A/N: *looks away with guilt-ridden eyes* I'm SO sorry for the late update, everyone! The last time I updated, I was busy getting ready for NaNoWriMo, then school got crazy... But I finally finished this chapter from a billion months ago. I apologize for the slowness of the beginning- there's a lot I have to set up. Thanks for bearing with me, and as always, your reviews/comments/follows/faves make me SO happy and they really help me keep going! Thanks for your support, everyone! Now, on with the story~

So bright…

Ludwig blinked his eyes open. The sunlight from the window across the studio had finally filtered in through the shutters, and it was bright enough to waken him. He groaned softly and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. Briefly, he closed his eyes and tried to recall the dream that slowly faded from his memory. What had he dreamt about? In the short span of time it took for him to fully awaken, he had already forgotten.

The only detail he remembered was a snowy tundra—a far cry from Vernazza, which was already fairly warm in the early morning.

Ludwig sat up and stretched out his cramped limbs. The atmosphere was pleasantly quiet—Feliciano was surely still sleeping… as was the rest of the village, from the sound of it. He tried to keep the noise he made to a minimum as he crossed the room and opened the shutters. No one was on the street below the window. He peered out at one of the docks floating on the water, and he saw someone there. It looked like a man, perhaps only a few years older than Ludwig. After a moment, he internally scolded himself for staring for so long.

Without thinking much about it, he returned to the sofa and tidied it up. He pulled his pants on and he folded his jacket neatly atop the armrest. Ludwig frowned when he glanced at the stain on the shirt he had slept in—surely it was from supper the night before. He took it off so that he would remember to wash it later.

Before he could stop himself, Ludwig began to tidy up the whole area.

Had it not been so early, he might have gotten to work on the apartment already. His eyes darted to where Feliciano had obviously abandoned his work plastering the hallway walls. Though his hands itched to do the work, his mind told him to wait for Feliciano's directions. After all, he reminded himself, this apartment belonged to Feliciano's father, in reality. He had not been nervous until he thought about that fact.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Feliciano!" someone called, in a loud voice, from outside. It was a woman, by the sound of it. She muttered something under her breath before shouting again in Italian. Then again: "Feliciano!" Ludwig heard a great thump from the bedroom down the hall, and only a moment later, the artist in question came barreling through the doorway.

"Elizaveta, mi dispiace!" Feliciano called back.

This early in the morning, and he is already apologizing, thought Ludwig. At least, that is what he thought he heard. He still had much to learn.

Ludwig thought that Feliciano was going to run past him and directly to the hallway, so he stepped to the side and resumed tidying up, but he felt his cheeks burn red when the other man stopped in his tracks.

"Ludwig," the other man said, smiling drowsily. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he said nothing further. They stood like that for a few moments, and it wasn't until then that Ludwig remembered he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Feliciano," Ludwig replied sternly. "The door."

"Ah, y-yes!" said Feliciano as he stumbled over his feet toward the hallway. He shouted something to the woman at the door, and they proceeded to converse in this fashion. Ludwig wondered why the woman at the door did not simply come inside so they did not have to shout, but by the tone of the conversation, he guessed that Feliciano was late.

Feliciano breathed a sigh and rubbed his hands over his eyes as he entered the doorway.

"Eh… I woke up late, but Elizaveta is letting me work later today," Feliciano explained with a chuckle. A smile still tugged at his lips, and he looked Ludwig directly in the eyes as he spoke. "Let me get dressed, and then we will go together, eh?"

After they were dressed and had a very quick breakfast, (much too quick, according to Feliciano) they walked behind the apartment and boarded Feliciano's bicycle, much like they had when they first entered Vernazza. He patted Ludwig reassuringly on the shoulder, "We have a few stops to make," he said, "But do not worry—I will tell you where to go!"

First was the fish monger's place.

"Antonio!" Feliciano called. He jumped off of the bicycle and motioned for Ludwig to follow him. The shorter man turned and said quietly, "His English is not so good… I will translate for you!"

Ludwig nodded his head in reply.

"And he likes to, ah, grab people," Feliciano explained further. Ludwig made a face, and he laughed, "With his hands, you know—Ah, not grab, ah… he likes to touch!"

Before he could finish, the man known as Antonio appeared at the doorway.

Ludwig recognized him as the man he saw on the docks earlier that morning, but he had a far different idea as to what the man was like. The man on the docks seemed so quiet and serious, and it looked like he might have carried the weight of the world on his shoulders by how pensive he appeared. The man in the doorway, however, was exactly how Feliciano described him.

Antonio stepped forward and immediately took Ludwig's hand in his own, and began to speak very quickly in Italian. His smile was so warm and friendly—Ludwig had never been greeted this way by a stranger before. He wanted to return the smile, but his nerves got the better of him, and he managed what felt like a panicked wince. Thankfully, Feliciano intervened and explained.

A moment later, Antonio gave a long "Oh!" in understanding.

"German?" the man asked, still smiling wide. He looked like he could have been Feliciano's older brother in another life.

"Ah, yes…" said Ludwig, not knowing how else to reply.

Antonio nodded slowly; the smile never disappeared from his face. Then, he pointed his index finger squarely at his own chest and proclaimed, "Spanish." He did not say anything else for a moment, but the subtext behind his words sounded like "We're both foreigners here, then." Ludwig nodded and finally managed to smile.

The fisherman laughed and placed a hand on Ludwig's forearm and continued in his overtly friendly manner.

"He says you are welcome to eat at his house any time," Feliciano translated, "And if you ever need a ride to the train station, he says he will drive you." Antonio then smiled devilishly and murmured something to Feliciano, who laughed and shoved him playfully in reply. Ludwig's cheeks flushed red, and his eyebrows furrowed—he did not need a translation to know what Antonio had suggested.

The people of Vernazza shared many of Feliciano's qualities; the fisherman shared his kindness and honesty, the florist shared his love of conversation, and everyone in the village shared a collective warmth that Ludwig had not witnessed in the places he had been. He had only just met them all, but they conversed with him like they had been friends for their entire lives.

After Feliciano ordered the lumber from the shop, he returned to the bicycle, wearing a big smile.

"He says the lumber will be here in a week," he explained.

Ludwig nodded. A week would give him ample time to draw up his plans and begin working on the areas that Feliciano had already started.

"I will get started, then," said Ludwig.

"Without meeting Elizaveta first?" Feliciano retorted. He grinned and nudged Ludwig on the arm with his elbow. "She won't like that! Come—the bakery is just over here. Then I promise you can go home and work."

His gut wound into a tight, uncomfortable knot. Meet Feliciano's boss? The woman yelling at him earlier that morning? Ludwig tried to keep the dread from his face.

The smells that came from the bakery, however, immediately quelled Ludwig's fears. Wafting scents of baking bread and sweets filled his nostrils, and a heavy pang of homesickness hit his chest. He remembered the small bakery at the end of the street he lived on in Munich—he had not been there in years. But this bakery pulled him back into the moments when the owner shoved sweets into his and Gilbert's hands to take home, even when they did not have any money to spare. Ludwig must have smiled, because Feliciano met his eyes and grinned, "Elizaveta's bread smells very good, yes?"

"Yes," Ludwig said. "It reminds me of…"

His voice trailed off, and Feliciano looked at him with expectant eyes, but they were interrupted.

"Feliciano!" Elizaveta sang, putting her hands on her waist. The look she gave him mirrored a mother's scolding eyes. She continued on in Italian, and Feliciano waved his hands energetically as he spoke to her. He glanced at Ludwig before saying something else, and Elizaveta's gaze turned to Ludwig.

She smiled sweetly, "Ah, Ludwig, is it? It is very nice to meet you. I'm Elizaveta."

Ludwig bristled—she spoke in very clear German.

He had no idea how to reply at first, except for with shock. His eyes immediately met hers.

"You… You speak German?" Ludwig replied, relieved to use his native tongue for the first time in days.

"A little, yes," the woman replied. She was being humble. Ludwig supposed that she learned German from an Austrian teacher, judging by her dialect choices. "Feliciano says that you are going to help him repair his apartment, hm?"

"Ah, yes, I was a carpenter back home."

Elizaveta giggled behind an elegant hand, "How lucky he was to meet you. A handsome, German carpenter." She leaned over the counter and tapped his forearm with her slender fingers, smiling up at him. "Please take care of him, won't you?"

Ludwig wasn't sure why, but he blushed.

"And make sure he isn't late tomorrow!" Elizaveta laughed. She finally turned to Feliciano and punched his arm, rattling something off in Italian. Feliciano swatted her hand away and stepped toward Ludwig.

"See how she abuses me?" he chuckled. "Ah, anyway, you want to start working, no? I will return to the apartment after my shift is over! Please eat anything in the apartment—what is mine, is yours."

Ludwig furrowed his eyebrows in thought. He was overly kind—he did not want to make his gracious host walk all the way back to the apartment.

"I will ride back and pick you up," he explained simply. "What time are you finished?"

Feliciano looked surprised at first, but he smiled after a moment, "Six."

"Then I will be here at six. No later," Ludwig replied.

He thought his offer was what anyone should have offered to do in his situation, but Feliciano looked like he had just been given a million Deutschmarks. He crept onto the tips of his toes and planted two rapid kisses on both of Ludwig's cheeks. Ludwig froze in place, and his face burned with embarrassment. Feliciano's hand lingered on his chest, and he glanced at it with nervous eyes. He had forgotten about that custom.

"You are too kind, Ludwig!" he laughed breathily. Then he shoved him playfully on the arm. "Ah, we both have work to do, no? Go on, I will see you later!"

Ludwig touched his hand to his cheek as Feliciano ushered him out, barely recalling getting back on the bicycle. His fingertips grazed the spot where the man had kissed his cheek before he grasped the bicycle handle.

He was only being nice, Ludwig. Just like the others here in Vernazza. He told himself, shaking his head. Do not think any more on it.