Chapter 2
"Ve~ Are you okay, Lovino?"
"Wonderful, you bastard"
Lovino answered sarcastically as he walked inside their house. He walked inside to soon be embraced by their loving grandfather. Feliciano smiled happily as Lovino tried not to fall down flat on his face.
"So, how was school? I'm making pasta for dinner by the way."
"Not hungry."
Feliciano looked worried at Lovino as he walked up to his room. He could here his grandfather question him, but he ignored it. He closed the door and locked it behind him. He couldn't see anyone right now; he didn't want to neither did he think he was going to be able to with drooling over the mental image of the stupid Spaniard in his head. Angry once more for thinking about him, he hit his head against one of the walls. Hard. He tried to get those emerald green eyes of his head, practically tried to force them out, but couldn't. He comforted himself by thinking that no one was going to know what was going on the head of his, but something about this was wrong, what he was feeling, it wasn't right. He didn't want to have anything to do with that teacher, but a part of him did. The hard thing to do here was how to suck the fucken life out of the part.
"Lovino, are you okay?"
His grandfather knocked on his door, right now this was something he didn't want to handle. He didn't want to explain anything; he just wanted to drown in his own silence and misery. Maybe then his thought would stop flowing about someone he wanted to hate.
"I need to be alone, so can you fucken leave…please."
"…Fine, but remember to eat or your parents are going to think I'm starving you."
He could almost hear his grandfather gasp once Lovino asked him and used the word 'please'. He NEVER used that word, not in his memory. But this time, Lovino couldn't talk to anyone. He felt…horrible to say the least. How was he going to get over something that felt so strong, something that felt worth feeling? But most important, how much was he capable of doing for a person he barely knew? Or worst, a teacher he could get his feelings untangled of?
"What the hell do you mean he's back?"
"And Emma told me to be discreet…"
"I thought he was left in Spain, where that idiot should be!"
"Can you please be quiet, we're in a hallway and Jackson has spies if I may remind you."
Antonio let the blond in his house and shut the door with his hand never leaving his heart. He felt faint, as if his worst nightmare ambushed him from behind. The man from Netherlands took a seat in the Spaniard's couch and crossed his legs. Antonio stood there with his forehead pressed against the door. It was likely that if Jackson was here for a time, he was watching him. That was what scared him the most.
"How long has he been here?"
He turned and saw that the man twisted a coin through his fingers careful enough not to drop it.
"About a week, in theory."
"How do you know this?"
Daan stopped twisting the coin in his hands. Silence broke into the space of the room. He blinked slowly at the Spaniard with an unreadable expression in his face. The more Daan took in asking the question, the more it scared Toni.
"He broke into my house and took Emma."
"What?"
"He said that if you don't agree going with him again he's going to…."
He didn't bother finish the sentence, but Antonio wouldn't have let him anyway. The image of Emma's blond hair being tortured just like she used to be filled him with anger. Yes, he would meet that son of a bitch and beat up his ass, but he also knew that wasn't smart. Last time he fought with him he nearly died. The only reason he won was the thing he refused to take once more. He clenched his hands so hard he could feel blood swimming down his wrist. Daan touched the Spaniard's shoulder trying to calm him down before he did something he might regret. Antonio grabbed a near vase and threw it across the room making it crash against a wall. He fell to his knees swearing under his breath.
"We need a plan. It's no use destroying stuff. Well, I have to go somewhere now. Any place we can meet tomorrow."
Antonio stood cleaning his hands on his pants. He counted to ten to help him calm himself.
"You know Cambridge School?"
"Yes."
"Spanish classroom, two-thirty."
"Good enough."
"Where are you going?"
He was at the door when he froze. He waited a second or two and responded.
"I'm going to go buy a gun."
A/N
Yes, yes, this one's shorter, and boring, and lame, and
Lovino: Your boring, your lame, your lazy, we fucken get it
Me: *tear*
I promise nest one will be more exciting and Lovino shall suffer-
Lovino: what?
You heard me you little dick. And Antonio will throw himself and nearly die!
Antonio: Hold on, what?
Daan: Stop spoiling!
Fine…..
Anyway,
Daan: Netherlands
Emma: Belgium
Antonio: Spain
Lovino: Romano
Hold on a second, did I even use Emma?
Daan: no…
Oh
Continued
Feliciano: Italy
Grandfather: Roma (I think everyone knows that..)
Adios!
P.S. very very sorry this is short