When Lovino woke in the morning, the sun was already high in the sky. At first, he wondered why it was so bright around him, after deciding it was the sun shinning through the window. Wait, window? The barn doesn't have any windows! Where the hell am I? He sat up quickly, ignoring the displeased whine beside him, and looked around at the white walls. Slowly, all the events of yesterday came back to him and calmed the panic that had come rushing to meet him. Another whine came from the slightly roused body beside him and he reached over and stroked his brother's hair, just so he would go back to sleep. And as he hoped, Feliciano settled back down, allowing Lovino to carefully slip out of bed and out the door.
"So, you're finally awake?" A familiar voice asked from behind him.
He slowly turned to face the blonde man, refusing to show that he startled him. "No, I'm still fucking asleep, bastard," he growled sarcastically.
Arthur sighed at Lovino's hostility, much to his annoyance.
"What do you want? Or were you just trying to sneak up on me?" He glared at Arthur suspiciously. "Because you're going to have to do better than that."
The Brit scowled at him. "Can't you be even slightly civilized towards me?"
"Hell no."
"Why?"
'Because I don't need any attachments,' he thought. Never having real friends before, Lovino didn't know how to act towards people without an ulterior motive. Yes, he can fake any emotion, but how does he make that real? Hell if he knows. "Because."
"That's not an answer." Arthur frowned at him.
He rolled his eyes. "Then, I guess you're not getting an answer."
Arthur let out a heavy sigh. "Anyway, I thought now would be a good time to show you around my property."
"Alright, bastard," he said with mild curiosity.
With a nod, Arthur showed him around the giant house. He had known the house was large, but once he'd been shown the entire mansion, it convinced him of the enormity. It amazed him that this was only home to one man. Just the many bedrooms alone were enough to house multiple families comfortably.
The parlor room held many comfy chairs and couches (All of which, Lovino tried out when he thought Arthur wasn't looking), that all matched together. Not a single thing seemed out of place, from the drapes hanging on the many windows to the assortment of lamps and rugs. It all was so perfect. Impersonal. Lonely.
"Lovino?" Someone's hand touched his lightly.
He jerked away from the contact. "Don't fucking touch me!"
Arthur looked startled by his outburst. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"No... It was stupid of me to freak out like that," Lovino surprised himself by saying. "Just...don't do that without warning."
"I said your name three times..."
"I was thinking, bastard," he growled, feeling embarrassed and guilty.
The Brit gave him a curious stare. "What were you thinking about?"
"How a man can live in such a big place all alone. No wonder you're so damn crazy, there's no way living like this can be good for anyone."
His eyebrows scrunched together as he pouted, it almost seemed endearing to Lovino. "I told you before, I'm not crazy, and living alone is perfectly healthy. Many people do it."
"Yeah, and they're all old and bat-shit crazy," he said, enjoying the exasperated look on Arthur's face. "Maybe we'll be the ones saving you, instead of you saving us— Let's move it, show me the next room." A light shade of pink covered his cheeks, unable to believe he just said that.
"Alright. No need to be so demanding," Arthur said, ignoring his own blush, led him to the dinning room.
The long table, obviously meant to hold many guests, stood bare and empty. A glass cabinet held all the fragile china plates and silver serving trays, along with many crystal wine glasses. At the sight of such rare treasures (Although, he wouldn't have considered them rare before his Grandfather died), Lovino tried to calculate how much they cost. They were most likely more than he could even dream of being able to afford again (if ever).
He went to the tall cabinet and took out one of the small plates, running his hands over the smooth surface and brushed dust off the plate, and old memories.
"Be careful! Those are fragile, idiot!"
"Don't yell at me!" His baby brother, at the stubborn age of five, balanced on a chair and reached for the beautiful plates that stayed just out of his reach.
From behind him, Lovino watched carefully. "Just get down and let me do it."
"No! I'm a big boy like you, I can set the table and be useful!" Feliciano whined, gently taking down the plates.
"Not so many, you're going to fall— Feliciano!" He rushed forwards to catch his brother, but the weight of another body sent them both falling to the ground while plates shattered all around them.
"Feliciano! Are you alright?" Their grandfather had come running in at the sound of the crash, and scooped up the crying child.
"I-I'm sorry!" The younger boy wailed, hugging tightly on to his grandfather.
"It's alright," the older man cooed and took him away.
Lovino laid on the floor, forgotten, his head spinning from coming in contact with the hard ground and stars fading from his vision. The impact had jarred his small body, pain spread across his entire backside. He breathed through his nose, staring at the ceiling. He was not going to cry. Big boys don't cry.
"Get up," his grandfather ordered, having come back from calming Feliciano down.
He stumbled to a standing position, dragging a sleeve across his eyes. "I'm sorry. I tried to catch him."
"You should know better than to let him do such things! He could have been hurt!" Grandpa Roma's voice rose, concern filled his honey-colored eyes, the same eyes as Feliciano.
"I told him to get down and let me do it, but he wouldn't listen! It's not my fault he fell!"
"It is your fault! You're the oldest and you have to take care of your brother, he is your responsibility," his grandfather said sternly. "Now pick up this mess."
"It's not my fault!" It was always like this. He didn't matter when it came to his brother.
"Now, Lovino."
He flinched at the tone of his voice and bowed his head, his fists clenched at his sides. "I hate you," he said quietly.
"What did you say?"
"I hate you! I hate Feliciano! I hate everyone!" He screamed at the wide-eyed man in front of him, and ran out the back door.
After that, everything changed for the Vargas family. His grandfather stopped trying to put up with Lovino, and every moment alone together was tense and uncomfortable. Feliciano didn't know what had happened, he just wanted things back to the way they were before, and he told them that many times, almost always in tears. This usually ended in Lovino telling him to shut up, only to be scolded by Grandpa Roma to be nice to his brother who became silent and glared at his grandfather. In the end, Feliciano stopped trying to fix it, and smiled as much as he could, because he loved his brother and his grandfather and just wanted them to be happy together again.
"Lovino!" Arthur yelled as he literally shook the Italian from his memories.
He stared blankly at the blonde, still trying to reconnect with the present. "What...?"
"Are you alright?" Arthur couldn't hide the concern that welled up in him, tightening his grip on the other's shoulders. The strained, bitter expression on Lovino's face had nearly sent him into a panic.
"I'm fine, dammit. You worry too much," he said, slowly putting away the small dish.
"You looked like you've seen a ghost..."
"In a way, I did," he mumbled under his breath and marched out of the room. He rarely let himself reminisce the past, especially about things he rather forget, yet the ache of the flashback still lingered in his heart, poking at him to be remembered. "Next room!"
Arthur followed the stormy Italian, utterly confused by the other male's behavior. He knew Lovino had remembered something; the far-away looked had told him that much, but how could one of his best china plates do that? Arthur was beginning to suspect Lovino hadn't always been penniless and homeless. "The last room I want to show you is the Library. Please, follow me."
"Would you stop with the polite shit?" Lovino growled at him, falling into step beside him.
"Has it ever occurred to you, this is just the way I am?"
"That's bullshit."
"And how do you know?" Arthur turned to face Lovino, their eyes locked in a glaring match. Yes, he had had his rebellious phase, but he had given all that up and hadn't even gotten in a fight in years. That might be because he never goes out drinking at bars, but still!
"Your ears are pierced and you have gold earrings in them," Lovino pointed out with a smirk.
Arthur's hand went up to touch the mark of his younger years (Even though, those 'younger years' had only been a few years ago), wondering how he had noticed them; they were usually covered by his mope of messy hair. He never had the heart to let the holes heal shut for sentimental reasons. "Those are from a long time ago."
"Stop acting like you're already old fucking retired man! I can't even guess how fucking old you are! You look in your damn twenties, but you act like you're sixty!"
"I'm just twenty, and I am retired, kinda," Arthur muttered, looking away from the angered Italian.
Lovino stared at him. I hate him so much. He's only one year older than me and far better off. Damn bastard.
"What's that look for...?"
"How the hell are you fucking retired? You're only twenty! How do you already own such a huge home?" Lovino exploded at him, throwing his hands up.
"I'm a family doctor and none of the families I work for are sick at the moment. As for this house, I inherited it from my mother's side of the family," Arthur answered calmly, although the ferocity of Lovino's anger was a bit startling.
"I should have guessed," he mumbled. "Why aren't you married? I'm sure plenty of donne would go for a rich bastard like you."
Blush spread quickly across the Brit's cheeks as he tried to find his voice to answer him. "U-Uh... I-I just haven't found the right...person."
He frowned at the blonde man who fidgeted nervously under his stare. "Have you even looked for a nice girl?"
"Er... Let's finish the tour of the house." Arthur quickly turned and walked away.
He followed as Arthur pointed out different doors (That all looked the same to him), telling him which were bedrooms, closets, or washrooms (He decided not to show him the upstairs, which mostly composed of bedrooms). Finally, they came to a door that differed from the others. It was large and beautifully carved with animals and outlandish creatures.
"This is my library."
Lovino stopped Arthur from opening the door, and ran his hands over the elaborate woodwork. The carvings seemed so real, like they would dance out of the wood into the world around him. Even simple animals held as much magic as the strange creatures around them. "What are these?" He asked in awe.
"That one's a fairy and this one's a troll," Arthur said, staring at the mystified boy.
"I've only seen such things once before." Lovino traced the curve of a pretty fairy's wing. A pale hand took his and guided it to another mythical being.
"This is an elf," Arthur said, suddenly much closer to him than before.
He didn't seem to notice as he stared at the beautiful woman's carved face. "Bella... Fuck!" Lovino jerked away when he finally realized the English bastard was touching him. His cheeks burned as blood rushed to his cheeks. He couldn't believe Arthur had touched him again.
The Brit cleared his throat and took a step away from him, his cheeks also aflame with blush. He pushed the door open, and said stiffly, "The library."
Lovino didn't seem to know whether to punch Arthur for getting too close to him or stare at the millions of books that lined the walls. He finally settled for staring at the books, aching to run his fingers over all the bindings and settle into a chair with one.
Every wall was covered in huge bookshelves that stretched from ceiling to floor, and each shelf filled with books of all sizes and colors. In the middle of the East wall, the bookshelves stopped and gave way to long windows that looked out to a grand garden. Couches were dispersed nicely throughout the room, mostly in front of the sizeable fireplace. And in the corner, a spiral staircase led up to the second level of shelves.
"Amazing, right? My mother made Father build this place just for her and her books," Arthur said softly. "That's her garden too. Although, now it's all mine."
Lovino stepped forward and pressed his hand against the cool glass, looking out over the various flowers. He figured they'd all be gone when the first frost came with a silent, quick death for them. "She must have been a wonderful woman."
"She was. Do you remember your mother?" He asked cautiously, not wanting to scare off the young man who didn't seem to have an once of trust in him.
"No. She died when Feliciano was born. But my grandfather always said she was the most beautiful woman in all of Italy," he said, deciding it was alright to tell him this small piece of information. "I saw a painting of her once. She was as pretty as Grandfather always described her."
Arthur stared at Lovino's turned back, wondering if it was safe to ask about more. "What about your father?"
"A tall German from up North. He ended up dying in war before I could walk." Lovino still didn't seem bothered by the questioning.
"And your grandfather?"
The Italian's whole body tensed, and all he said was, "Dead."
He could see he wasn't going to get anymore about his family out of him with his guard up again. "Why did you try to steal my book?"
"Feliciano wanted to read," Lovino said, secretly relieved for the change of subject.
"Really?" He was happily surprised. "If he wants, he's welcome to borrow as many as he likes."
"Reading isn't what he really wants," Lovino said softly, taking down a book and flipping through it.
"Oh?" Arthur was a bit disappointed by that, he wanted someone to talk about books with.
"No, he loves painting and sketching. He hasn't been able to do it much since...since a long time ago," he answered slowly.
"I could go out and buy him some paper and coal."
Lovino's eyes snapped to his. "No. I don't want to be more in debited to you than I have to. And I don't want your fucking charity either."
"Think of it as a welcome gift to Feliciano. I'm sure he wouldn't turn it down," he said calmly, thinking that maybe if he made the younger brother happy, it would relax the other.
The Italian hesitated, caught between his brother's happiness and his own pride. After a long pause, he finally said, "Do whatever the hell you want."
Arthur couldn't help the smile that forced its way on to his lips. "Alright. No reason to be rude."
"Shut the fuck up." Lovino turned his attention back to the book still in his hands.
"Do you like to read?"
"No," Lovino said sharply, shoving the book back into its place and walking out of the library.
He sighed softly, and followed the hot-head Italian back through the house to their bedrooms. Stubborn Italian.
Translation:
Donne (Italian)= women
Fratello (Italian)= brother
Fratellone (Italian)= big brother
Fratellino (Italian)= little brother
When I first wrote the flashback, Rome was much, much more cruel to Lovino. But I don't really like thinking of him like that, so I made him a bit neglectful of Lovino instead. I hope that choice of was good one, I think it was. And if you didn't figure it out, Arthur's basically a rich, social recluse, that cut himself off from the rest of aristocracy society to live in a empty house with no one, but his books. But there's a reason that he's not in England doing this, and that will come up soon. Thank you for reading so far.
-Windy