Loving a Stranger
Chapter eight: How to Bond with your Best Friend's Love Interest ~By: the Awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt
(A/N: As the title suggests, this chapter is in Gilbert's POV)
When Antonio had implored Francis and I to watch over Lovino, I had wanted to refuse. There was no way in hell we'd all survive God knew how long, not with that grumpy killjoy around. He was barely tolerable with Antonio there to receive all the hate! No, this would not be awesome at all. But before I could say no, our Spanish friend was invoking our pity; telling us things that Feliciano had revealed about their rough life in Italy, that Lovino was prone to falling back into depression. "What if something really bad happened to him while I was away?" He had said. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself."
Francis and I had glanced at each other with indecision: we knew that our friend was in love with that feisty Italian(though the reason why was beyond our comprehension), yet there was that overwhelming possibility that Lovino would...well I don't know... MURDER us or something.
Antonio had looked at us hopefully. "Unidad..?" He'd murmured softly. I had had to smile at that. "Loyalität," I added firmly. Francis echoed without hesitation, "Amour." Unity, loyalty, and love, the motto we had come up with back in kindergarten, our passion, our friendship. We were more than the average group of friends. We were supposed to be together through thick and thin, we were to have each each other's backs, to put their needs before our own, right? That belief had been the cheesy foundation of our friendship, and who could say no to it?
I had sighed. "Alright," I submitted. "We'll watch over him."
Antonio had brightened instantly. "¿Qué? Are you serious?"
"Oui, what are amis for?" Francis had questioned.
"Oh wow. You guys are the best!"
"Ja, I know we are awesome."
I knew I had agreed to it, but standing in the Vargas' living room with a fuming Italian standing in front of us, I couldn't help but wonder what the fuck had I been thinking. This was not going to work at all! I glanced at Francis, silently asking him what we should do.
He pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his blond head slightly. 'We can't leave,' he seemed to say. 'We made a promise.'
'But Toni asked us to do the impossible. Can't we just say, eh we tried, and go home?' My eyes did the talking for me- we were awesome like that.
The hard look those normally teasing blue eyes sent me told me how much he despised my idea. 'Non. We're going to go through with this. There is no way I'm backing down.' I sighed slightly. 'Alright. I'm with you.'
"Hey stronzi!" Shouted a very pissed Italian accent. "Stop staring at each other like creepy lovebirds and get the hell out of here, bastards!"
We turned and looked at Lovino, who was glaring daggers at us as he planted his hands on his hips, his dark eyebrows low and a scowl on his face. No, this wasn't going to be easy. A smirk slowly pulled the corner of my mouth. Since when did I do things the easy way?
"I'm sorry, mon ami," Francis told him. "But we aren't leaving."
Lovino's hazel...or amber...or whatever color eyes widened slightly. "And why the fuck not?" He asked, his anger nearly masking the small tremor in his voice. I caught it; however, and realized he was actually afraid of us. It was weird: we had known him for two years, and had hung out with him and Antonio often. Why was he so scared?
An awesome idea suddenly came to me, and I grinned. "I'll be right back!" I announced, racing out the door to my car. I had the trunk open in record time and pulled out two bags. "Lovino!" I shouted joyously as I kicked the door back open. "Do you wanna know what brings men together?"
The Italian shook his head no, but I decided to ignore that. Of course he wanted to know! "Beer!" I exclaimed so loudly he jumped a bit. "Beer is the awesome blood of friendship! There is nothing better than having a drink with the guys you're closest with!"
At this point, even Francis was staring at me oddly. "You had beer bottles in your car?" He questioned with the raise of a golden eyebrow.
I nodded as I set the bags down on the coffee table and pulled out a bottle, inspecting it expertly. "Ja! I just got them and I was going to save them for later, but I can't think of a more awesome time to use these babies!"
There was a long, annoyed sigh from the corner, and I glanced up at Lovino, smirking a bit. "What's up with you? Everyone likes beer, ja?"
The Italian huffed. "Never drank the stuff before, I like wine better," he grumbled indignantly. "Besides, if its anything you enjoy it probably tastes like shit."
I ignored the latter comment and gasped. "No way! Well, allow me the honor of introducing you! Beer is the most awesome thing you will ever drink!"
Francis left to grab some glasses from the kitchen while Lovino sat down on the couch, looking stiff and uncomfortable. "This is the only way to get you bastards out of my damn house, isn't it?" He muttered.
I flashed him a smirk as I opened the first bottle. "You bet!"
He ran a hand through his hair in a stressed manner. "Then I guess I don't have a fucking choice."
"Just to warn you," I said, changing the subject. "Beer is way more awesome and strong than your fruity wine, so it will be bitter tasting. And also, I'm going to guess you're a lightweight, so you'll feel the effects sooner than you'd expect. Don't worry, Francis used to be just like that, although his tolerance has grown over time."
Lovino merely glared. "Do you ever stop talking, bastard?" He questioned sourly.
"Never," Francis answered with a chuckle as he returned with three glasses. "You'll soon realize that."
"I'm planning on getting rid of you before I have to realize anything."
I rolled my eyes and poured the beautiful golden liquid into the glasses, purposely leaving one only half-full for the Italian. We did not need him vomiting all over the place like an unawesome-
"What the hell? I'm not a fucking child!" Said Italian huffed indignantly. "Fill up the damn glass!" That ignorant fool was going to regret when his stomach decided to revolt on him- but I'd leave that for him to deal with. I shrugged and filled that glass too.
We grabbed our drinks and took a nice long swig; I had grown used to the burning sensation traveling down my throat, but Francis still winced slightly, and Lovino almost spat his out. "Damn! This shit is nasty!" He exclaimed. "How the hell do you drink this?"
Francis gave him a sympathetic look, probably remembering when I had first introduced him to my favorite beverage. "Don't worry," he said as he placed a hand on Lovino's shoulder. "After a while, you won't even notice the taste."
That came rather quickly, for by the time he had finished his first glass, Lovino's slurred words had lost most of their venom, and his fiery eyes glazed, looking not unlike a tranquilized dog. I smirked as I continued to drink; my blood was practically made out of beer, and it would take a long time for me to actually get drunk. A couple more glasses were downed before Francis started giggling and hiccuping uncontrollably as he continuously tried to play with Lovino's curl, the Italian cursing at him softly and hitting him in the face with a pillow. I was starting to feel a little buzzed, but nothing serious yet.
"So Lovvvvvvvi," Francis purred, hugging the pillow to his chest. "You like Toni, right? You like his kisses don't you?"
Lovino tried and failed to glare, he was having a hard time focusing his gaze. "No," he said. "I don't like Tomato Bastard..."
I leaned closer as I gulped down some more beer. "Why the hell not?" I questioned. "What's wrong with him?"
"He's an idiot," came the slurred response as the Italian waved me away. "He's..."
That was when it happened. Lovino's eyes suddenly grew watery, and a single sob shook his body. Dammit, I should have figured he'd be a depressed drunk. Francis stared, looking incapable of doing anything, so I reached over and hugged the crying Italian, squeezing his shoulders. "Hey, you're awesome," I murmured. "You'll be fine."
"I just...he's lying!" Lovino blubbered, his tears wetting my shirt.
"Who..?" Francis questioned stupidly, rubbing random patterns into his back.
"T-Tonio!" Lovino pulled away and snatched up a pillow, sobbing into it as he shoulders shook. "He doesn't love me! He can't! No one loves me!"
Francis and I looked to each other, and I decided to stay quiet and let the drunk Italian speak his mind. Who knew what we would discover? I thanked my lucky stars that I was still fairly sober and able to process information as I listened to my best friend's love interest pour out his heart.
"Everyone tells me I'm like my mamma, and no one loved her either! My father cheated on her because she was unlovable! I had this girlfriend during freshman year, she said she loved me. Dammit, I believed her too! I fucking gave her everything- and just to find out that she had gone behind my back with some other bastard! Just like my parents. Antonio can't love me, he can't! I can't allow myself to think he loves me, because if I do, he'll end up forgetting me like everyone else!"
Damn, this was totally unawesome and depressing. Poor Lovino, it had to be rough. "There is one thing I know," Francis murmured as Lovino cried harder. "Toni is the right one for him. He'll treat Lovi better than anyone else could, and he'd never stop loving him despite all his quirks." My friend's words were still slurred, but there was a profound truth in what he said.
Don't worry Anton, I thought. He'll come around. I'll see to that.
Damn the sun! Why was it so fucking bright? I screwed my eyes shut and tried to drown out the light, to retreat back to the comforting confines of sleep. But the pounding headache eliminated any chance of peace I wanted. I groaned and sat up, too quickly, sending my head into a world of pain.
I cursed and blinked, taking in the littered bottles of beer on a coffee table that didn't belong to me, the brown couch that wasn't black like my own, the Italian sound asleep on the other side of said couch, clutching a pillow for dear life and his foot nearly in my face, and Francis passed out on the head of the couch, his pants and shirt tossed carelessly onto the floor as he wore only a pair of red boxers. What the hell had happened?
I racked my brain for answers, but I was in so much pain I couldn't think until I took some medication. I heaved myself off the couch and trudged into the kitchen, whispered curses slipping out of my mouth as I did so. Where the hell did they keep the Ibuprofen? I dug around for a few agonizing moments before discovering a small bottle above the refrigerator. I popped a few in my mouth and twisted open the cap of a water bottle, nearly drowning myself in its contents.
That was when I remembered I was supposed to eat with the damn medicine. I groaned and opened the fridge just as I heard soft footsteps coming from the other room. "Fuck this shit. Fuck. Those. Damn. Bastards."
I massaged my aching temples and managed a small smirk. "Good morning, Lovino."
"Fuck you and your good morning, bastard!" The Italian snapped, his eyes flashing. He let out a pained moan and held his head in his hands.
"Need this?" I asked, handing him the Ibuprofen.
He snatched it out of my hand and opened the bottle, grumbling as he grabbed himself some water. "Forget everything I fucking told you last night," he growled.
Everything he had- oh! Right! Memories of the previous night suddenly flew back to my head, the drinking, the failed bonding attempt, the fact that all three of us had ended up choking on our tears as we embraced each other in our drunkenness. "But we're-"
"Don't even say we're friends, we sure as hell are not. As soon as Francis wakes up I want the two of you to get out of my house and put an end to this."
I smiled. Sorry Lovino, I thought to myself. This is only the beginning.
Translations
Unidad(Spanish)- Unity
Loyalität(German)- Loyalty
Amour(French)- Love
¿Qué?(Spanish)- What?
Oui(French)- Yes
Amis(French)- Friends
Ja(German)- Yes
Non(French)- No
Stronzi(Italian)- Assholes
Mon ami(French)- My friend
A/N: Anton is basically the German form of Anthony- which is the name Antonio is derived from in case anyone was wondering.
Anywho! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I wanted to do something a little different, so I thought: Hey! How about we switch things up a little? That actually proved to be easier said than done, as I actually struggled a bit with this chapter. I think I've kinda fallen in love with Romano's POV or something…
So, I again wanted to thank everyone from the bottom of my pretty nonexistent heart for all the support you've given me! I'm at...let's check… 22 reviews, 21 followers, 14 favorites, and…. I don't know how many views, fanfiction is glitching out on me for some reason…. But it's a lot though! And I seriously feel like I don't even deserve it! Thank you guys so very much!
I love you all!
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