Arthur had read the same sentence over and over for at least a half hour now. It wasn't often he couldn't find himself able to settle his thoughts by reading a good book, it was so rare that he didn't remember the last time he had felt such unrest. 'It's that irritating boy,' he growled in his head when, for what seemed the millionth time, those fiery hazel eyes flashed across his mind's eyes.

His night's dreams were plagued with that young man's presence in them, when he finally got to sleep that is. He couldn't help but feel strangely drawn to him, and not many people, if any, made him feel so...out of control. It irritated him to no end.

'It's only the mystery and challenge the boy presents that attracts you, Arthur. You're just bored and this is just like with Francis and nothing more,' he tried to convince himself. Francis has been the only one to leave him breathless from yelling (And other things that Arthur will never admit to doing) and seething with anger, but this was different. That frog could push his buttons until he could no longer control his anger, but this stranger had done absolutely nothing expect curse at him, yet he felt like he had to do something for him and help him in some way. 'Like give him my bloody favorite horse! He better bring her back unharmed,' he growled internally.

"Or what? Are you going to have me killed, bastard?" A familiar voice floated through his open window.

He looked up, his eyes wide with shock, causing a smirk to form on the young man's lips. "Bloody hell!" The book fell from his lap as he glared at the man, much to the other's amusement, not that it showed, but he could feel the other gloating for startling him. "Could you not have knocked, git?"

"I could have."

"Why didn't you?" He let out an exasperated sigh.

The boy only gave him an indifferent stare, bordering on boredom. "You talk to yourself. A lot."

Blood drained from his face as he stared in horror. "How long have you been standing there?"

"A while." He picked at his nails, seemingly oblivious to his distress. "Most of it was too quiet for me to hear, expect for that last bit. But all in all, you sound like a crazy motherfucker."

He glared at him, but still felt relieved to know that was all he heard. "I do not sound crazy."

"Did you even realize you were talking, bastard?"

"Well...no."

"And so, I prove my point." The smirk on his lips curled up even more.

"Shut the hell up and get in here, you insufferable stranger," he growled, only to cry out in protest when the young man hauled himself up and through the window. "I have a door!"

"I know. It's easier to just climb in," the young man said when he was safely inside.

Arthur just stared at him incredulously, you'd think he had done something astonishing. "Since when has climbing through a window ever been easier than opening a bloody door?"

"The door is way the hell over there and the window is right here, that's fucking when," the young man growled, shifting his eyes nervously around his bedroom.

Now that Arthur could look at him closer, he could see the exhaustion in the lines of his face, sharpening all the angles of his face. In fact, the man's entire body showed how frayed his stamina was, and the way he leaned against the wall only supported his growing theory: The strange boy was dead tired and probably hungry too.

"Are you oaky?" He asked slowly, even though it was obvious to him that he wasn't.

"I'm fine," Lovino snapped sharply, glaring suspiciously at the blonde.

"Are you hungry? When was the last time you ate?"

He opened his mouth to tell him off, but just as he began to talk, his stomach rumbled loudly, as if to answer for him. "It doesn't matter," he said quietly, not able or willing to deny the answer his stomach had given, because in truth, he hadn't eaten a full meal in days and the last thing he consumed was a single apple.

Arthur slowly stood, hyper-aware of those hazel eyes watching his every move. "I am going to have lunch, please join me."

Lovino didn't say anything, but followed him without a word when Arthur led him through his house and to the kitchen. He had learned long ago to never, ever refuse a free meal, or any food at all for that matter.

He must really be hungry. For some reason, the thought of this young man starving disturbed him. He didn't think much of the poor or less fortunate, they weren't any of his business, but this boy, only one year younger than him, was on the streets alone (he assumed) and obviously; things weren't going too well for him. "You didn't answer my last question."

"What was it?"

"When was the last time you ate?" Arthur repeated patiently.

"I...I don't remember. Depends on what you call eating, I guess," he said nonchalantly, knowing that if he told the truth, it'd probably gain some pity from Arthur and get him more food. He may hate being pitied, but it came in handy when he wanted something. "I think I ate an apple yesterday."

"That's all?" Arthur frowned. No wonder the boy looks so emaciated. He probably doesn't eat but once a day, and maybe not everyday either. He immediately set to work on laying out food on the small breakfast table that he used for every meal, unless he was holding a party, only then did he use the large dinning room.

"Please sit down. You look tired," he said, and gestured towards the two chairs.

"Whatever. You don't have to act so fucking polite, it's disgusting and makes you look like you have a stick up your ass."

Arthur let a scowl turn down the corners of his mouth, and he growled, "Put your arse in a chair and shut up."

"That's more like it, bastard," he said victoriously, finally sitting down in the chair closest to the door. It didn't take long for him to devour everything that was set on the plate before him.

"Was it good?" He asked hopefully. Francis always says his cooking was terrible.

"It tasted like shit. Every single damn thing you gave me was fucking burnt and bland as dirt. I'm not sure that could even be considered food, half of it didn't even look edible. That shit isn't fit to feed dogs," he said with no mercy on Arthur's feelings.

"If you didn't like it, why the hell did you eat it?" Arthur burst out before Lovino could continue to crush his hopes.

"Because I am hungry," Lovino stared intensely at him, not allowing any emotion on to his face. "You may not understand hunger, but I do and I can't afford to turn down any food given. I am lower than a dog in that aspect."

Arthur suddenly felt guilty, and wanted to look away from those blank eyes, but he forced himself to meet the young man's gaze. Not only had he been rude, but also selfish to the first person he had actually held a conversation with in weeks. "I'm sorry."

The man's face twisted into the beginnings of a rueful smile. "As far as I know, sorry has never done anything, so don't bother saying it."

He wanted to say something - anything to break the thick silence that had fallen over them. He fidgeted, unable to find his voice. Oh, great on, Arthur. you were a complete arse to him and now he won't talk to you. God, I hate silence.

Surprisingly, Lovino was the first on to speak. "You're English, what the hell are you doing in Italy?"

The question caught him completely off guard. "Well, er... Although, I love England very much, I needed a change."

"So you're running from someone. Lovers, no. Friends, no. Authorities, no. Family - You're avoiding family, aren't you," he stated, his eyes never leaving Arthur's face.

He gaped at him, quickly hiding his shock. "How did you know?"

"A trick I learned," the young man said in a bored tone. "It comes in handy from time to time."

In his head, he rationalized that the boy had watched his reactions and had made guesses to find out what he meant. But even still, he had never considered himself an easy man to read. "Do you do that to everyone you meet?"

"Yes."

A frown pulled down the corners of his mouth. "Everyone must love when you do that," he said sarcastically.

"Considering, I never talk to anyone without the intent to either steal from them or cheat them, then I suppose yes."

The frown deepened. "Which one am I?" Something in him seemed to hold its breath for the answer.

Lovino stared at the blonde man across from him, honestly surprised he asked, and even more surprised that he didn't know the answer. "None of your business, bastard. I don't plan on seeing you again after this, anyway."

"Why not?" Arthur said, seeming disappointed by this.

He gave him a confused look, and said, "Because I'm a fucking thief and I don't have time to entertain a bored rich man with nothing fucking better to do than talk to me. And do I have to mention again, I am a fucking thief."

"Well, I'm not always bored, I do have I job," Arthur grumbled, feeling stupid.

So the rich fuck has a job, even though everything around me says he doesn't really need one. He had made up his mind; he hated Arthur. "Oh? And what the hell is that?"

"I'm a doctor."

Lovino's jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide as he stared unblinkingly at Arthur. Holy fucking shit... If I could get this guy to like me, maybe he would treat Feliciano for free. I hate him, but... You got to be fucking kidding me. The things I do for that idiot.

"What? Why is that so shocking?" Arthur frowned at him.

"Nothing... It's just," he trailed off, letting his eyes drop to his lap and slipping into his pathetic poor boy act.

"Just what?" Arthur watched his sudden change in behavior closely.

"I don't understand," he said softly, his voice thick with faked emotion. "I tried to steal from you, yet you don't seem to mind."

"Oh, well... It doesn't really matter to me," Arthur said awkwardly, not catching on.

"Why are you being so kind?" His voice rose and tears came to his eyes as he stared pleadingly at Arthur. "I don't deserve this kindness!"

Arthur deadpanned. "Whatever act you're trying to pull, stop it. It's not working and it doesn't suit you."

Lovino blinked at him. "What?"

"This sickening act of humility. I can tell you don't mean an ounce of what you're saying, and I would appreciate some honesty from you," he said.

He was a bit shocked, not many people saw through his act so quickly. So he's not helping me just because he's a good person. Then why? Actually, I really don't care. "Fine. You're going to help someone."

"What? Who?" Arthur was thoroughly confused by the sudden demands and behavior change.

"I have a brother and he's been sick for a while now. You're going to make him better," he said firmly. "I don't have much money, but I'll work for you to pay off the debt his treatment will cost. I will be a live-in worker, since it seems you have plenty of rooms and no servants."

Arthur stared at him, slowly processing the load of information. "What?"

He talked very slowly, as if he was explaining something to a child, "You are going to cure my brother. In return, I will work for you until the debt is payed."

The blonde man, bewildered by that not only had Lovino said he'd be coming to work for him, but apparently he had a new patient being thrust into his care. And, strangely, he felt almost excited by the thought. "Alright. What kind of jobs can you do?"

Lovino blinked at him, clearly not expecting him to comply so easily. " I can cook, garden, and fix small things, but do not ask me to clean."

"Why not?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Just don't." He glared threateningly at the blonde man, daring him to ask again.

He sighed. "Fine, but I need to know your name."

The man cursed violently under his breath before finally saying, "My name is Lovino."

Arthur had expected a more common name, but he liked this one. It was unique. "Lovino," he said, savoring the taste of it on his tongue.

"What?" He growled.

"Nothing. Just saying your name."

"Weirdo. Don't say it too much, or at all if possible." Lovino looked away, his eyes expressing too much of the pain that name caused him.

Arthur was about to ask why, but the pained look on Lovino's face stopped him; he'd leave it alone for now. "So, your brother is ill. Do you know what with?"

"I don't know... It doesn't matter, you can figure it out when I bring him." Lovino stood, not bothering to push the chair in.

He nodded, also rising from his seat. "Very well. While you get him, I'll prepare a room."

The dark-haired man nodded. "I'll be taking you horse again."

"Her name is Mint."

"Whatever." A one fingered wave dismissed him as Lovino left through the kitchen door.

Well, that was rude of him. Arthur shook his head when the door slammed shut. He chose the bedroom closest to his own to set up the room for Lovino's brother. Figuring Lovino would like to be close to his brother, he chose the room next to that for him. Both rooms were small and cozy, with nice curtains and bright white walls, and in their closets a door connected both rooms.

Once he put fresh sheets on the beds, dusted the cobwebs from the corners of the rooms, and wiped down every inch of the rooms until they were clean of any dirt (He even went so far as to put flowers from his garden in the empty vases by the windows), he seated himself with a wonderful cup of tea and the book he had tried to read from before.

...oOo...

Feliciano stared at him, his amber eyes wide and shocked. "We're... What?"

He continued to shove their meager belongings into two bags. One for the food he refused to leave behind and another for their few spare clothes and the pretty rocks and other objects that caught Feliciano's eye. "We are moving. Hopefully, we'll never return here, but I won't be surprised if I have to at some point. Is there anything I'm missing? I really don't want to come back here until I have to, and I expect I will end up here again."

In his confusion, he didn't notice how Lovino never mentioned him ever coming back here. Just the thought of moving blew his mind, they had lived there five years. Yes, it was very cold in the winters and he was sure that Lovino hated it here, but how could he leave so easily after five years. "But... Why?"

"I found somewhere better for you to live and it'll be warmer and you'll safer there."

This time, it didn't escape his notice when Lovino didn't use the term 'us' or 'we'. "Where is this place?"

"You'll see." Lovino shoved his feet into old shoes that he hadn't worn in forever.

"Is it a nice place?" He asked innocently.

"You could call it that."

He pouted, letting his brother pick him up and take him outside to the waiting horse. "Where is this place we're going? Who is the nice person willing to take us in? Tell me something! Please!"

His older brother looked down at him angrily (Or at least to Feliciano he looked angry), causing him to flinch under the intense glare. "It's a big house. The man letting us stay there is a doctor named..." Lovino hesitated, as if he was having trouble remembering the doctor's name - which he probably was - until he finally said, "Arthur. His name is Arthur Kirkland."

Feliciano stared up at his brother, noticing the light flush that dusted his tanned cheeks. If he knew more, and if his head didn't hurt so much, he might tease his brother for having taken a liking to this man named Arthur; but he didn't know how his brother had even met this man, or their relationship, and his head really did hurt too much for thinking. "Veh, he must be a nice man for helping us.

"I wouldn't say that just yet," he said quietly, lifting Feliciano on to the mare's back. He carefully tied the two old bags to the saddle, frowning to himself. I don't know what to think about that bastard. Nothing he's done has warrant distrust - hell, he's probably the most generous bastard I've met - but I won't fucking trust him either. What the hell is wrong with me? Green eyes flashed across his vision, boring into his. If he really did hate the guy, why did he feel almost happy to be going to live with him?

"Lovino!" A foot gently kicked him in the shoulder.

He jumped, and yelled, "What?"

"You zoned out. What were you thinking about?" Feliciano stared down at him.

"I was just wondering if this is a good idea," he said stiffly, not exactly lying.

His little brother smiled sweetly at him. "Of course it is. I don't think he would let us live with him if he was planning to do us harm. I told you things were going to get better for us."

Lovino couldn't help but smile at his brother's optimism and roll his eyes. "Shut up. You and your damn happiness," he said as he climbed in the saddle behind Feliciano.

"But happiness makes the world go 'round," Felici whined, leaning back against his brother's chest.

"Shut up and be quiet." He frowned, grabbing the reigns from around him and nudged the horse into a walk.

But for most of the ride to Arthur's estates, Feliciano continued to chat about anything and everything, just happy to be outside. At first, Lovino indulged his little brother's chatter, joining him in conversations about how pretty the sun looked shinning through the trees or the way clouds floated in the sky above them, but when Feliciano began to reminisce about the past and their grandfather, his talking turned from chatting to short replies, then to one word sentences, until all he made was the occasional "Mhm."

Feliciano knew his brother didn't like to remember the past, but he couldn't help it, things were so much more nice and easier back then. Grandpa Roma took care of them and they never had to worry about food or shelter. He had all the time he could want to paint and draw, like Grandpa had wanted him to, and he could play with all his friends whenever he wanted. He missed it.

Grandpa Roma had very different visions for each of his grandsons. For Feliciano, he made sure he had all the best art teachers and musicians to teach him the beauty in the world around him and inside him. And he taught Feliciano the best way to bring happiness to others and to smile for everyone, no matter the person. But for Lovino...he gave him a much darker education. He taught Lovino to fight, cheat, lie, and steal; all the things he hoped his other grandson would never have to learn. He toughened Lovino against the world and all its dark purposes, never giving him a glimpse of light and love. Augustus Vargas was no fool, despite his happy smile that his youngest grandson inherited, he knew his end would be bloody, but he didn't want his ending to also be the same for his grandsons. For one child, he gave the gift of happiness; but for the other, the burden of ruin.

Upon his death, he left two things behind. Happiness and Ruin.

For those of you that don't know, Feliciano's name means Happiness and Lovino's (If you replace the L with an R) means Intolerable Cruelty or Ruin. I don't think much of the fandom has realized what Lovino's name means if you just replace one letter, but it kinda makes sense, don't you think? Thank you for reading so far.

-Windy