Antonio hummed to himself as he lazily watched the yellow blur of passing fields of wheat. He glanced over to the passenger seat for what seemed the millionth time in the past thirty minutes and smiled lightly at the sight of the Italian sleeping in it. Lovino had fought a furious battle against sleep when they had re-entered the car, Antonio had pretended that he didn't noticed when the boy's head bobbed forward from time to time, only to be whipped back up when it's owner snapped awake. Now that he was nearing his destination, he suddenly wished it was another hour or two away. Lovino was sleeping so deeply, face nestled against the cold window in what Antonio imagined had to be an uncomfortable position. He had almost considered nudging the boy awake and offering to let him lay down in the back seat, but he was worried the action might embarrass the boy, and the last thing he wanted was another emotional outburst.

Antonio sighed lightly and rolled his shoulders against his seat, craning his neck in an attempt to release the cricks in his back. He had suspected the boy was lying about the amount of sleep he had been getting. Despite his best efforts to act strong and uncaring, Lovino always looked exhausted, and his quick temper indicated sleeplessness. Antonio glanced to the side again, eyes softening with adoration when he saw the corner of the Italian's mouth twitch from what he suspected must be a dream. He couldn't judge the boy too harshly, he hadn't been completely honest either. While he certainly wasn't as bad off as Lovino, the truth was that his work load had become taxing as of late. It wasn't his meal-times with the Italian causing it, though they certainly weren't helping matters either. Even this weekend outing was a farce, he'd heard about the scones in passing and had been mildly interested, but what he really desired was to spend time with Lovino. If they were in a car together, the boy would have no choice but to finally open up, and Antonio was desperate to learn more about him.

Antonio spotted a mile marker and cursed mentally when he saw he only had fifteen more miles to his destination. He didn't know why he was so obsessed with Lovino recently. There was just something about him, something the Spaniard couldn't quite put his finger on, and in some ways it was that enigmatic quality that made him so fascinating. Antonio had always been good at acting politely interested in the tribulations and stories of others, but with Lovino the attention was genuine. He wanted to know more about the boy's parents, about Austria, about whoever the hell Roderich was, it felt important to know, like the information should be innate. There was something so interesting about his temperament, he knew most people would just assume the Italian was ill-tempered and leave it at that, but to Antonio it felt more complex. Lovino was often irritated, but his anger always seemed directed, almost purposeful, only the Spaniard had yet to decide for what purpose it might be yielded. He often wondered if even the Italian knew.

Antonio shot his eyes to the side again when a sharp intake of breath caught his attention, he pretended he didn't notice when Lovino shot upright in his seat and quickly rubbed the small spot of drool off the window with the cuff of his sleeve. "Have a good nap?" Antonio asked lightly, flicking his vision towards the Italian and trying not to laugh when he noticed the way the hair on the side of his head stuck straight up, disturbed by the pressure against the glass.

Lovino scowled slightly and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to clear the blurriness from his vision. "I was just resting my eyes," he mumbled, desperately fighting the blush that tried to fill his cheeks.

"I've never heard of someone that snores while awake," Antonio pondered teasingly, not looking at the Italian but feeling the angry look focused on him.

"I don't snore!" Lovino snapped back, before remembering his earlier lie and slumping back in his seat. "And I wasn't sleeping anyway," he grumbled, sighing as he let his still heavy head fall back against the glass. "How far away are we?"

Antonio shrugged lightly and grinned, "shouldn't you know, if you were awake I mean."

Lovino was growing tired of the Spaniard's incessant ridicule, he knew he had been sleeping and he knew Antonio knew it, but he wished the subject could be dropped. "Fine, if you don't want to tell me, then just forget it."

Antonio glanced over at the Italian's sour face, "don't be mad, Lovi, I was only kidding."

"Well don't." Lovino shot back, jerking his head from the window so he could level an angry stare at the Spaniard's turned face.

"But it's fun to tease friends-"

"We're not friends." Lovino returned immediately, watching Antonio's features for any sign of a reaction, and becoming disappointed when he spotted none.

Antonio slowed down the car and flicked on his turning signal, "if you say so," he said lightly. "Anyway, we're here."

Lovino craned his neck to see the destination through the cloud of dust blowing from the gravel road. The stand wasn't much to look at, it was a long, open cement building. The only indication of it's use was a large field of apple trees positioned all around it. It was beautiful, though, Lovino pondered, at least in it's own way. Waves of mountains surrounded the area, sloping gently against the sky like giant bodies laid down to rest, and the well-worn building slumped into the ground, kneeling in it's crumbling foundation from years of use. Lovino stretched his arms above his head as Antonio pulled into a parking spot, bending his forearms behind his back as the lethargy of the area overwhelmed him. "This better be worth it," he warned through a yawn, letting his arms slump back to his side before reaching for the door handle.

"Wait," Antonio said suddenly, grabbing the Italian by the elbow and laughing lightly at the boy's angry glare. Antonio only shook his head in a silent apology before releasing the boy's arm and positioning the rearview window so he could catch a sight of his disheveled hair.

Lovino felt blood rushing to his cheeks when he glanced at himself in the mirror, "like I care," he shrugged, reaching for the door handle with his opposite hand as he tried to casually pat down his hair with the other.

Antonio chuckled and reached for his own door, "well I thought it was sort of cute but I didn't want to get yelled at later."

"Haven't you talked enough today?" Lovino grumbled, folding his arms in front of his chest from what he hoped looked like anger, but was really just a defense against the bitter wind.

"Not even close," Antonio laughed, glancing over his shoulder to throw the hunched boy a toothy smile.

Lovino rolled his eyes and shook his head at the heavens, "you didn't tell me this place was outside," he growled, tightening his arms around his chest when another gust of crisp autumn wind twisted the clothes around his thin body.

Antonio stopped walking to let the Italian catch up and dropped an arm around his thin shoulders when he paced next to him, "didn't I? I guess I just assumed you knew."

Lovino shrugged off Antonio's arm and quickened his pace into the crumbling stone building, at least the walls could offer him shelter from the wind, if not from the frigid outside air. "How would I know?"

Antonio trailed closely behind the boy, a slight smile working its way across his lips when he smelled the spicy and familiar scent of baking pastries. "Are you cold?" He asked, trying to diffuse any accumulating frustrations in the small Italian.

"I'm fine." Lovino replied quickly, relaxing his shoulders a little when he paced up to a trough of apples and found himself surrounded by lazily browsing consumers. It was a hard balance he realized, between keeping Antonio at a distance and trying to appear unassuming to those around him. If he was loud and angry, he would draw attention, but if he wasn't, the Spaniard might get the wrong idea. Lovino picked up an apple and sighed as he moved his fingers across its green waxy skin, in truth it didn't matter how he acted, Antonio seemed impervious to his foul moods. He placed the apple back when he felt the older boy closing in behind him and shuffled over to a barrel of okra. He realized that if Antonio was feeling like there was a connection between them, that they were friends, then it was his fault for leading him to that conclusion. He didn't know why he was revealing so much to Antonio, it felt good to share some of his burden, but the comfort was fleeting and quickly replaced by a deep sense of guilt and foreboding.

Lovino moved on to a table of oddly-shaped squash when he heard Antonio's shuffling feet, every time he heard the Spaniard approach him he was hit with an overwhelming sense of panic and disgust. His fingertips radiated with painful nerves as he tried to keep his face as neutral as possible, he hated that he had lied to himself and been put in this uncomfortable situation, because the truth was he had wanted Antonio to feel close to him. The truth was he had never really expected to find something in the Spaniard to hate, or at least he had hoped he wouldn't. The truth was, that for a brief moment in time, Lovino had believed that maybe it would be ok to form a relationship with Antonio, that maybe he deserved a happy ending, too. And the truth was, that now, because he had allowed himself to get to know someone outside his brother, who was obligated to love him, he had been forced to realize how unworthy of love he really was.

Lovino jumped when a warm palm enveloped his shoulder, "found something interesting?" He felt shivers run down his spine at the warm timbre of the gentle voice, and he blinked heavily, willing his mind to catch up with its surroundings. "I like strawberry preserves myself, but I've always wanted to try the jalepeño," Antonio continued, moving next to the Italian and picking up a jar of jelly from the large wooden shelf the pair stood before.

"I-" Lovino hesitated, unsure if he should pretend he wasn't on the edge of a mental breakdown, "Can I have the car keys?"

"Why?" Antonio asked as he placed the glass jar back on the shelf, "you're not going to go on a joy ride are you?" He teased, slipping his hand into his pocket and wrapping his fingers against the cool plastic of the fob.

Lovino knit his eyebrows in frustration, "I want to wait in the car." He said simply, irritated that the Spaniard was requesting an explanation.

Antonio gazed over the Italian's flushed face and his features softened with sympathy, "are you too cold?"

Lovino opened his mouth to argue, but changed his mind, deciding it was best not to press the issue. "Yes," he said simply, trembling for emphasis.

Antonio nodded and fished his keys out of his pocket, depositing them in the Italian's outstretched palm, "go ahead and turn the heat on, I'm just going to buy a few things and I'll be right right there." Lovino lowered his chin once in understanding before shuffling away to the parking lot. He jammed his thumb on the unlock button when Antonio's vibrant red car came into view and looked around at the sloping hills surrounding him one last time before climbing into the quickly cooling interior. He didn't turn the engine on like the Spaniard had instructed, he didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself, and if he was honest, he felt guilty for using up the gas. Lovino tossed the keys into the driver seat and sighed, letting his head drop heavily against the headrest. He hated himself for being in such a funk, and he knew the self-loathing wasn't helping his situation. He felt transparent and ephemeral, like a cheap projection, everything he had ever known about himself was being thrown into question, because Antonio had been right. Everything in Lovino's life did come back to Feliciano, because taking care of his brother was the only purpose he served, the only thing he was good at. And if he was honest, he was terrified-terrified that once Feliciano matured, once he didn't need his brother anymore, that Lovino would disappear. He forced his brother to keep his relationships at a distance because he couldn't allow anyone else to take care of him, to take over his job, otherwise he would become invisible, no longer mattering to anyone.

Lovino shot his head up when a soft knock sounded at his window. He looked up at the Spaniard's smiling face as he gestured for him to unlock the doors. Lovino considered not doing it, he wanted to curl his knees up under his chin and sit there forever, speeding up the process of his dematerialization before the world could do it against his will, but something in Antonio's warm eyes made him change his mind, and he found himself reaching a trembling arm out to click up the locks before he had completely weighed his options. Lovino listened intently as Antonio trudged around the car, crunching the rough gravel under his feet, and tried not to shake when the driver's door was jerked open. "I got some great stuff," Antonio called to the Italian as he placed his items on the roof and leaned into the car to grab the two half-filled coffee cups. He emptied the cooling contents on the ground and threw the newly-empty cups in the back seat before reaching back to the car's roof and placing a pair of steaming mugs into the drink holder. "It's apple cider, they had samples, it's really good," Antonio explained as he lowered himself into the car, reaching his arm to the roof and grabbing a grease-splotched bag from its surface. He placed the bag in his lap and reached to shift the car into gear, "I got turnovers and scones and muffins and-"Antonio hesitated and tilted his head to study the ignition. "Why didn't you start the car?"

Lovino shrugged lightly and turned his head to the window, unsure if he could keep his mind's torments from becoming readily evident on his pale features. "I thought you were cold," Antonio pressed, studying the Italian's hunched posture as he waited for an answer. "Where are the keys?" He said after a minute of silence.

"You're sitting on them," Lovino mumbled, refusing to turn his face from the window's cold surface.

Antonio laughed half-heartedly and pushed his pelvis up, digging his hand around the seat until his fingers brushed against the cool metal. He pushed the key into the ignition and revved the engine before pressing his foot onto the brake and shifting into reverse. He started to move his foot from the brake to the gas and paused, "they told me about a mountain trail up here that's really nice to hike," he said, hesitating when the Italian didn't move. "Do you want to go?"

Lovino bit the inside of his cheek, he didn't want to go, all he wanted was to be back in his studio, back in a place where he had a purpose and things made sense, but he also didn't want to call attention to himself. He didn't want to give Antonio a reason to find out more about him and to discover how little there was to learn. "Do what you want." He mumbled after a while, wrapping his arms around his chest when the car eased into motion.

Antonio hummed lightly as he headed down the mountainous roads, searching for the wooden marker that was supposed to indicate the hiking trails. He knew he had made the wrong decision, Lovino wanted to go home and as oblivious as he knew he could be, that fact had been made abundantly clear. Yet, while he knew the Italian's desires, he had no idea why he felt the way he did. He couldn't decipher if it was anger or sadness or something else putting the boy in such a despondent mood, but he wanted to know the cause, and he wanted to make it better. Antonio flicked on his turning signal when he finally spotted the old mile marker and eased his acceleration as he took the sharp turn. He could understand why locals would treasure this spot, the well-worn road was littered with fallen limbs and golden beams of sun filtered through the red and orange leaves, making the dust glisten in the still air. It was easy to forget time and place in the area, the trees and hills blocked any sight of the roads, and the sound of the wind through the leaves effectively blocked the noise of any passing cars. "This is nice, huh?" Antonio sighed contentedly when he pulled the car into a grassy lot and down shifted into park.

Antonio sighed when Lovino didn't immediately answer and pulled his drink from the cup holder, blowing through the tiny opening before taking a small sip. He smiled lightly when the warm taste of caramel and spicy apples swirled over his tongue, "you should try your cider, Lovi, it's really good." He encouraged, lips drooping slightly when he received no response. "Lovi?" He tried again, the boy's face was completely turned from him, parallel to the window, and for a moment Antonio wondered if he had fallen asleep.

"Hmm," Lovino answered back simply, not wanting to be drawn into a conversation with the Spaniard, but feeling disturbed by his desperate tone.

"Are you still mad about earlier?" Antonio tried, continuing when the Italian didn't reply, "because I-"

"I'm not mad." Lovino said simply, grimacing at the way his voice caught.

Antonio nodded to himself, he was glad that the Italian wasn't angry, but in some ways he preferred the boy's loquacious temper to his silent suffering. "Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Lovino answered quickly. It wasn't completely a lie, he pondered, because if he was nothing, then his emotions must be, too.

Antonio sighed and turned his head towards the passenger seat, leaning his cheek against the headrest, "Lovi, I want to ask you something, but I don't want you to get mad."

Lovino scoffed and watched with fascination at the way the window fogged from his warm breath, "I make no promises."

Antonio laughed knowingly and took a deep breath, "I want to ask you this, and I want you to not take it personally." He watched the Italian hesitantly and upon receiving no acknowledgment, took the lack of reaction as permission to continue, "I want to know-I want to know if you're happy, if-if you're ever happy."

Lovino scoffed and whipped his face around to Antonio, "what is there to be happy about?"

Antonio tried not to laugh at the blotch of red on the boy's forehead, present from it's long contact with the window, and continued, "well, you go to a good school, you have a brother that loves you, and-"

"Is this supposed to be a guilt-trip? Because I'm not going to sit here and listen to a stranger tell me why I'm selfish, I hear it enough from people that actually do know me."

Antonio shook his head and had to fight the urge to comfortingly trace his fingers over the boy's soft cheek, "no, that's not what I mean, I'm not explaining it right." He sighed, slumping back against his seat.

"Happiness is useless," Lovino continued, unable to stop his speech once he had begun. "It's fickle. Anyone can affect it, anyone can give and then take it away. Why would I want something like that? It's the worst thing in the world."

Antonio listened intently, "I think that's really insightful," he blinked, studying the way the dash reflected onto the windshield. "But it's wrong."

Lovino rolled his eyes to the ceiling, uncaring. "Whatever," he replied simply, bored by the typical response.

"Do you enjoy your life?" Antonio started in immediately, ignoring the Italian's annoyed tone.

"I'm not answering that," Lovino snapped back, feeling a warm blush work its way into his cheeks. He was uncomfortable with the conversation, Antonio was digging too deep, he was too close to realizing there was nothing worth discovering.

Antonio shrugged, "it's just that, if you don't, then happiness has to be good for something."

"What the fuck do you know?" Lovino snapped, jerking his body around sideways to regard the forward facing Spaniard. "What do you want from me, an apology? I'm sorry that I'm not oblivious like you, I'm sorry that I don't think the world is all goodness and light, I'm sor-"

"I don't think the world is great," Antonio replied calmly, undisturbed by the Italian's outburst. "Can I tell you something, Lovi?"

"What?" Lovino snapped back, a little harsher than he had intended.

Antonio stayed silent for a long time, as if fighting with himself over whether he wanted to share his innermost secrets with the angry Italian. "It's just that, I-" Antonio hesitated, visibly recollecting his thoughts before continuing, "I do get affected by things." He decided, seeming more comfortable with his chosen topic.

"Like what?" Lovino grumbled, body slackening as he leaned his shoulder into his seat.

"Like when you said we're not friends," Antonio clarified, turning his head slightly to show the Italian his sad smile.

"Well-I-" Lovino stammered, he had been trying to push the Spaniard away, yet it still disturbed him to know he had upset the boy in any way.

"No, it's ok," Antonio laughed, shaking his head and sending his warm chestnut curls bouncing, "because I know it's not true."

"But I don't see what-"

"The thing is," Antonio continued, ignoring the Italian's interruption, "you can't let people and things control your mood."

Lovino knitted his eyebrows in confusion and frustration, "but if they're mean to you, then-"

"I'm not saying you can control their actions," Antonio clarified, "just that you can control how you let their actions affect you."

"You've been watching too many after school specials," Lovino sighed, turning back in his seat to stare through the windshield at the lazy falling leaves. "Life doesn't work that way."

Antonio hummed in understanding, "well I'm not saying it's easy," he said thoughtfully, "I guess more than anything I just wish you'd allow yourself to enjoy things."

"I'm just an angry person." Lovino said thoughtlessly, he had heard it so many times, it was an easy excuse to recite.

"No you're not." Antonio said simply, "you're just sensitive. And sleep-deprived and undernourished," he added thoughtfully.

"I'm not sensitive," Lovino growled back, folding his arms over his chest. In actuality, he realized he probably was, if only because his reactions were admittedly exaggerated to things most people would consider bearable, but he didn't need further reason to loathe himself, and so he chose to not address the issue.

"Try your drink," Antonio replied, deciding it was time to diffuse the touchy conversation and the Italian's mounting irritation.

Lovino complied and plucked his drink from the holder, peeling off the lid and blowing across the rippling amber surface before moving the cup to his lips. "It's good," he said thoughtfully, enjoying the way the faint taste of cinnamon and clove lingered in his warm mouth.

Antonio nodded knowingly and dug around the bag in his lap, pulling out a scone and popping it in his mouth before offering the open bag to his passenger. Lovino tilted his head as he searched the contents of the sack before reaching in and retrieving a warm, flaky-skinned turnover. The pair sat in silence for a while, both quietly enjoying the baked goods and each others company. Lovino felt better, he didn't know if it was the good food or the beautiful surroundings, he didn't dare admit it was Antonio's words, but he was regaining his solidity, and he felt he could make it through the day at least before coming to terms with the newly acquired insights into his life.

"Hey, Lovi," A voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Hmm," he replied back simply, placing the half-empty drink back in the holder and brushing his crumb-laden fingers on his corduroys.

"Did you mean what you said?" Antonio asked simply, offering no further explanation.

Lovino knew what he was asking, but didn't want to acknowledge it. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't consider me a friend?"

Lovino sighed and leaned his head back against the headrest, admitting that he cared for Antonio in any small way would mean admitting it to himself, and he was terrified of the consequences that would entail. "I don't know," he lied. It was a compromise, not as bad as saying no, but still not completely the truth.

Antonio let out a hum of understanding and nodded slightly, "I can work with that," he smiled, cocking his head to the side to study the Italian's handsome profile. "You ready to go on a hike?" Lovino nodded and reached for the door handle, yanking it open and shivering when a cold gust of wind whipped past him. He slammed the door behind him and folded his arms in front of his chest as a barrier against the cold weather. His skin was cold but it was more bearable, he felt a fire forming in his chest that wasn't present before, and when Antonio draped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in to collect more warmth, he felt the ground should sprout with flowers from the sudden heat that bloomed around him.