Flamenco Partner

This was the type of evening he hated. The rain and the clouds and the thunder as if it was calling the world to fall apart. Sitting inside next to the fire did not abate his feelings of ill ease.

Despite what others would believe, he felt this way more often than not. The facade of happiness, the one he had seen on a small Italy back when he was younger had been absolutely captivating. He had been attracted to that happiness, he still was. More than anything he wanted to know how it was possible to see the good in so many situations, to believe that there was optimism despite the circumstances. This happiness of his was usually fake.

If he faked it long enough, it became true. If he was happy, he did not have to worry about his own feelings affecting anyone else. They would be happy and then maybe, when it all boiled down to it, he could be happy.

More than anything he wanted to experience true happiness, if even for just a moment.

Once it was believed that Nuberu was the instigator of ill weather. When he needed to be amused Nuberu would begin a gale or strike down wandering people with lightning. The Cloud Master was cruel beyond words, only kind to those who had done him a previous favour. Destruction of houses and crops by this weather were all because divinity was bored. It could be wondered if causing weather changes was the only ability he had, so that there was nothing less violent which could consume his interests. His large hat covered those eyes which could see through dark.

For some reason, bells would be used to scare him away. As if something so small could scare something of so much power, as if Nuberu would even be close enough to hear such a little sound to be frightened. It was a ridiculous thought.

Yet, as Antonio had always hated these nights, he would ring a little bell in the dim hope that Nuberu would go away. Years had gone by. Nuberu was a thing of the past, a story of his very faint youth, which no one believed in any longer. But doing something was always better than doing nothing. The bell would ring and the rain went on.

There was a night he stopped that tradition because he could not be bothered to carry it along anymore. The rain and the clouds and the thunder on these nights would come again and everything would be the same as if he was still ringing that bell. His mind would attempt to cast it aside because there were other (more or less) important things to think about. It would do no good though, for his mind would be trapped in this.

A fist beat against the door.

"Yo! Bastard! Let me in!"

The voice was muffled by the winds, by the door, but Antonio would never be mistaken when hearing that voice. Quickly he made his way to the door, opening it as fast as he could despite the fact there felt like there was a great weight on it. Lovino did not wait to be welcomed, simply came in out of the rain, soaking wet.

"Lovi! What are you–" Antonio began only to be cut off.

"Don't just stand there! Get me a towel! Useless..."

"Aw~ You came all this way in this weather just to see me?" Antonio sounded happy, as he usually did, but throughout the rest of him washed concern. In this weather? The weather he could barely stand to look at, let alone set foot in? How long had Lovino been out there, subjected to the whims of an angry sky, while Antonio had simply been inside relishing warmth? He wanted to shout, he wanted to tell the other never to do that any more, never again.

But shouting, lecturing, correcting made Lovino upset (more than usual) and Antonio could not stand for that.

"I'm not going to stand here in wet clothes forever, stupid!"

Antonio smiled and went off to get him a towel and dry clothes.

How often was it that Lovino would come to his house? Comparing the time to when he used to live here, it did not seem like much at all. In no way was Antonio isolated where he lived. He did not stay in one place and wait for company, though company did come. Antonio liked company, he liked to hear people talking, he liked to hear people talking to him. They all seemed to expect answers though, answers of which Antonio could never truthfully give. So he would replace them with what someone would expect to hear from someone like him. What Antonio wished his real answers were.

Lovino came and railed at him. It really did not matter what Antonio said, because Lovino always heard what he wanted to hear unless it was so out of the blue that he could not comprehend it. Antonio kept up practice of saying his silly and useless words, because he did not want to forget how.

But occasionally, he would say whatever he wanted. As long as it was in the same ballpark, Lovino did not care, did not notice, and would continue talking.

Antonio was glad for that.

He had plenty of Lovino's clothes here, somehow they ended up all over the place without Antonio's knowledge. Still, he took some of his own clothes out of the dryer and brought those with him.

"If I'd known this goddamn storm was going to show up, I wouldn't have bothered coming," Lovino was saying. He had stripped himself without much care. It was not the first time he had seen Lovino naked, after all, and Lovino was not particularly shy about it. He yanked the towel from Antonio's hands and quickly started to dry off.

"Why did you come?" Antonio asked cheerfully. Lovino grabbed the clothes from his hands next and looked at it for a moment. Antonio wondered if Lovino knew just how much of his clothes were actually in his house, how much easier it would have been to pick those up and give them to him.

"I don't even remember," Lovino snorted, pulling on Antonio's shirt.

The both of them were alike in the way they were lazy. Antonio was lazier in the morning, Lovino was lazier as the day went on. It was probably why Lovino always tried to clash with him, their energy levels always seemed to miss each other. Lovino had always had to wake him up when he had been staying at his house and then Antonio would always try and keep him up so that any sort of work would be done.

"You going to wake up or am I going to have to make you?"

Antonio startled awake because of a nightmare he had had a long time ago. It had never happened and Lovino had never actually made a threat of it after his height had passed Antonio's hip, but as it was so reminiscent of when he was younger Antonio could not help but think that Lovino might actually jump on top of him.

"Che~ Stupid."

He was asleep on the couch. Antonio did not remember falling asleep, nor did he remember getting himself a blanket. He would have thought it was Lovino, but considering the other it was unlikely. It was the perfect time to start speaking though. "A blanket? Oh, Lovino, you didn't have to!"

"I-I didn't!" the Italian denied, scoffing as he left the room. "I'm not making your breakfast, boss!"

Antonio smiled (again, despite the fact there was no one right there to see it) and got up.

One of the things Antonio most missed from his younger days was cooking with Lovino. Needling Lovino to do anything, actually, for the younger Nation always seemed to stop doing anything about halfway through and watch him finish it up as if he could not be bothered, as if Antonio had actually been the one doing everything all the time. Antonio knew this was because if Lovino did not think he had actually done something all by himself he did not have to worry about getting any praise for it and then he would not be disappointed.

As the one who had commented how horrible some of the things Lovino did when he had first been given him as a servant, Antonio blamed himself for the other's outlook. So he did not complain when he was the only one actually making breakfast. Maybe if he did, maybe if he confronted this (the both of them) something would change. Antonio was not the confrontational type.

He spoke about nonsense using nonsense and Lovino responded noncommittally until they were finally eating breakfast.

"La Feria de abril de Sevilla."

"Hm?" Lovino never really spoke in Spanish, just as Antonio never really spoke in Italian. They understood each other, but never made the effort otherwise.

"Doesn't it start tonight." Lovino was not asking, because he already knew.

"Lovi~ You want to spend the fair with me?"

"N-No! I was just asking! Don't just make stuff up because you want it!" Lovino quickly spat out, stuffing his face with food. Just as quickly though, he swallowed and spoke again before Antonio could. "Though you'd probably be by yourself if I didn't, right? ...I guess I could take the time. Just so you don't have to be bored or something. This isn't a favour!"

They would be amongst his people. If Lovino did not come, Antonio would have still been amongst his people. He would never be alone like that and Lovino knew it. Still, as that was the way Lovino wanted to excuse his decision Antonio was not going to question it.

"This is wonderful! I will have to make tapas!"

"Idiot, why bother? Just eat them from the people who'll already have them there!"

Lovino was fighting his own smile and that just made Antonio smile wider.

Lovino was very good at acting like he did not want what he really wanted. Antonio wondered if it was an act, like this, or whether Lovino was actually stumbling through all of his words because he did not know better how to express himself. The latter seemed more likely. Antonio did not think Lovino could really be conniving even if he tried. If he could though, Antonio wondered whether it would be anything like what he was doing now. The flip side of always pretending to be happy, always pretending to be angry. But Antonio could not see the point in trying to find true anger. Anger was not hard to find in the world.

Antonio was wearing his most fancy traje corto. It was mostly a deep red, a colour most people assumed that Antonio loved. He did, though not for the reasons most people thought he did. He had been unable to convince Lovino to dress up as well, though the Nation was wearing some of his older and therefore more flashy clothes, but not what Antonio had wanted to make him dress up in.

"Isn't this fun?" Antonio asked him as Lovino was busy downing another glass of manzanilla.

"Free food? Of course it's fun!"

Antonio laughed, partly because it was in his character and partly because he knew Lovino would not be here just for the free food. Lovino had once made a habit of taking food from his house when he was not there, with the excuse that Antonio would have let him eat it if he had been there. Which was true enough.

Lovino was here for more than the food. Antonio hoped it was for the dancing.

After midnight was the only window of time which both of them were lively. It was also when Antonio knew him to be the calmest – at least when he was not trying to go to sleep. So out amongst the part of the April Fair they were both in their element. Antonio knew he could suggest something without being shot down and Lovino had stopped pretending to complain about what was going on. This was what Antonio hoped Heaven could be like – a constant party in the dark of night, lights everywhere so that it could almost be considered day.

Not that he expected to go to Heaven. He wished for a place to go where he could continue to watch over South Italy, but knew that was too much to ask for the life he had lead and would continue to lead when this week was said and done.

Lovino was sitting somewhere on the sidelines and Antonio found himself the centrepiece of a baile por sevillanas.

It was something he could never lie about or during. It was an easy flamenco, a beginner's dance, song. It was the dance most people knew his flamenco for, despite the controversy of how 'flamenco' it really was. Antonio did not care. It was a dance and it expressed everything about him and more.

All that came to his mind was what he heard, what he felt. He would shut his eyes so as to keep out everyone else. As much as he enjoyed watching one's arms, one's legs, one's everything during this dance, when it came to himself he focused on only five things. The guitar. The lyrics. The claps. The ground. His heartbeat. He danced and there was no fear of a fault, of falling into anyone else. His current partner was there, another drummed beat into the ground. As was everyone else around him. There was nothing else except for this dance.

It was almost as if he was no longer himself. No longer a Nation, no longer Humanoid. No longer under the restraints of anything except for the rhythm of his own body and the steps required for this particular dance. There were no false smiles here, no frowns either. Nothing except for the elation of a dance. One he knew inside and out, one he knew better than anyone else could possibly know. This was where he started and he had learned so much since then. No one questioned his ability. Even those who did not recognize him on sight knew who he was now and Antonio did not care about that one bit.

His feet stomped into the ground. The collected sound was like rain against a window, but with warmth. His arms moved to the front of him, to the sides, as if silently describing something that no one would ever be able to see.

The thrum of the guitar sounded as if it would never end.

"Why didn't you join?" he asked Lovino afterward. "I know you can dance sevillanas!"

"I didn't want to," Lovino shrugged and because of how it was, because of the time of night, Antonio knew it was the truth. Something inside him felt like it deflated, but he was not certain whether it was because of Lovino's answer or because he was no longer dancing.

In his mind though, he still was. Not sevillanas, but something much closer to gitano, from where it came. Improvised motions of which he would always know, a smooth dance that he would never be at a loss for inspiration.

He was, however, at a loss of breath for the moment and so sat next to Lovino and let the night dance on.

Lovino did not like watching the bullfighting. He said so very loudly as if he was daring any of the surrounding Spaniards to try and convince him otherwise. Antonio could not see why.

"The bravest men in the world stand there."

"You mean the stupidest! What moron would face a bull with only a sword?" It was a different argument than before, when Lovino actually took the side of the bull. Antonio had not seen the problem in that either. The toros were treated well and lived pleasantly for four years. Matadores were to strike to kill quick and cleanly. It was the goal of the victory, to do so beautifully and without cruelty. It was something he and Francis had come to enjoy in its utter perfection.

"They fight fairly, I think. Close combat, as opposed to hunting nowadays."

"They are only allowed in once, if they survive, but your people get to train themselves for it!"

Antonio smiled (but this time it was rather a wry one). "There would be nothing left of a fighter if the bulls returned. They learn much more quickly than we."

Once more, Lovino did not have another argument so they went to watch the 'running of the bulls'.

Antonio watched, his own mind in the body of the matador. It was another dance, with an unforgiving partner and a dawning end for either one of two. The lances had passed, sticking out of the neck as a target for the murderer to be able to make his kill without the creature suffering, as an act of blood letting for the beast's carnal knowledge to make a life-or-death effort, as a chance for another man to make it home today.

It was a dance, one which required such close contact with both the bull and death. Antonio watched as he always did, absolutely fascinated and feeling each step, each sweep, as if he were the one down there moving so.

He was distracted by a small squeak and when he turned to see, it was Lovino covering his face so that he could not watch.

In respect, Antonio made no comment (either false or real) when the estocada pierced the aorta (or was it the heart?).

Lovino did not cry, as Antonio always thought he might, but they were the first to leave La Real Maestranza and missed the mules coming out to parade the body of the glorious, wondrous, one who had lost.

They did go back to Antonio's house, when they were too tired to do anything more. It was always when the night was no longer for sleeping that neither of them could seem to stay still for long. Lovino said it was because he did not want to miss out on the food Antonio was going to get him. Antonio knew it was because missing any moment of those crowds and that music and the everything was simply an appalling feat. The sooner they fell asleep the sooner they could head back.

Lovino would practically drag him out of the house if he was not moving fast enough and Antonio would slow his pace just a little so that Lovino could continue to do so.

"We should make some paper lanterns," Antonio would suggest, all of his excitement in his voice as if that would convince Lovino to say yes to it. Lovino's eyes lit upon the branches and the small lights that together made up a sun.

"Maybe," he said. As it was not midnight yet, Antonio was not certain whether that was a yes or not, or what was going through the other's head at all.

The dancing on the fifth night was as rampant and excited as it had been on the first. Antonio pleaded for Lovino to join him, but the Italian would not have any of it. Once more he found himself dancing amongst people of which he only knew a few of their names. Not that it mattered, he was not alone. He was never alone.

"Are you sure you do not want to dance, Lovi~?" Antonio would pout and Lovino would get red to the roots of his hair.

"Yes!"

"But why?"

Lovino would stare at him as if Antonio should simply understand. Antonio tried, to save Lovino the trouble, but came up with nothing that would make any sense when coming from Lovino.

"I can't watch you if I'm dancing."

It took the words a little while to sink in and Antonio was not ready with his smile as fast as he would have liked. He was not thinking about it like that and maybe because of that Lovino suddenly looked worried.

"An-Antonio? I... I didn't mean, um..."

Antonio could not remember the last time he had smiled without thinking too much about it. He extended his hand forward.

"Dance with me. I'll dance for you any time."

Lovino muttered something that Antonio could not quite hear, but he took Antonio's hand and joined him in the (so small, yet beautiful) world of flamenco.

Lovino danced as if he had forgotten quite what it was he was doing, as if he had no idea how it was that he had gotten to this point and it was the only thing left familiar to hang on to. The only sign of his concentration were in his eyes, of which never blinked as if he thought doing so would cause him to miss where the ground was. People gravitated to him immediately.

If only he realized how many people were attracted to his sense of self, when there was no sign of his self-deprecation. That voice, those movements, that being which could be so strong.

Antonio danced with his eyes open.

Regaining his composure, Lovino had asked it of him right as they had gotten home. His face was red again (though that might have been because of the wine) and his voice was stuttering. Antonio was tired, but all of his energy seemed to crawl back into each one of his limbs when Lovino's request left his tongue.

"Y-you'd really dance for me?"

Lovino was standing there and responding in words felt as if that would ruin the moment. Moving to find the music seemed like it would take to long. Antonio slid one foot in front of the other, arms circled slightly in front of him.

There was a beat. Cliché as it might be, his heart was steady. He felt everything that he wanted to do, imagined everything he wanted to feel, believed in everything he wanted to imagine and danced.

Surprisingly, it was not very long. Antonio found himself surprised that he had stopped. Was that really all what he had inside him? Was that all? Managed to be condensed into something that no words could describe... maybe it was enough.

It was quiet. Quiet because Lovino was waiting for Antonio to ask him what he thought of it and quiet because Antonio had no words left to say. Lovino was the first to break out of the spell, arms folding across his chest.

"I liked it."

Lovino, ever blunt. It was almost as if he had slapped Antonio in the face. Lovino never lied to be positive, but for some reason it did not sound as if it fit. Then Lovino finished his thought.

"But it was missing something."

Antonio agreed. But in order to continue to be able to be who had had made himself, he had to force out the stupidest answer. "Music?"

Lovino scoffed and stomped out of the room.

They were cleaning up from dinner, Antonio found himself rambling about something else from the festival and how it would be lovely that they did it again? Placing the plates into the sink it struck him how Lovino was actually carrying the glasses. It was probably the only thing Lovino would do to help him clean right now, he knew that. But it was the impulsive realization, the jealousy he felt that neither of them could imagine how it was to be perfect, the wish he had that Lovino at least could, that caused him to lean over and kiss him.

It was not something he had thought about for a while, it was not something he had ever dreamed about. And yet this action had been a long time in coming. Maybe he could have thought of a better time, because Lovino dropped the glasses and they shattered on the tile floor. Still, his hands did not come up to fight Antonio off, but to grip either side of his face as if to keep him from pulling away. Lovino's hands held him so tightly that it hurt. Antonio let the plates in his hands fall into the sink, though a little more gently than the broken glasses on the floor.

He was only allowed to breath when Lovino pulled back, both of them panting.

"Goddamnit, Spain!" he hissed quietly. Antonio was not allowed to respond as Lovino kissed him again. After a few more times of those, Antonio finally brought his hands up so as to stop Lovino and keep his head still.

"Don't swear at me," he said calmly before kissing him again.

It was strange, that was the first thing to come out of his mouth. He had never even been bothered by Lovino's language. He had been friends with Gilbert long enough that such things did not phase him. This would not seem as real if Lovino had not done so. But it was what he had said.

They only stopped when Lovino swore again, having stepped on one of the pieces of glass. Without missing a beat, Antonio lifted the other up so as to remove it and wrap his foot up.

They were quiet again. It was not natural between them and it felt more awkward than it probably was. This was the opposite of the 'comfortable silence'. Antonio tried to be the one to fix this.

"You should be more careful! Your sad little foot~" Antonio frowned as he finished bandaging it up. Lovino stared down at his toes with a rather vague expression.

"It was worth it."

"What?"

Lovino flushed and looked away from him and it hit Antonio exactly what it was Lovino was talking about. While he might have normally laughed, Antonio found himself blushing too.

Lovino first looked stunned, but then he laughed at the spectacle that no one else had ever seen and kissed him again.

What his dance had been missing was a dance partner. Antonio was no good at solos. Lovino had jumped on top of him, but had landed with his entire body over his entire body. Half of Antonio wondered how this had happened while the other half wondered how this had taken them so long. It was not midnight yet, but maybe it was because of their long string of after midnight forays through streets which were alight with paper lanterns.

"You're so thick- I can't believe you'd just- Dammit, why don't you speed up?- Antonio~!"

"Lovino, mi amor, you have no idea how much I love to hear you complain about nothing."

It was another thing he had not meant to say. It was something Antonio was never going to say, part of his actual self with those actual thoughts, the 'him' he had covered up for whatever reason he had started this charade of himself. It was a truth.

He loved the fact Lovino was difficult.

He loved Lovino. Or was it that he loved difficulty?

Lovino stared at him, as if he was not certain if Antonio was making fun of him or not. Then he smiled one of those smiles that Antonio never got to see as often as he liked. And then he continued to move and moan as if Antonio had not said anything.

Antonio suddenly wondered if Lovino had known this all along and that the Italian really was more conniving then Antonio had given him credit for.

Though the fair had been free of it, Antonio woke up to the sound of rain. The rhythm of the drops against the window reminded him of yesterday. He was by himself, but that much he had expected. What time was it? He did not care. Lovino had let him sleep in. Was Lovino still here?

Getting out of bed, Antonio took a shower and dressed himself before looking to see if Lovino had stayed.

"You're here. Fuck, that means you're going to want my churros, doesn't it?"

Antonio discovered he had not been worried that Lovino would have left.

"Of course~!"

They ate breakfast with the rhythm of the rain, Lovino complaining about everything (nothing) and Antonio speaking as if nothing (absolutely nothing important) was wrong.

"Fiesta de Moros y Cristianos is next week, isn't it?" Lovino asked him.

Antonio could almost hear the ringing of the bells now. "Yes."

Lovino shrugged as if it were not that important and stared out the window. "Like hell I'm going home in this."

Antonio had thought as much and willed the rain to stay.

Just this once.