curiously as a slight evanescent mist escaped from between his pink lips. Lovino stuffed his hands into his vest pockets and shuffled towards the parking lot, kicking at the small rocks that littered the sidewalk. It was going to be a perfect fall day, the Italian pondered as he trudged to the edge of the sidewalk and craned his neck to scan the parking lot for Antonio's red car. Lovino crossed his arms in front of his chest and tried not to shiver, he couldn't spot the Spaniard's vehicle, but he wasn't sure if he should continue to wait outside or in the studio. Before Lovino had the chance to decide, a pair of warm glowing headlights turned into the lot and eased slowly over to the sidewalk. The Italian bent his knees to peer into the reflecting window when the car rolled up next to him, and when he caught sight of Antonio's beaming face he reached out for the door and yanked it open, refusing to meet the Spaniard's eyes again as he slid into the car and started fussing with his seat belt.

"Buenos días, Lovi," Antonio said cheerfully, keeping his foot on the brake as he watched the Italian pull his seat into a more rigid position. "Did you sleep well?" He persisted, determined to make the older Italian converse with him.

Lovino only shrugged and turned his head to Antonio, "can we just go already?" He demanded.

Antonio gasped when he spotted the Italian's multi-colored eye socket and down shifted the car into park so he could reach across the middle console and place a hand on Lovino's reddening cheek. "Wh-what are you doing?" Lovino sputtered, despite the throbbing below his eyebrow, he had forgotten the state of his eye in his tumultuous thoughts, and the Spaniard's reaction had shocked him back into awareness. "It's fine, bastard, just leave it alone," the Italian pulled his head towards the window, out of Antonio's reach.

Antonio dropped his hand and nodded slightly, worry still glinting in his eyes as he sighed and shifted the car back into drive. "I brought you some coffee," he said, motioning towards the drink holder with his elbow as he pulled the car slowly from the sparse parking lot and into the empty street. Lovino took the hot cup gratefully and sipped it slowly as he watched the warm orange glow of the street lights whizz past his window. The Italian gazed, hypnotized at the way the tips of the black, silhouetted trees rocked lazily with the gentle autumn breeze. It was so odd, he pondered, that a breeze so comfortable and tender could disturb the trees so deeply that they would drop their leaves in fear of its presence.

"How long is the drive?" Lovino asked when he was finally able to pull his mind from his peaceful dawn surroundings.

"About two and a half hours as long as we don't hit heavy traffic," Antonio replied, tapping the steering wheel lightly as if his mind was lost to an unheard song.

"What are the chances of us hitting traffic?" Lovino pressed, not keen on the idea of spending a second more than the two and a half hours he was promised with the Spaniard.

Antonio let out a small hum in contemplation, "I'm taking a lot of back roads so we should be ok."

Lovino slipped his drink back into its holder and wiped his tingling lips on his knuckle, "you're not going to get us lost are you?" He asked, irritation already tugging at his mind.

Antonio only laughed. "I'm a man, I never get lost," he teased, glancing over at Lovino to give the boy a quick wink.

"Keep your eyes on the road, Bastard," Lovino snapped, slumping back into his seat and crossing his arms in front of his chest when the back of his neck heated from the attention. The Italian sighed and leaned his head against the cold glass when Antonio didn't immediately respond, as uncomfortable as he was with his company, he had to admit that the drive was peaceful. Early morning and late night were the most beautiful parts of the day, they were so rarely seen, so rarely appreciated, but in a way it was that loneliness that made them so enchanting.

"This is nice, right?" Antonio broke the peaceful silence, he sounded as smitten with the autumn morning as Lovino felt, but the Italian didn't dare agree. The Spaniard seemed to wait for a response before growing impatient and sighing, "c'mon, Lovi, talk to me." Lovino didn't blink, didn't nod, and tried his best not to breathe, he didn't want to have a conversation with Antonio, it was early and he'd prefer to sit in silence.

Antonio gave up on the Italian for the time-being and hummed quietly to himself, lost in thought. "Hey, Lovi?" The Spaniard paused, but upon receiving no answer continued, "what's your favorite color?"

Lovino wanted to ignore Antonio, but it was apparent the boy wasn't going to allow him his peace so easily, and he was finding his stupidity hard to disregard. "What the fuck does it matter?" He spat, picking his head back up from the window and drawing his eyebrows into a scowl.

Antonio only shrugged, "I just want to know, what's your favorite color?"

"What's yours?" Lovino snapped back, he had meant the question as a retaliation, but immediately regretted it when he realized Antonio would have no problem responding.

"Mmm, that's easy, red." Antonio replied, "so now you know mine, what's yours?"

Lovino definitely wasn't going to answer now, or at least not honestly. He didn't want to imagine what kind of inane reaction the Spaniard would have if he realized he and the Italian had a shared interest. "It's none of your business," Lovino answered simply, feeling a little embarrassed of his immature response.

Antonio jumped to a new question, completely unfazed, "ok then, what's your favorite number?"

"That's stupid," Lovino growled, turning his head as far away from Antonio as possible.

The Spaniard nodded in understanding, "hmm, you might be right. Fine, then what's your favorite sport?"

"I don't play sports." Lovino grumbled.

"Favorite instrument? Favorite game? Favorite movie?"

Lovino shook his head at each one, he hoped Antonio would think he just refused to play his games, and while that was partially true, he was also steadily becoming aware of how lame he really was. He didn't have any interests, not besides printmaking anyway, and he certainly didn't have any talents.

Antonio sighed and mimicked slamming his head on the steering wheel, "you're killing me here," the Spaniard lamented, "why won't you just talk to me, Lovi?"

Lovino felt his heart beating rapidly against his chest, he suddenly understood what it was like to be that organ, trapped in a too-small space: he was his heart and his ribcage was this vehicle, and currently all he wanted to do was burst out of its metal walls and be free of the tormenting influences within. "Fine, you want to talk about something?" He spat finally, jerking his head to face Antonio when the pressure became too much. "Let's talk about how you lied to me."

Antonio's eyebrows knit in confusion and he threw a quick glance at Lovino before turning his eyes back to the road, "lied?" He reiterated hesitantly, "I don't know what you're-"

"Bullshit." Lovino accused immediately, "why did you invite me on this trip anyway?"

"I told you, no one else could go-"

"Bullshit!" Lovino cried again, slamming his right first against the side of the door, "Feliciano didn't even know about it!"

Antonio shrugged lightly and gave a small, half-hearted laugh, "well that's easy, it's because I didn't invite him."

"Well why the hell not?" Lovino pressed, anger pulsing through his veins at Antonio's cocky and amused face.

Antonio dipped his head down in frustration before straightening up again, "why do you always have to talk about Feli?"

Lovino's mouth gaped open as he tried to process what Antonio had said, "don't change the subject, Bastard, I asked you a question!"

"So did I," Antonio continued, undeterred, "why can't something just be about you? Why does it always have to come back to your brother?"

"It does come back to him right now," Lovino argued, pitch rising as his irritation mounted, "and everything doesn't always come back to him."

"Doesn't it?" Antonio asked simply, throwing the fuming Italian a knowing look.

Lovino sat silently for a moment, body trembling slightly as he processed the Spaniard's cocky behavior. The man didn't know anything about him, he didn't know anything about his brother, and he certainly didn't know shit about their relationship. "What are you doing?" Antonio asked hesitantly, turning his eyes from the road again when he heard Lovino struggling with this seatbelt.

"Fuck you!" The Italian roared, ripping the sash away from his body and yanking the door lock up.

"Hey, stop!" Antonio yelled, reaching an arm out to grab Lovino by the elbow when he realized what the Italian was about to do and cursing when the car swerved to the left. "Shit," he barked, pulling the car quickly to the side of the road when the Italian threw the door open and stumbled out of the car when it had barely come to a stop.

Antonio stared straight ahead, both hands trembling on the steering wheel as he tried to process what had happened. Finally he jerked his vision up to his rearview mirror and scrambled to release his seatbelt at the sight of the Italian's receding back. "Wait! Lovi!" Antonio gasped, tripping out of the car in his haste and jogging after the fuming boy.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" Lovino snapped back, speeding up his pace and balling his fists at his sides.

Antonio sighed and quickened his steps, easily matching the Italian's speed, "don't be stupid, we're thirty miles away from school, there's no way you can walk back." The Spaniard reasoned, placing a hesitant hand on the boy's round shoulder and grimacing when it was slapped away. "Lovi," Antonio tried again, taking a few long steps so he was facing the Italian, "Lovi you're being ridiculous," he said sternly, grabbing the boy by his wrist to hold him in place.

Lovino struggled under the strong grasp, "let go you stupid Bastard," he snarled, jerking his wrist back in a feeble attempt to break free.

"No," Antonio responded resolutely, "I'll bring you back if you're so dead-set on it, but if you back to school, it's going to be in my car."

"Fuck you, I'm not getting in that car again," Lovino argued immediately, his flailing movements ebbing as exhaustion flooded through his tired body.

"Lovi," Antonio sighed, growing frustrated with the small boy but refusing to give in to his irritation, "why are you so mad?" He pressed, staring the boy in the eyes as he searched for his answer in the glistening hazel irises.

"I don't hide behind Feliciano!" Lovino yelled back, chest heaving from the effort.

"I didn't say-"

"Do you know who's had to watch out for Feliciano all this time, Antonio?" Lovino interrupted, an unstable look in his wide eyes. "It wasn't our parents, and it sure as hell wasn't that damn Roderich," he continued not waiting for a response. "So fuck you." Lovino knew it didn't make any sense, he wanted to tell Antonio that his life had become Feliciano ever since his father left and his mother had died. He didn't have interests or hobbies, he spent his time making sure Feliciano was happy, and that Feliciano was safe and thriving. So if his own identity had gotten lost in the process, it was a sacrifice he had been willing to make, and he didn't need anyone judging him for it.

"I-" Antonio began, confusion tracing his features, "I'm sorry." He decided, not daring to press the matter. "Are you ok?"

Lovino nodded slightly, he wasn't ok, he felt stupid and boring. He was just starting to realize that it wasn't that he didn't want love, but that he didn't deserve it. He had nothing to offer to a relationship, or at least, the things he did have-like his temper and insecurities-were hardly desirable. Lovino was suddenly struck with the realization that his aversion to relationships might have been a defense mechanism to keep himself blissfully unaware of the fact that there was nothing in him to love, and it made him want to vomit, to cry, to hide away until his body rotted away to nothing.

Lovino gasped slightly when Antonio pulled the Italian into his warm chest and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. The two stood that way for a while, only the sound of a few chirping birds and the rustling of trees interrupting the silence. Antonio buried his nose into the small Italian's messy brunette locks and breathed deeply, smiling lightly when he felt Lovino shiver in his arms. He didn't understand the boy at all, but he knew what it looked like to feel the earth shattering beneath your feet, and he couldn't stand by and watch the ground swallow the Italian up. He didn't mind being a lifesaver, especially if it meant peaceful moments like this one. After what seemed a few seconds, but in reality was a few minutes, Antonio released his grasp and lovingly combed the Italian's bangs back from his forehead.

"Are you ok?" Antonio asked again, peering into the boy's down-turned eyes.

"Fine now that you've stopped groping me," Lovino muttered in pretend anger, trying to hide the traitorous blush marring his cheeks.

"Do you still want to go back to the school?" Antonio asked, a smile creeping back into his lips when Lovino shook his head once.

"We've gone this far, I might as well get a damn scone out of it," Lovino sighed, straightening his shoulders back up and turning to head towards the car.

"Hey Lovi," Antonio called after the boy, walking behind him to the abandoned vehicle.

"Hmm?" Lovino replied simply, not bothering to turn around.

"What's your favorite color?" Antonio teased, laughing slightly at his own joke.

Lovino only sighed and rolled his shoulders, "red," he muttered under his breath.