A Rose of Passion

I LOVE HIM

"Hey Tonio! Was ist passiert?"

Antonio snapped out of his daydreaming and looked up at the red ruby eyes staring at him. The Spaniard plastered his best smile on his face while answering cheerfully:

"Gilbo? What is it?"

The red eyed man with silver hair eyed his friend suspiciously.

"I'm the one who should be asking this! You looked so not awesome just now! What were you thinking about? Something bad?"

"No! Lo siente! It's nothing to worry about! I was just … thinking …"

Antonio's face started to lose its layback and easy-care expression. His eyes were as cold as ice and Gilbert could see a hint of anger in them. Now, Gilbert knew something was wrong … and he could guess what.

"Did something happen with the Kirkland boy?"

Antonio's face looked up, his eyes widened in surprise. How did he guess? Hesitantly, Antonio nodded before looking back at the copies he was correcting. Gilbert sighed.

"I don't know why you two don't get along! I actually like the kid! He seems like good fun! You know the pub down the road to Francis' house! I heard he was there with that Italian kid and some crazy drunk Chinese girl … or was it a guy …? There was a Japanese kid too and I heard they were all served drinks! Anyway, the awesome me was very surprise to hear that! Especially since, they're still underage! I wonder how they got served. But I heard from a very reliable source that the Kirkland boy was pretty good with alcohol! He would just drink his beer like it was water! Three full pints in one second flat! I swear that kid could be German! I'd like to meet him once and have a drink!"

"What do you want Gilbert?" Antonio asked with a low and annoyed voice. He didn't want to hear anything about HIM.

"Whoa! Hey, relax! I was just trying to cheer you up! I mean, you've got to admit that you're the one being an unawesome ass to him! Why do you hate him anyway?"

Antonio stayed quite. Yes, why did he hate him? Antonio wasn't sure … everything about the boy made his blood boil with anger and frustration. He just knew that he hated the blond English boy.

"I just do." He replied with a shrug.

"That's a really unawesome answer, Tonio."

Antonio didn't care. He couldn't let go of his anger. Even if it was irrational to hate someone for the sake of hating them … he still did. He was Spanish after all! Passion was part of him. Even a hating passion.

"Mon Dieu! What's with ze gloomy faces?" asked a tall, blond man with shoulder length hair and gorgeous blue eyes with long eyelashes. He looked at his two friends with three glasses of red wine in his hands. He put the glasses down on his living room's small table and stared questionably at Gilbert, shaking his head towards a depressed Antonio.

Francis had invited his two best friends to live with him in his house in Blackpool while he was finishing his medical degree. They hadn't had a good talk all together in a while now since all of them had been busy with their work. Gilbert had been busy with his work in an automobile garage, Antonio being a teacher assistant and replacing the original Spanish teacher because she was on maternity leave and Francis, himself, had been overly busy with his medical studies and working night shifts at the local hospital as a training experience.

"Franky … Tonio's been depressed about that kid again."

"Ah! So zat's what it is! Francis sighed. Well, what 'appened?"

"Tonio gave the kid a week of detention for not having done anything."

"Now, why would you do zat Tonio? zis doesn't resemble you. Do you 'ate 'im zat much …? Zis English boy?"

"Si, I do." whispered Antonio in his breath. He buried his attention in the copies he had brought with him over to correct. He tried to focus but his eyes couldn't recognize the words on the paper.

"Hmm … I wonder why you 'ate 'im so much … Did ze boy do anyzing to you?" the French man asked with a thoughtful frown on his face.

"… No." Antonio muttered. No, Arthur hadn't done anything wrong … and that in itself made the Spaniard mad. He wanted to see the boy's face plead him for mercy … he wanted to make him submit … he wanted to torture him and torment him both physically and mentally … he wanted crush that smirk of his … but mostly … he wanted to see those grinning emerald eyes cry and hear his voice beg him.

Ever since he had started to teach Spanish to those kids last year, even if he was merely an assistant teacher still in learning, he had been convinced that this job was for him. He had always loved kids. He enjoyed taking care of them, helping them learn and see them grow … yes, he loved kids. He had been greatly appreciated by them in return too! Lovi and Belle were always his favourites and he would find it cute the way they argued all the time. He had been sad when his year as an assistant had ended and would never have thought that he would be called back. Last summer, when he had received a demand to teach in this school again, Antonio couldn't believe his luck. The real Spanish teacher had left on maternity leave and wouldn't be able to teach this year and because of his amazing performance from last year and how easily he gets along with the kids, the headmaster, Mr Edelstein, had insisted on having Antonio as his Spanish teacher replacement. He even promised him a fully secured job at his school once his studies were over. Antonio had been so shocked but also so pleased. He loved being a teacher! He truly did … until he met that boy.

At the beginning of the year, a month and a half ago, Antonio's class had had a new pupil transfer over from London, the capital. The Spanish had been surprised at first. Why leave the capital and a highly praised high school to come to this one in Blackpool? When the boy entered his classroom for the first time, Antonio was startled by the bright emerald green eyes that shot through him. He had eyed the blond boy, curious. The boy had been perfectly polite and he didn't have a strong London accent which surprised Antonio. In fact, the boy spoke with a melodic tone, almost as if he were singing. Antonio could hear strange intonations as the boy spoke and he could discern a rough, northern accent melted to the courted London one. Antonio had wondered about this but didn't bother the boy with it. He had smiled at him with his usual cheerful smile, greeting him loudly and enthusiastically as he always does when he meets someone. He thought the boy would've gotten angry or embarrassed, as he had noticed all Englishmen did, but he had only seemed a little surprised and chuckled lightly, returning back the Spaniard's smile. Pleasantly surprised by the boy's response to him, Antonio had started to feel interested in knowing more about this unusual English boy. It had all started well, really. How could it have gone this wrong after a mere week?

A week had past and Antonio had felt that Arthur had easily integrated the class. He was happy for him. Antonio had seated Arthur next to Lovi, hopping that the unsocial Italian boy might get along with the uncommon English boy. And they did, to Antonio's surprise. At first, Lovi had seemed suspicious and would ignore Arthur but as time passed, they started talking, then they would hang out a few times and soon they became very close friends. Too close. After a week only, Arthur and Lovi had become best friends. This had made Antonio feel … slightly disturbed. Soon after, Belle had joined their group and the three of them would be inseparable. Antonio felt more and more annoyed as he watched them laugh together. Not only Lovi and Belle but everyone in the class liked him. He was particularly popular with the girls. His good grades, his gentlemanly manners, his dark humour and his serious and imposing attitude seemed to attract them. Apparently, nowadays, girls liked the 'dark and mysterious type' rather than the 'smiling and cheerful type'. Antonio felt his pride as a seducer crumble. Then, he would hear constant praises about Arthur in the teacher's lounge. Always him. Arthur this, Arthur that, Arthur everywhere. Antonio didn't mind … he really didn't … not one bit … well at least not as much as he did now! Antonio slowly felt anger fill his heart as he saw Arthur hang out with his Lovi and Belle. He had always been over protective of Lovino because he had felt the boy needed affection and love and he had always been fond of Belle and her natural cheerfulness and optimism. He had hoped to get Lovi to open up more to others … not to lose him. Nor did he expect Arthur to be so much appreciated by the teachers and other students. He was always annoyed to have to call off the girls in class who weren't paying attention to him because they were too busy staring and giggling about Arthur. He felt jealousy creep in his heart and each time he looked at the boy, he felt an urge to break his calm and composed attitude. Why? Why did he get so worked up over this boy? Maybe it was because of the way, the boy reacted to him. No matter what he did, Arthur always kept control of the situation. He never slipped. Antonio started to hate him. He hated how perfect Arthur was compared to himself. He hated it. And before he had realised it … he hated Arthur.

"I don't get it Tonio! I thought you liked the brat! Why did you change your opinion of him?"

Antonio jumped at the sound of Gilbert's voice. He pondered for a bit before shrugging, unable to answer.

"Man! This is so not awesome at all!"

"I wonder if … hmm …" Muttered Francis, a finger on his lower lip and a thoughtful expression on his face. Whatever he thought of made him smile one of his creepy, pervy smiles. "Tonio! Francis locked his eyes on his friend and smirked. 'ow often do you zink about ze Kirkland boy?"

Both Antonio and Gilbert looked at Francis with confused looks.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Franky? He talks about him all the time! Whenever I get to speak with Tonio, the only thing I hear about is Arthur Kirkland this and Arthur Kirkland that and he just doesn't shut up! But because I'm so awesome, the awesome me listens to all the childish complaints of that tomato idiot! He's always depressed and I always have to drag him out of the pub completely drunk and he still won't shut up about …"

Gilbert was interrupted by an uninterested hand wave of Francis telling him to shut up.

"I know all zat! 'e does ze same wiz me. I meant, what is on your mind right now? When you … hum … 'révasse'?" The other two shake their heads meaning they understood the French word. Francis always had a hard time speaking English. "In zose times what do you zink about? When you dream, who do you dream of?"

Antonio looked at Francis, confused, while Gilbert's eyes widened as he understood where Francis was going. He smirked and wrapped his arm around the confused Spaniard.

"So that's what you were wondering about, Franky! Kesesese! Hey, Tonio! Has the little English boy invaded all your thoughts yet?"
Antonio's eyes widen as he suddenly understands what his two friends mean. He frowned angrily. How could they joke around like that about something this serious? He obviously wasn't thinking of Arthur in that way! If he were, why would he hate him so much! It makes no sense!

"Mi amigo, I can assure you that it is not what you think! I hate the boy! I hate him so much how could I possibly be interested in him?"

"You never know mein Freund! After all, people say that 'hate can be love'! Right, Frenchie?"

Francis nodded with a teasing smile.

"Gilbo's right. You clearly zink about ze boy all ze time and you always talk about 'im. You 'ate 'im so much it's almost like an obsession …"

"Yeah, seriously, man! You're being kind of creepy!" Gilbert pointed out.

"… and you always cry pathetically 'is name when you're drunk." Francis enumerated while counting on his fingers his different points. He glanced at Antonio and smirked.

"¿Qué? Esto es un disparate! I do not cry his name! I do not! I … I don't … right?" Antonio stammered unsure. He couldn't be sure of what he had done when drunk but … how could he … did he really cry out Arthur's name? No! No way! He hated the boy!

"And now, you're blushing!" sneered Francis while counting yet another finger.

"Yo no soy!" Antonio shouted. But he did feel his face warming up and that made him madder.

"Kesesese! You so are! You're as red as those tomatoes you love! Shouldn't you be happy about that, Tomato lover? Kesesese!"

"¡Cállate! I am NOT in love with HIM!"

"Nein! Course you're not! Kesesesese! You only want to fuck him!"

Gilbert laughed loudly, holding his stomach from all his laughing. The German albino looked at Antonio's bright red face glaring at him angrily and back he was in an even more hysterical laugher! Francis was grinning with a devilishly looking smirk at how oblivious his Spanish friend was! 'Did you really have to be French to realise you're in love' he wondered? After all, if France is known as the country of love, Spain is known as the country of burning passion. 'I guess in this case, the passion is Tonio's irrational hate towards Arthur' the Frenchman thought to himself. He then decided that Gilbert had teased Antonio enough for the night and that they should be getting some sleep. He did have and early class the next morning.

"Gilbert! C'est bon! I zink Antonio 'as 'ad enough teasing! And I need to get some sleep for tomorrow."

"Hahaha haha ha ha … ha … ha … haaaa … that was fun!" Gilbert sighed as he calmed down his hysteria.

"No! It wasn't!" mumbled Antonio, his eyes firing daggers at both his friends.

"Allez Tonio! We were just teasing you! And anyway, you must admit zat we are right! You do 'ave feelings for zis Arthur!"

Antonio glared but didn't answer back.

"Kesesese! I always wondered why you'd only sleep with a girl once before dumping her! Now, I know why!"

"That's … that has nothing to do with …" Antonio stammered. But Gilbert grabbed him by the collar and brought his face close to the Spaniard's. He smirked and whispered in his friend's face, breathing alcohol on him.

"Oh, really? Then, why are you so much more affectionate with men than women? Why haven't you ever had a decent relationship with a woman? Why are you always uninterested in women? Why do you comment with freaky, pervy Francis about the asses of random men in the street?" Gilbert's smirk grew. Francis frowned at him being called 'freaky' and 'pervy'. "And why are you so desperately wishing to fuck the little Artie?"

Antonio's face turned deep crimson. 'Desperately wishing to fuck' HIM? No! He didn't think anything like that! He would never seek someone for such a primitive desire! He wasn't desperate to fuck Arthur! He was just … he was just …

"NO! Antonio screamed as if his life depended on it. No es así! I am not desperate to fuck Arthur! I am not interested in him only to FUCK him! I would never use him like that! I just feel attracted to him! Si! Me siento atraído! ¡Lo quiero! Eso es todo! I just want to know him better! I … I love his golden messy hair, his bright emerald eyes, his beautiful smooth white skin, his delicate facial features, his slender body, his gentle smile but also his pirate – like smirk! I love the singing sound of his voice and his rough accent mixed to his polite one from London! I love his gentlemanliness and his composed attitude! I love his calm and serious face when he's concentrating on his work! I love his humour filled with irony and his teasing laugh! I love his arrogance and stubbornness and his dark glare when he faces an enemy! I love his kindness and gentleness towards his friends! I love how strong he is! I love the way he talks, the way he moves, the way he smiles, the way he glares, the way he always, always keeps control of the situation he is in no matter what happens! I love everything about him! All of it! I DON'T WANT JUST TO FUCK HIM, I WANT TO LOVE HIM! I LOVE HIM! LO AMO!"

Antonio panted loudly, catching his breath after his crazy speech then the realisation of what he had just said sank into his head. He lifted a dangerously deep red edging towards violet face and saw his two best friends stupefied. Then, both of them smirked and Antonio covered his face in his palms. What did he say? Did he really say that? But why? He thought he hated Arthur? Could he have actually been in love with him this whole time? How? Then, Antonio remembered what Gilbert and said earlier: Hate can be love. Really? Did he really … love him?

"I … I love … him? Lo … amo …" Antonio whispered, almost as if to convince himself.