Lovino used his finger to pull down a blind piece. A pinkish tint covered his cheeks as he held in his smile:

His favorite Spaniard was undressing again.

Antonio was pulling his shirt off over his head when he felt a familiar, strange feeling. He turned around and looked all over his room, as if he'd suddenly see somebody looking at him. He walked to his blind-less window and peered out.

Since he was on the first floor, he didn't have to look down. He knew the students on each side of him were gone, so the strange "I'm being watched" feeling must have been coming from the junior's dormitories.

Antonio frowned. He didn't see any blinds open, or any heads sticking out of the windows. He turned his back again and discarded the feeling.

Lovino peeked through his blinds again; he was seriously starting to think that Antonio would catch him peeping. His breathing evened out when he saw the senior turn his back.

Lovino's eyes couldn't peel away from the tanned skin for their owner's life. He just couldn't look away. It was too beautiful a site.

The Italian sighed and finally blinked his eyes. He sunk down a little and lowered his hand.

Why? he thought. Why do I torture myself like this? It's not like he'll ever notice me... Dammit...

Lovino again drew in a deep breath and walked away to get ready for school.

"Mr. Carreido. Mr. Vargas, please see me after class," the Spanish teacher called out. The whole class went "Oooh" as they left, a few of them patting their "farewells" on the two students' backs.

Lovino stuck his bottom lip out slightly and crossed his arms as he walked to the teacher's desk. Antonio was in the front row so he was already there. Lovino stood on the opposite side of the desk as the Spaniard, not looking at him.

"Mr. Vargas, are you aware of your grade in this class?" the teacher started, looking at Lovino with sorrow-filled brown eyes. Lovino didn't nod or shake his head. The teacher continued. "You have an F, Mr. Vargas. And coming from Italy, you should learn the Spanish language."

Antonio stood there awkwardly, his arms folded behind his back. He was mainly looking at the teacher, so he didn't take note of the glances he was getting from Lovino.

The teacher lectured Lovino for another minute, and turned to Antonio.

"Antonio, you are my by-far best student," she told him. Lovino slunk his shoulders and mocked her by making funny faces. Antonio refrained from letting a giggle loose by biting his inner lip.

"Can you please tutor Mr. Vargas privately?" Lovino's face froze while he was sticking his tongue out and Antonio bit down on his lip so hard he heard a sickening crunch-like sound.

"Ow!" he gasped as he held his lips. He could taste the blood in his mouth, but he set the pain aside anyhow.

"Perdón? Tutor him?" Antonio sputtered. Lovino suddenly snapped out of his shocked state of mind.

"Pri- privately?" he shrieked, stopping halfway due to the squeaking sound in his voice.

The teacher merely nodded. Lovino felt his head start to spin and he had to hold the desk's side for support. Antonio ran his fingers through his hair and swallowed air.

"Bueno, se divierten," the teacher bid as she walked out of the room. (Like another certain someone she's not good at reading the atmosphere.)

This CANNOT be happening! Lovino screamed inside his head as he tried to focus his eyesight on the piece of chalk. Not this! Anything but this!

Antonio was muttering and thinking as many swear words as he could in all the languages he knew. He took one glance over at the blushing Italian and felt like he wanted to faint.
How in the WORLD am I supposed to refrain myself now? DAMN.

Lovino refused to communicate with Antonio. He just stared at his lap and didn't repeat anything the senior was trying to teach him.

"Vargas, listen to me," Antonio pressed as he waved a language book in front of Lovino's face. Lovino didn't move. Antonio groaned loudly just as he heard the kid mutter something.

"Repeat that, por favor?" Antonio asked politely, calming down. He needed to give off calm feelings if he wanted to get through to the thick-skulled Italian.

Lovino mumbled something. Antonio asked him to speak up.

"DON'T CALL ME VARGAS!" Lovino screamed, finally looking up at him. He kept eye contact for about two seconds before snapping his head back down.

Antonio stood in silence for a moment. "Then what do I call you? Lovino? Lovi?"

"Anything but Vargas," Lovino answered sourly. He silently added, "Or 'Lovi'..."

"Querida mio?" the senior asked. Lovino took a moment to *try* to figure out what in meant. He gave up.

"Whatever..." he mumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. Antonio smirked a little.

"'Querida mio'it is, then. Now learn!" With that, he placed (with force) the Spanish book on Lovino's lap, making him yelp.

"NO!"

"SÍ!"

"I SAID 'NO', DAMMIT!" Lovino screamed again, standing up. The book fell to the ground as the junior tried to stand up to the taller student. Antonio still towered over him, by at least a full head. Lovino didn't notice when he pouted his lower lip out.

"Don't pout, cariño," Antonio sighed, laying his hand on Lovino's head. Lovino slapped it off within a second.

"Don't tell me what to do!" he whined, turning away. Now it was Antonio's turn to pout.

Lovino jumped when he felt strong arms wrap around his shoulders.

"Soy tu tutor, que se supone que me escuchan," Antonio told the junior. He gave the shorter student's shoulders a squeeze, only to get a fist on his nose. He stumbled away from the peeved Italian, falling to the floor.

"Vattene via! Stai lontano!" Lovino shouted as he yanked his backpack off Antonio's bed. He stomped towards the door and glared back at the senior, who was holding his bleeding nose.

"Svitare!"