Francis chatted his ear off the entire ride to town, talking of useless things like flowers and how to woo women. He didn't need any advice on how to court females, and he especially didn't need any from someone like Francis, but he held his tongue in silence and let his resentment for the Frenchman grow.
"Stop here, please."
Lovino pulled back on the reigns and glanced around. They had stopped in a alley that seemed strangely like déjà vu to him, with the way it stopped shot from a brick wall and boxes were piled to the side. "Do you want me to wait for you?"
"No, I'm going to stay here instead of at Arthur's house, but would you be so kind as to help me with my bags? They're a bit too heavy for me." The Frenchman smiled sweetly.
"I watched you put them in! Why the fuck can't you take them out now!"
"Please, my wonderful Italian. I'm sure my friend inside will happily accommodate you if you help me."
He opened his mouth to tell Francis off, but a little voice whispered he could get rid of the Frenchman faster if he just complied and brought his bags in. "You're an asshole."
"Thank you, Lovino!" Francis followed him as he hopped down and grabbed the bags from the back. "I'm sure Antonio has some tasty treats for you."
"Hn." Francis led him inside a small home.
"Toni," the blond called loudly.
"Francis? Hola, mi amigo!" A dimly familiar man popped his head around the corner, and he faintly remembered a frighteningly dire situation and a kind man offering him food. Lovino, in his shock at the remembrance, dropped Francis's bags and stumbled back a few steps.
"Bonjour, Toni. This is Lovino, another friend of mine."
Antonio stepped fully into the room. "Hola, I have not seen you at the market lately. Are you well?" The man smiled kindly at him.
"I-I'm fine." Lovino didn't shrink back when Antonio approached him with his compassionate atmosphere, like he had so many week ago.
"You two know each other?"
"Si," Antonio said cheerfully. "He climbed in through my window and I gave him some tomatoes. I use to see him in the markets, stealing tomatoes and bread."
"That's very interesting." Francis eyed him with an unreadable expression. "I will set my things in your spare room."
The Spaniard barely nodded, his eyes never leaving Lovino.
"Um... Thank you," he said in Italian. It felt good to speak his native tongue after having to speak in the sharp sounds of English. "You could have thrown me out to the mob, but you didn't. I never thanked you properly, so...thanks."
"You're welcome." Antonio smiled brightly, following his example and answering in Italian, "Everyone goes through a tough time in their lives, but I can see you're doing much better."
"Si, goodbye." Lovino turned leave, but he felt a hand grab his and stopped him.
"Won't you stay a little while? I made more food than I can eat, would you like some?"
He blushed heavily at the feel of Antonio's warm, calloused hand wrapped around his. "I-I should get back."
"Por favor? I bought a new bottle of wine."
"Wine?" He immediately looked at Antonio. It had been so long since he tasted the acidic drink and he yearned for the warmth of alcohol to spread through his stomach. "Fine, I'll have a small glass, and maybe some food."
Antonio nearly blinded him with his smile and dragged him to the kitchen, forcing him to sit down at a small, slanted table. The cheery brunet set an earthen mug in front of him and popped a bottle wine open, pouring the dark liquid in his mug.
"Come on, more than that, bastard. I'm not some fucking light-weight." Lovino held out his mug, scowling at the unsatisfyingly small amount of wine in his cup.
"Si, si." Antonio laughed and filled his mug to the top.
Lovino brought the mug to his lips and drank deeply, letting the alcohol induced calm take over his mind. "So, your name is Antonio?"
"Si."
"How do you know a rich fuck like Francis? I thought you were just some produce seller."
The Spaniard sat next to him and smiled. "I wasn't always a fruit seller. A few years ago, I lived with my family in Spain and we were very wealthy at the time. But Papa drank and gambled away our fortune, leaving us penniless. I moved here, when my mother died, in hopes of finding a better job."
He actually laughed, taking another gulp of wine. "You and I ride in the same boat. Life took our money — our lives — and dropped us here, although you made off far better than me. But that's no surprise; life is such a bitch like that." The delicious wine helped him talk more freely and Antonio's open, accepting personality comforted him to speak, though he was still wary.
"I agree completely, mi corazón." Antonio filled his mug again, then poured a cup for himself.
"To Life, for taking nearly everything from me," Lovino said, raising his glass and bumped it against Antonio's, "But giving me Arthur in return, god knows he saved us."
"Arthur who? Arthur Kirkland?" Antonio frowned for what seemed like the first time.
"Do you know any other rich fucks in Italia named Arthur?" He gulped down his wine and refilled it, watching Antonio.
"Why do you know him?"
"None of your fucking business," he growled, not at all liking the disgusted tone in Antonio's voice.
"Don't get involved with him, Lovino. He's bad and you'll get hurt... You deserve better than that cruel man."
"Fuck off, I'll decide what I deserve," Lovino growled. "He's treated me far better than anyone else, and who cares if he hurts me? I've been dammed since birth, it won't kill me to be neglected again."
Antonio grabbed his hand and held it tightly in both of his larger ones. "I'd never neglect you..."
"What? Don't touch me!" Lovino tried to pull his hand away.
"I always watched you when you went through my part of the market. I tried to talk to you a couple of times, but you always ran away." Antonio kissed his hand gently, refusing to let go. "I know you don't know me very well, but I'm in love with you. I knew I was in love with you since you stole your first tomato from me."
Lovino gaped at Antonio, who just continued to kiss and caress his hand. "Y-You w-what!"
"You're beautiful, Lovino. Ti amo. I'm not rich, but I can care for you and love you more than Arthur ever could."
The wine made him bold and he leaned forward. "And what could you give me that he can't?"
"Do you really want to be with someone who doesn't even share your language with you?"
"He can learn..."
"Don't make excuses for him. He's too set in his ways to change." Antonio stared at him sadly and leaned his cheek on his hand.
He finished his wine and scowled, pulling his hand away. "I believe I should leave now."
"One last thing."
"What?"
Antonio leaned forward and caught his lips in a passionate kiss. He felt the heat from Antonio's kiss and pressure from his lips, along with the light taste of wine, but it felt nothing like when he kissed Arthur. His heart didn't jump the way it did when he was with Arthur and Lovino shot up from his seat and threw all his strength into a stinging slap against Antonio's cheek.
Lovino stumbled out of Antonio's little home, the alcohol effecting him more than he realized. He barely made it the short distant to where Mint waited, and Lovino dragged himself into the seat. His body lurched as he managed to find the reigns and get Mint moving. By the time he made it back to Arthur's estate, the wine had taken full effect and he could barely stay upright.
His thoughts, drunken and confused, were in shambles as he fell from the cart. "Arthur!" Lovino threw open the front door and called for Arthur.
Two steady arms wrapped around his waist and it took him a few moments to understand what Arthur was saying. "What's the matter with you? Have you been drinking?"
"Arthur..." Lovino leaned heavily on the blond, trying to form English words. "Would you..."
"Let's get you to bed, love." Arthur tried to step away, but Lovino held him in place.
"No! Bad Arthur!" He pouted, then asked in heavily accented English, "Would you...learn Italian?"
Arthur seemed confused by the question. "Why would I? You speak English perfectly well, even when you're roving drunk."
Lovino shoved Arthur away from him, nearly falling on his face when gravity took over. "You..." He glared at the blond, giving up on English and yelled in Italian, "You bastard! I thought you cared about me! Antonio was right, you're bad! Selfish! I hate you! Go die!"
"C-Calm down." Arthur ducked as he wooden figure came flying at him. "Bloody hell! Tranquilo?" Arthur recalled a Spanish word from the past, but that only infuriated Lovino even more.
"Bad Arthur! Bad Arthur!" Lovino shouted the only English words he could bother to remember in his drunken rage.
The blond caught his wrists and he struggled violently against Arthur's firm grip. His emotions dragged him down, drowning him in their torrent. Lovino stared teary-eyed at Arthur, shaking as he held back his tears. He felt a fat tear roll down his cheek and he hiccupped.
This seemed to panic the blond, because Arthur pulled him against his chest and kisses his forehead gently. "I'm sorry, love..."
"Bad Arthur..." Lovino sniffled.
"Yes, very bad Arthur."
He hardly noticed being led to Arthur's bedroom, nor did he notice Feliciano watching them from the hall. Lovino just continued to murmur "Bad Arthur" and let the blond help him into bed. The sheets smelled like Arthur and he almost giggled.
"Go to sleep, love." The blond pulled off his shoes and tucked the covers over him. Arthur kissed his cheek and turned to leave.
"Bad Arthur... Stay... Per favore?" Lovino tugged Arthur's sleeve pleadingly.
"Alright..." Arthur removed his shoes and slowly climbed under the blankets with him, settling far from him.
Even in his dulled mind, Lovino found it in himself to be embarrassed as he pressed against Arthur's side, using the other man's shoulder as a pillow. But the gentle stroking of his hair soon relaxed him and he let himself sleep.
...
"Ugh," he groaned and pressed his face into his pillow, trying to will the light from reaching his eyelids. The pillow was strangely warm and hard, and an irritating thumping noise beat right next to his ear, but he found it somewhat comforting. "Am I dead...?"
"Sorry, love, but you are very much alive."
Lovino opened his eyes and slowly looked up. His pillow had a pair of beautiful, green eyes that stared at him sleepily. "What...the fuck...?"
Arthur rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. "Why must you curse so early, or late, in the day? And why did you come home falling over drunk?"
"I don't know..." Lovino tried to sit up, but Arthur kept his arms wrapped around his waist, stopping him from moving.
"Don't give me that load of shite. What happened after you left with Francis? I ought to blacken that frog's eye for getting you drunk. Did he do anything...?" The blond tightened his arms around him almost protectively.
He sighed and let Arthur hold him, the pounding in his head growing unbearable. Lovino could remember the conversation he had with Antonio and making it back, but it started to get fuzzy when he tried to think of how he got to bed and how Arthur got in bed with him. "He didn't do anything. I just drove him into town."
"And?"
"None of your fucking business!" Lovino wiggled out of Arthur's arms. His head throbbed worst from his outburst and he groaned loudly. "It doesn't matter... Francis just went to stay with some guy named Antonio."
"What? Did you talk to that bloody wanker?" Arthur eyes hardened and he spat with venom, "Don't listen to a word that son of a bitch said."
His eyes narrowed and he stared at Arthur in suspicion. "Why? Is there something you don't want him to tell me?"
"That's not what I meant. Antonio is an untrustworthy maggot and anything he say will only confuse you." The blond sighed and touched his cheek lightly. "I'm sorry, love. Just thinking about that tosser infuriates me."
The Italian leaned away from his touch, avoiding his eyes, and nodded.
"What did he say to you?" Arthur knew Antonio must have done something to make Lovino so distant from him.
Lovino remembered Antonio's confession and the heated kiss afterwards. The thought made him blush. "Nothing important..."
Before Arthur could question him further, Feliciano's voice rang through the house. "Arthur! Someone left a basket on the doorstep!"
Arthur got up and walked out of the bedroom, much to his relief. When Arthur was gone, Lovino realized that he was in Arthur's room, in Arthur's bed. He smoothed down the sheets and sighed. Was it wrong of him to have doubts about Arthur? The blond had given a home to him and his brother, along with plenty of food, and even affections he thought he'd never have, but it all seemed too good to be true. He was expecting some disaster to force him from the comfortable life he'd grown to love. Life was there, waiting to take away the first happy thing that happened to him in what seemed years.
"Lovino?" Arthur set a small basket in his lap, trying to hide his troubled expression. "It's for you."
Lovino scowled and lifted the cloth that covered the basket. Six ripe, fresh tomatoes sat innocently inside and a folded piece of paper rested on top of the vibrant fruit. His named was scrawled across the paper and he reluctantly opened the note. Lovino knew the writing was in Italian, but he could hardly read the sloppy handwriting. After many moments of staring, the scratches on the paper finally began to form words.
Dear Lovi— Can I call you that?
I hope you get these tomatoes, they are only a small fraction of my love for you. If you asked me to give you the world, I would try my hardest to fill your request. I only wish to make you happy, my beautiful one. I love you.
Owner of the heart you hold,
Antonio Fernandez Carriedo
His face grew brighter with every word he read, his embarrassment only grew when Arthur asked, "What does it say?"
"I-I don't know!" Lovino tore the note into fourths and threw them off the side of the bed. He took a tomato, taking a bite from the delicious fruit, and shoved the basket back at Arthur. "Take these to the kitchen."
Arthur frowned and took the basket, watching Lovino quickly devour the tomato and bury himself under the blankets. He bent down and picked up the pieces of paper. "Alright. I hope you feel better, love," Arthur said and left the room quietly.
He found Feliciano sitting in the kitchen, arranging flowers in a vase on the table. The little Italian looked up questioningly when he entered. "How is he?"
"He has a headache from the wine and a new suitor, it seems." He set the tomatoes on the table and handed Feliciano the note. "Please, translate this."
Feliciano's sweet face twisted in worry and concern as he laid out the pieces on the table top. He watched Feliciano look from him to the note, his troubled expression mirroring his feelings. "But this was for Fratello, I shouldn't read it."
"Just read it." Feliciano read the note to him and he felt cold rage twist in the pit of his stomach, spreading through his body like a slow poison.
"W-Who is Antonio?"
"A dead man. If Lovino looks for me, tell him I went out." Arthur turned away stiffly, not wanting Feliciano to panic at the surely enraged expression on his face.
"W-Wait! What ever you're going to do, Lovino won't like it," Feliciano pleaded. "Just stay here."
"I'm sorry, Feliciano. I'll be back soon." He walked out, his fists clenched at his sides.
And so I bring back the Spaniard that hasn't been in the story since the first chapter! I hope you readers like this, there more to come. After this little bit of drama, I'll start on the ending of the entire story.
-Windy