Arthur woke slowly, remembering the night's events only as a dream, until he opened his eyes to Lovino's peaceful face resting on his chest, his arms sprawled over him. No distrust or suspicion sharpened Lovino's handsome face, sleep softened the edges that marred his everyday expressions. Could this really be the same man he'd seen writhing in ecstasy, his head thrown back and body arched, illuminated in only the light of the moon coming through the window?
He brushed his fingers over Lovino's discolored cheek, feeling the slight rush of protective anger, and pulled the blanket higher up on the sleeping man's slim hips. In the early light of day, Arthur could see Lovino clearly, unlike the night before. Light scars marked Lovino's arms, cutting through the man's deep tan like rivers that sliced through the landscape.
"Hn," Lovino murmured, curled against his side. Two lines of ragged scar tissue stood out neatly over the rest of Lovino's skin on his chest, intersecting to form a cross. With such precise work, he knew the old wound was not inflicted under normal circumstances. Arthur had never seen a scar purposefully made as if to be a brand, but this scar was not caused by fire. He rubbed his finger over the raised lines thoughtfully.
"It's given to every first-born child when they reach thirteen," Lovino spoke softly, looking up at him through half-closed, sleepy eyes. "To show our loyalty."
"To who?" He continued to trace the lines with a frown.
"My family is...was closely affiliated with the Church." Lovino frowned tiredly, rolling away from him. "Just don't ask. I have it, because I was suppose to inherit all my grandfather's duties and become head of the...er, household."
"I won't ask...at least not now." Arthur wrapped his arms around Lovino and kissed the back of his neck, bringing the man back against him. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine. You were surprisingly...gentle." Blush spread down Lovino's neck. "But you kept asking if I was alright too much."
"I know, but I didn't want to hurt you." He pressed kisses into Lovino's hair and asked softly, "Will you tell me what made you decide to come to my room?"
The man leaned against him slightly. "I wanted to see if my feelings would change if we..."
"Did it change anything?" He stared at the back of Lovino's head curiously, running his hand down the brunet's smooth stomach.
Lovino stayed silent, until he finally said, "It only confirmed what I suppose I already knew... Ti amo."
"What does that mean?"
Instead of getting angry, Lovino rolled over to face him, mischief playing in his eyes. "Learn Italian, you bastard, and maybe you'll know."
"Don't be cryptic." He pouted, and Lovino pressed a kiss to his lips.
"Just learn some Italian, dammit, or I'll stop speaking English, and then you'll have to learn it." Lovino sat up and rubbed a hand through his mussed hair.
"You're terrible. You can't just stop speaking English, I'll never be able to talk to you."
"That's the point. Learn Italian and you won't have to worry about that."
"Clever wanker. This could count as blackmail, you know."
"It's not any worse than what some woman would do." Lovino slid out of the bed, giving him a slight smile over his shoulder. "Only they wouldn't talk to you at all, and you most certainly wouldn't get any sex."
"Well, it's a good thing I'm not in love with a woman. Come back to bed."
"No, I want to get cleaned up before Feliciano wakes up." Lovino pulled on his discarded shirt and pants. "And there's someone I want to see later in the morning."
"Who?"
The brunet paused, and Arthur wonder if Lovino was thinking about lying to him. "I'm going to talk with Antonio."
Arthur sat up abruptly. "What for?"
"He's still sending fucking baskets to the house. I have more tomatoes and wine than I know what to do with. I'm going to tell him to back the fuck off."
"I'll go with you, or you can stay here and I'll talk to him for you." He flung back the blankets and slid out of bed.
"You think I'm going to let you get in a fight again," Lovino growled. "You are not going."
"Two incidents have happened when I was not present, I will not let a third occur."
"No, I'll be fine. Francis is there."
He pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed. "You think that makes me feel better?"
"Good point. If you're going to be an ass about it, I'm won't go see Antonio." Lovino frowned at him.
"That's more than fine with me. You have no reason to leave the bed now." He stood and wrapped his arms around Lovino's waist, trying to tug him back towards the bed. "Stay in bed with me."
"You seem to forget I have a brother in the next room that hasn't slept alone in years. My absence will not go unnoticed. He's going to be whiny if I neglect him and laze around with you, idiot." The Italian pushed him away gently. "Don't make that face at me. You don't want to hear Feliciano throw a tantrum, because you'll be the one listening to his shit, not me."
"I'm sure he's not that bad," he said, laughing, but Lovino's expression told himself differently. "Fine, fine. Have it your way."
Lovino rolled his eyes and walked out the door, leaving Arthur to stare at the closed door and sigh. After a moment, he let a smile pulled up the corners of his mouth. Lovino may be out of the room, but he could still feel the brunet's warm body in his arms and his heart gave a happy thump. It had been too long that unhappiness had plagued him. Arthur couldn't help, but wonder if his bad luck in love had finally begun to turn for the better. With thoughts of the of the heated night before, he was sure luck was with him for once.
Arthur used his private bathroom to wash, in a state of sickening happiness, and dressed without rush. The sun was rising higher, brightening the room, when he made his way out into the hall and to the kitchen. Lovino was already there, making bread like he did every morning, although he usually started earlier in the morning.
"Lovino! Where are you?" Feliciano burst into the room, his legs bare with no pants, all but throwing himself at Lovino.
"Hey, hey. What's wrong?" Lovino struggled to clean his hands with Feliciano attached to his arm. "Calm down, dammit."
"Where were you last night? I was so scared," the little brother cried.
He took the kettle from where Lovino had placed it on the stove for him and poured a cup of tea, watching the two brothers with passive amusement.
"I got up early. Now, what's wrong?"
"It's terrible! I heard such loud moaning last night!"
The tea caught in his throat and Arthur coughed violently. When he recovered, Lovino had turned a bright shade of red and stared at his brother in horror.
"I think the halls are haunted," Feliciano continued in a hushed voice, oblivious to Lovino's reaction. "It was so scary!"
"Perhaps...Perhaps it was just a bad dream," Arthur offered, taking a nervous sip of tea and trying not to laugh. Lovino shot a glare over Feliciano's shoulder at him as if to say, I blame you for this.
"I'm sure it a...ghost." Feliciano looked around fearfully, and crossed himself, looking towards the heavens. If it had been anyone else speaking of ghosts after the night's events, Arthur would have accused them of trying to purposefully embarrass him. "And when Lovino wasn't in bed, I got so frightened."
"Well, it's alright now. I sent all the spirits to heaven, that's why I wasn't in bed." Lovino smoothed a hand over his brother's hair and pulled his arms from their lock on his arm. "Now, go put some fucking pants on."
"You're amazing, fratello! I hope those poor spirits become angels like Grandpa, Papa, and Mama." Feliciano pressed a kiss to his brother's cheek and skipped from the room, much happier than when he entered. As soon as Feliciano left and he couldn't hear the patter the feet, Arthur burst out laughing, unable to contain himself any longer. It was quite a feat in itself that he kept a straight face through Feliciano's fit.
"Stop laughing, it's not funny." Even Lovino looked like he was having trouble to scowl disapprovingly at him.
"I know, but... Oh, come on! Ghosts!"
"Lower your voice. You'll hurt Feliciano's feelings if he hears you, and I cannot handle tears." Lovino went back to kneading bread dough. "I feel fucking terrible for lying to him."
"Oh, Lovino, it's not like you're going to tell him what we did last night." Arthur moved closer and pressed a kiss to Lovino's hair.
"Of course not, he's already been scared enough for one day."
"I didn't know you were religious. It must have been very tedious to send all those spirits to heaven," he teased.
"Say another word, and they won't be the only ones I send to heaven this morning." Lovino glared at him and set the dough aside to rise.
"I'm only joking with you, love. I'm just surprised you used such means to explain your absence. You never struck me as the religious type." Arthur leaned against the counter while Lovino did other things in the kitchen, like setting a pot on the stove.
"I'm not, Feliciano is devout enough for the both of us, but I'm not going to let him come to the conclusion of what we were doing. He's probably in our room praying for the deceased as we speak." Lovino shook his head, and poured water and oatmeal into the pot.
"Do you think he really believes it was ghosts making noises?"
"I hope. I don't want to even think of him knowing." The elder brother shuddered. "He doesn't know much about such things, I made sure of that."
"You still managed to shelter him through all the years?"
"Yes, it wasn't hard. I just made sure the idiot didn't wander into the wrong part of the town."
He chuckled. "What about the ladies? Did you scare them off?"
"No, bastard. No girl in her right mind would want to get involved with men like us, we're not worth anything. We didn't have time for courting anyway, before Feliciano got sick, it was all about working and surviving." Lovino cleaned the dishes in the sink. "Things were alright when we had jobs and could pay for food, but they were still rough."
"Would you ever go back to that kind of life—stealing and such?"
"If I had to, I suppose it wouldn't be too hard to return to side-swiping purses and selling stolen goods, but I would have no reason to do it. With Feliciano well, we can find jobs and live comfortably, depending on the job. There's only so much you can do with the little money nicking brings, and the risk involved is just too much unless you're desperate." Lovino glanced at him, somewhat wary of his questioning. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm curious. I don't know what it's like to be that desperate."
"Sometimes it's not desperation that leads people to thieving." A ruthless smirk spread over Lovino's lips. "There's always the thrill of it."
"Oh?" Arthur leaned closer, aroused by the glint in Lovino's eye. "What kind of thrill?"
"The kind that makes your blood flow faster and your heart pound in yours ears, and you never, ever want it to stop." Lovino's voice grew low and intoxicating, his hazel eyes flickering with their silent challenge as Lovino brushed his lips against his his. A hand slid down his stomach and fiddled with the last button of his shirt.
Before he could press closer and kiss Lovino, the hand pushed him away.
"Fratello, what's for breakfast?" Feliciano bounced into the room, chasing away the intimate moment. At least, he wore pants this time around.
"I have some porridge cooking." Lovino stirred the pot once and set the dough into the oven, acting as if nothing happened. "Get some bowls out, it's nearly done."
Feliciano went about setting the table, humming happily, and he couldn't be annoyed with the younger boy for interrupting him and Lovino. Although his house was rather large, with only three people living in it, it felt almost crowed to him. Arthur was use to living alone, since even before his exile from England when he living in his townhouse and visited clubs with all the other bachelors. He couldn't help but sigh as he remembered his beloved house in his homeland so far away. How he missed it.
"I think he's somewhere far away."
"Obviously. The bastard doesn't even seem to hear us."
"Maybe he's thinking about his home. He looks kind of sad."
Familiar, mellifluous voices reached his ears, speaking words he couldn't understand. It only reminded him even more that he was far from home, in an unwelcoming, friendly land. Arthur closed his eyes to banish the thoughts of beloved England, and when he opened them again, Feliciano and Lovino were staring at him. "What?"
The brothers glanced at each other, a slight shake of the head from Lovino was the only clue of a silent exchange. Lovino filled each bowl with porridge and ushered them all to the table to eat. The brothers didn't speak, other than Feliciano's usual, meaningless chatter, but Arthur often caught one or the other brother looking at him with unreadable expressions.
Once Lovino finished eating, he left the room without a word in his usual manner. Feliciano called something after him in Italian and the answer from his elder brother seemed to please him, because Feliciano grinned brightly.
"What did he say?"
"About what?" Feliciano finished eating and sat with him as he finished.
"Just now." Arthur felt subconscious about always being the last to finished every meal he had with Feliciano and Lovino.
"Oh, Lovino needed to go get something. Let's go to the library." The younger boy tugged at his sleeve like an excited child, pulling him out of his seat.
"What's the rush?" Arthur set the plates in the sink and followed Feliciano out of the kitchen, nearly being dragged down the hall by him. It still surprised him that for Feliciano's age, he still acted like a child much younger. Arthur had long ago come to the conclusion that Feliciano was overly spoiled and for some reason, although Lovino was aware of his brother's flaw, Lovino did nothing to change it. He couldn't decide whether it was out of love for his brother that he didn't scold him for most of the things he did, or just because he'd given up changing him long ago. Either way, Feliciano's ineptitude just left more work for Lovino.
"I don't know, but doesn't today just feel like it's going to be a good day?"
"I suppose?"
Feliciano pushed open the library door, taking a moment to run his fingers over the elaborate woodwork, before slipping inside. The cheerful, young man gathered his pencils and papers. Arthur watched the brunet flutter around, straightening the stacks of books that had accumulated on his tables as if in expectation of someone coming.
"He's been inside too long, it's driving him crazy," Lovino spoke from behind him, scaring him out of his skin. The elder brother caught sight of his startled expression and chuckled.
He flushed lightly. "Don't be so quiet."
"Don't be so easy to scare," Lovino replied and walked past him to sit in a large, leather chair. He noticed the case in Lovino's hands as he set it in his lap and opened the clasps.
"You're not going outside?"
"It's cold and I don't always have to work." Feliciano settled himself at Lovino's feet and rested back against his brother's legs.
"You've been here over a month and you have never taken a day off until now."
Lovino plucked at the strings of the violin and twisted the pegs slowly. "Can't I want to spend time with you and my brother? But if that's really so impossible, it snowed outside and there's no way in hell I'm going to work in that."
"It's not impossible, just surprising." Arthur went to the fireplace and started a fire. The chill of winter plague the empty house like the unmanageable amount of dust everywhere.
"Stranger things have happened." Lovino placed the instrument under his chin and drew the bow over the strings. The violin's lovely voice filled his quiet library, chasing away the air of isolation his home seemed to radiate.
Arthur sat in a chair across from the two brothers and watched them. Feliciano drew silently at Lovino's feet, while his brother played gentle music with his eyes closed, sometimes frowning at something unknown. It was a peaceful sight, one he had never been witnessed to before. A strange warmth spread through his chest and he realized, quite surprisingly, he was happy, and the two brothers before him were to blame. Before he'd met the Italian brothers, Arthur had never felt so welcomed in his home. It had never truly been a home, just his suffocating prison. And even before his exile, 'home' was an empty townhouse or, even worse, a fortress of torment and abuse, maintained by his eldest brother and other siblings. He'd never lived in a place that sincerely welcomed him, but with Lovino and Feliciano adding color to the pallid house he'd come to stay in, home didn't seem so much like a dream now.
Sorry for the long wait, I was having trouble writing for a bit. I have estimated five to six more chapter until the conclusion of Life's a Bitch. Thank you for reading.
As for Buttercups and Daisies, for those of you who care, it will probably not be updating soon. I have experienced some bumps in the writing process and haven't had the time to over come them. But do not worry about me abandoning it, I would never do that. You will just have to wait patiently.
-Windy