Chapter seventeen – Let's talk it out

Meanwhile, Francis had dragged Gilbert over to a deserted area of the school, just behind the canteen. Francis stared at the ground guiltily, not radiating his usual wave of arrogance.

"You wanted to talk?" Gilbert grinned, "You're wasting awesome time of mine, Francis," he stuck his tongue out playfully.

"Mon cher, I didn't so much want to talk – I just… wanted to apologise," Francis swallowed his pride and met Gilbert's eyes confidently.

Gilbert stared at Francis, confused, "Thanks, man… But… what for?"

"You mean you're not annoyed at me…?" Francis narrowed his eyes in confusion, "I'm talking about the whole thing with Matthew… You do know it was me who he cheated on you with?"

Gilbert shrugged, "Yeah… Actually it never even occurred to me that I should be annoyed with you."

Francis still couldn't accept it, "But… I should've refused him! I shouldn't have flirted with him! I need you to shout at me and tell me I was wrong! Gilbert, what's wrong with you?"

"Woah, Francis, calm down! I've never seen you like this before…" Gilbert laughed a little, but stopped himself at Francis' harsh gaze, "It's almost like you're annoyed at me."

Francis shook his head, "Non, non, mon cher. But in all seriousness, what I did to you was wrong. I knowingly cheated on my boyfriend with my best friend's. That's twisted on a lot of levels. And I know you know me; I don't apologise like this unless I know I was wrong."

Gilbert weighed his head side to side, "I don't really blame you… Mattie was the one that came on to you, right? And we all know you – can't resist a shag. Plus, I said it a second ago – I didn't even think to blame you, which kind of proves I'm really not bothered by it."

Francis sighed, "Well, if you're not going to shout at me, then there's really nothing I can do. I kept on putting this off because I didn't have the heart to apologise to you."

"Well, you did in the end, which is pretty awesome," Gilbert grinned roughly.

Francis smiled, satisfied, "Matthew changed you, mon ami, before you dated him you'd have probably lashed out at something like this. He softened you up, but in a good way. I remember the days when you smoked."

Gilbert fake-shuddered, "Bad times, bad times. Those days were dark. Still pisses me off thinking about them. Pisses me off that Al's facing a pretty shit time, too."

"Alastair?" Francis scowled, making a noise of disgust, "He's not worth your worry."

"Francis, he's one of my best friends. Besides, you're dating Owain! Owain cares a hell of a lot about Alastair – if he were to get hurt, then Owain would be upset, too. Maybe even more upset than Alastair would be, knowing him!" Gilbert said civilly, smiling encouragingly at Francis.

Francis shifted with discomfort, "I see your point, but he's still a bastard."

Cracking a grin, Gilbert said, "That's Alastair. Bastard all over. It's why we love him. You know underneath he cares an awful lot more than he gives away. He's secretly glad you and Owain are dating."

Francis scoffed, "Whatever."

"It's true!"

"Did Owain not tell you?" Gilbert frowned, "Alastair was the one who encouraged Owain to ask you out."

Narrowing his eyes, Francis sighed moodily, "He didn't ask me out. He asked me to ask him out."

"Whatever happened, Alastair encouraged it! He gave up his utter hatred of you, gave up the cute, weird little 'relationship' he had going on with Owain, and told his brother to go and get with you. D'ya know why?"

"Why?" Francis mumbled childishly, knowing the answer.

"Because he cares, Francis. He cares an awful lot more than he pretends to. You know, he is lonely at the minute, but not the way I feel lonely, because at least for a while, I had someone. Alastair has never had anyone, and he's convinced himself it'll always be like that, apart from the odd fuck with Elizabeth – but even that's stopped now, because she's dating that Francesca girl! He's lonely, and he doesn't realise it himself, but he cares about Owain and his brothers, he cares about me, and hell, he even cares about you."

"Well how am I meant to know that if he's a constant bastard towards me?" Francis threw his arms up in frustration.

"I told you before, Alastair just is a bastard – he's like that! But you just need to take what he says as a joke. He's arrogant and selfish, but seriously, if you can get past that and learn to ignore it, you realise that actually he's extremely selfless and under confident, and genuinely a nice guy!"

Francis could tell he was loosing what had now turned into a little argument, "Maybe he needs to show that side more to actually be accepted as a nice guy! People judge me as an utter dick and I don't see you running to my side to stick up for me!"

"Yes, but Alastair has been through a hell of a lot more than you! His dad pretty much neglected him as a kid, his almost step-dad was an utter dick, he was on weird ground with Owain, he used to self harm when he was younger, and, Jesus, he smokes like there's no tomorrow – and that isn't even the half of it!"

Francis shook his head, "We all have hardships."

"And Alastair's are worse than most people's!"

Pausing for a second, Francis ducked his head, and then met Gilbert's eyes, "What I don't understand is why you get angry with me about this, rather than me cheating with Matthew."

Gilbert frowned, "Because that concerns me – I don't give a shit about stuff like that; it's when you talk about Alastair like he's nothing!"

"Fine, I accept that I am wrong, and that I have upset you, mon cher," Francis sighed, "I apologise. I will think twice before insulting Alastair."

Gilbert nodded, "Thank you. Francis, you're a good guy. Don't make people view you as anything else."

"Thank you, mon cher," Francis smiled dryly, and opened up his arms for a hug off Gilbert, "Friends again?"

"We weren't not friends, idiot," Gilbert grinned, hugging Francis roughly and boyishly, slapping him on the back, "Lets go and get some food, I'm starving."

"Agreed."

Ludwig was doing his homework. Again. But this homework wasn't compulsory homework, no, this homework was completely voluntary. In fact, he'd practically persuaded the teacher to give it to him. Just something to keep his mind busy, really. Actually, all week he'd done nothing but work. He knew exactly why – to keep his mind from straying to Feliciano.

Naturally his permanent position of being hunched over his desk in low lighting was worrying quite a few people. Even though Feliciano had only just broken up with him, they still shared a room, and he was constantly asking Ludwig if he was okay, and encouraging him to take a break. Gilbert had been over a few times, although he knew nothing of the break up, he'd noticed his brother's behaviour was a little out of the ordinary. It warmed Ludwig's heart a little to know that people still cared about him.

But, as Feliciano was out, and Gilbert was doing God-knows-what, Ludwig found himself, once again, in his cramped position on his desk, trying to polish up on his weakest subject, English. Although it was his weakest, he was still obtaining very high A grades, now and then a low A*. It was safe to say that Ludwig was extremely intelligent.

For better or for worse, Ludwig found his essay had been interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. He planned on leaving it; if it was Gilbert, he didn't want to talk, and Feliciano had a key. He couldn't see a reason for anyone else knocking at his dorm, unless they wanted the company of his roommate.

Sadly, the knocking continued, and continued, until Ludwig slammed his hands down on the keyboard, creating an un-readable mash of letters to appear on the Word document in front of him. Sighing, he got to his feet, yanking the door open.

To find Lovino standing at his doorstep.

"Feliciano's out," Ludwig said flatly, making to shut the door, but was stopped by Lovino shoving his foot in between the gap.

"You think I don't know that? He's round at my dorm. I came here for you." Lovino spat.

"What?" Ludwig narrowed his eyes.

"You heard right, I know, I can't believe it either. Just let me in, offer me a drink, and then after I've spoken to you, I can go."

Dumbfounded at the practically impossible situation he'd managed to wind up in, Ludwig just blinked, opening the door and signalling for Lovino to come in.

Maybe Gilbert was right. Maybe he was working to hard – he'd started hallucinating.

"You gunna offer me a drink, potato?" Lovino called over. At least he'd dropped the 'bastard' part, like he'd promised two years ago, "I'll have coke, thanks."

"Fine, fine, whatever," Ludwig shook his head, still a little dazed. He quickly filled up two glasses, and sat opposite Lovino.

"What do you want, then?" he asked, wanting his time with the Italian to be over as quick as possible. Not only was he unbearable company because of his generally appalling attitude, he also looked painfully like his younger brother.

"I want to talk, that's all. Did you know that Feli's crying his eyes out on Antonio's lap right now?" Lovino narrowed his eyes.

Ludwig managed to keep his flinch internal, "I can't help that, if I remember correctly, he was the one that broke up with me."

"And why do you think he did that? I hate to admit that you know my brother as well as I do, and that we both know that there was a very good reason behind him breaking up with you. He didn't do it out of boredom, spite, or just on a whim. This was one of the very rare things he actually thought about before doing. And now, even though he knows it was the right thing to do, he's crying his eyes out on my bed. Why do you think that is, hm?" Lovino sounded too calm to be in control – he sounded like someone about to loose it, big time.

Still, Ludwig edged ever closer to crossing Lovino's very clear, bright red, angry line. "I don't know. I've never been too good at relationships. I pride myself in my knowledge, not my social skills."

"That is exactly my point! For someone so fucking clever, you're so fucking stupid! Please, no funny business now, but do you seriously know why Feli broke up with you?" Lovino demanded.

"Actually I don't, if I'm honest," Ludwig said.

"Now, do you really believe that, or are you just saying it?"

Ludwig didn't answer.

Then Lovino changed. It was a very different change, and, although Ludwig knew an awful lot of adjectives, he couldn't quite pick one to describe the change in Lovino. It was almost like he sounded encouraging, but cynical at the same time. Apathetic, but worried. It truly was a mystery.

"We both know you know, Ludwig," Lovino called him by his first name? "Kiku tried to tell you, Feliciano tried to tell you, Gilbert tried to tell you… But you just didn't listen. You're good at listening; you need to listen to the people that actually care about you, rather than absorbing in meaningless facts. Ludwig, please, I'll ask again. Why did Feliciano break up with you?"

There was a pause.

"Because I was taking him for granted," Ludwig admitted with great difficulty, his voice a little strained, "I just accepted that he'd love me even if I practically ignored him. I put my work before him."

Lovino nodded, "Yes. Though Feliciano still loves you. Trust me, he never stops reminding Toni and me."

"Will I ever be able to get him back…?" Ludwig said, "Can I ever get him back?"

"Well, I think you're a bastard for neglecting him, but hell, at least you didn't do it out of spite or anything. The problem here isn't people not letting you date him, or Feliciano rejecting you. The problem is you – you need to get yourself in the right frame of mind to date him, and understand that if you do what you did to my brother before, then the relationship will end in the same way. You need to find a way to balance your education, work or whatever and Feliciano. Don't waste your youth, Ludwig, I don't care that I sound like a granddad – but you'll never get this time back. Don't look back at it in the future and regret it."

Ludwig, still a little shocked at Lovino's changed attitude, nodded, "You're right."

There was a silence.

"Thank you, Lovino. I've never really liked you, and I know you've felt the same, but I've always admired you capability to act exactly how you are and not let other's judgements influence you. And the Lovino I'm seeing today is a lot different to the usual you, but I know that you're telling the truth. This is you talking. And you know what? I like you."

"Not too bad yourself," Lovino shrugged, "You caught me in a good mood. Your water's filtered. It calmed me down."

Ludwig smiled, "Thanks, Lovino. When you next see Feliciano… Tell him that it's not over between us. I will change for him."

Lovino frowned, "Tell him yourself!"

"But…" Ludwig tried to come up with a good excuse as to why he couldn't see Feliciano. The only one he could come up with was that he was far to scared to do so, but he'd never admit that to Lovino. As far as Lovino believed, Ludwig wasn't even capable of feeling fear. Ludwig didn't really want to break the Italian's delusions.

"'But' is not a reasonable excuse! You can go get your lazy ass down to my room and talk to my brother. Right now."

Lovino could turn from almost nice to his usual self in less than a few minutes, Ludwig noted with a sigh.

"Fine, fine," Ludwig couldn't think of much else to say. He attempted to prepare what he was going to say to Feliciano, but his mind was as blank as Feliciano's homework sheets, so he knew he was going to have to improvise once face to face with the Italian.

Standing up and stretching his limbs, Ludwig sighed, "Right. Let's do this."

Arthur opened the door to his temporary dorm he was sharing with Francis and Owain, only to be greeted with…

… Material?

Pink, purple, ice blue – every colour of material you could want scattered the floor. Some silky looking, some velvety and inviting to touch – others downright disturbing, like slutty-looking netted stuff… and was that Lycra?

One thing was for sure, Arthur was very, very confused why his dorm had been turned into a sewing shop.

"I'm back?" Arthur called uncertainly.

There was a little shriek and mumblings from the door leading into the main room. Arthur raised an eyebrow, utterly baffled, but when he tried to open the door, he found it was jammed. Frowning and looking down to see what was blocking his way in, he saw a shiny new pair of bright red converse.

The same pair Owain had been fanboying (though it was more like fangirling) about only the other day.

"Owain, what the hell? Let me in! And what's with decorating your apartment into a seamstress' shop? Where did you even get Lycra!?"

"Go away!" his brother seemed to squeak nervously, "Francis and I are… busy!"

"Doing what?" Arthur frowned, and then got the euphemism, "Oh. It better not be on my bed!"

"No, no, nope! Just… Don't mind us! And don't come back for a long time. Maybe even stay the night with someone else!"

"Someone else? Who?" Arthur demanded, but then cut across himself, "Hang on… if you're doing 'stuff' with Francis, why do you need all this material? And why are you wearing converse?"

Silence for a second, and then, "Jesus Arthur – stop being so nosy about my love-life!"

"But-! God, I give up," Arthur said, exasperated, though he was only partly serious, "Well… I'll go and talk to Kiku, then?"

"Whatever you want, just don't come back here in a hurry!" said Owain's voice through the door.

"Love you too," Arthur mumbled, rolling his eyes, "Well… see you tomorrow."

Not waiting for a reply, Arthur made his way out of the dormitory, and headed down the corridor to Kiku's room. What had been up with Owain? There was obviously something he wasn't telling Arthur, but that wasn't the only odd thing about his behaviour. It wasn't really the nature of Owain and Francis' relationship to plan ahead. They'd never made an effort to warn Arthur of sexual activities, something the blonde had discovered on his own after walking in on them on several occasions. Why so protective now?

His thoughts were cut short by a figure standing outside Kiku's door who didn't really look like he should be there. He was very different to the type of guy you'd imagine waiting for the sweet Japanese boy. Arthur would imagine someone that stood outside Kiku's door would be quiet, much like Kiku himself, short, cute, a bit geeky. The person leaning against the wall and chewing on the end of a lit cigarette was someone who definitely didn't look suitable for Kiku.

Then it clicked.

This must be Kiku's very shady boyfriend.

Well, thought Arthur, you've been wanting to hear about this guy for a while. Maybe some detective work would be suitable here.

"Hello," Arthur greeted, trying to sound cheerful, but not patronisingly so.

The guy looked up from the ground, "Hey," he mumbled, giving Arthur a mouthful of smoke, "And you are?"

"Arthur Kirkland, Kiku's friend. Is it safe to assume you're…"

"Lars, yes. I'm sure you've heard all about me. People enjoy bitching behind my back."

He's awfully bitter, Arthur said to himself.

"Well… if you're Kiku's boyfriend, then why're you waiting out here?" Arthur said.

"Because I'm wondering if I still want to be his boyfriend…" Lars said, finally looking up to meet Arthur's eyes.

Arthur had a feeling he knew what this was about, but issued for Lars to continue.

Sinking to the floor, and inviting Arthur to do the same, Lars took a long drag of his cigarette, and then elaborated, "He hurt me pretty bad. I know he still has a thing for that English teacher… It's painfully obvious. I don't really care that Kiku's struggling to get over a broken heart – hell, so am I. But I just wish he'd tell me rather than going on secrete dates with him."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that…" Arthur hung his head, feeling torn between sticking up for Kiku and consoling this obviously heartbroken Lars, "There is one piece of advice I can give you."

"Hm?"

"If you do break up with him, make sure you're serious. People see break ups as normality, that if you change your mind then you can just apologise and go back to how things were. I've had the unfortunate experience of a pretty upsetting break up quite recently, and I know very well that they're not a little thing that can be forgotten about. So promise me this, if you do break up with Kiku… try and make it painless, and… make sure you're one hundred percent certain on your decision, and that unless a miracle happens, you won't date again. That this is the end."

Lars nodded, "No offence, Arthur or whatever your name was, I'd have done that anyway," he cracked a smile, "But thank you for your concern. It's obvious you care a lot about Kiku's feelings."

Arthur nodded, "He's one of my best friends," that was weird, Arthur thought to himself. He'd never really considered Kiku to be a best friend, but now he'd said it, it did make a lot of sense.

Standing up, Lars clapped his hands, "But y'know, you have got me thinking. In proportion to the whole world, does it really matter that much? I could just… forget about it, surely?" Lars shook his head, "I don't know. But I do know I need to think about this before running into it. Thanks, mate."

"No problem," Arthur nodded, also clambering to his feet.

"Why did you say you were here?"

"I was going to ask Kiku to sleepover, because my roommate's busy with his boyfriend," Arthur frowned, but quickly replaced it with a good-natured smile, "But I can tell Kiku will be equally busy, even if it's not in a sexual way. I'll go and ask Gilbert to spare me a few pillows. Good luck, Lars."

Lars nodded, "Thanks, Arthur."

"No problem at all."

A/N

Aha. Ahahaha. Oops. Again.
I swear I don't mean to do this.
Updates went from once a day to once every three weeks or something stupid. Congratulations me and my regression.
But yes! Hello! Please love me.
More apologies; I'm sorry the chapters are UNEVENTFUL. Grr. Filler chapters that are needed. UGH. I wish I had the ability to make them more interesting. But yes, there will be a turning point soon, and hopefully that'll compel me to write more. Hahalolprobablynotthough.
Thank you for support, guys! I love you so much~
LOVE YOUS.