Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia! Please read the A/N, at the very least.

Chapter Eighteen

Lovino had chosen to travel to school alone on the first day back to school. It had meant getting up earlier than usual and suppressing more morning rage than usual – he was not in any sense a morning person – but it was worth it, even though he had spilt milk all over the floor in his bleary state. "No point in crying over spilt milk!" Feliciano told him.

"Ughhhhhhhnnnnnn," he replied. Using the best of his English, clearly.

It was worth it, it was worth it. That's what he repeated inwardly. At least if he left early he wouldn't have to make the awkward journey to school with his brother and the Potato Bastard. He didn't enjoy feeling like the third wheel. Even though Feliciano always insisted that he didn't mind, he still felt like he was cock blocking.

And, y'know, maybe he could sneak in a visit to Antonio. Because he could; not because he had missed him or anything. It would have been silly to miss him, considering they had been in almost constant contact for the last week. Antonio had taken to calling him in the early morning (also known as the afternoon to most) because he was 'cute'. Ass.

But then, screen to screen was not the same as to face to face.

So he missed him.

Whatever.

He cut through the park and every so often turned back to see the footprints he made in the frosty grass. They stood out in pastel green spots, dark against the washed out blades. It almost looked like snow. It didn't matter how old you got, he thought. Nobody ever outgrew the simple joy of making footprints in the frost, snow or sand.

It was half eight when he arrived in through the school gates, a few walking alongside him. They must have been the ones that took the bus to school, since no one within walking distance of the school was ever in before nine.

There weren't many cars in the car park, either. He couldn't spot Antonio's rickety Peugeot. Maybe it had finally fallen to bits. Grumbling to himself, he abandoned his bag outside his registration room and made his way to Antonio's office. He hoped Antonio wasn't one of the asshole teachers that turned up along with all the late pupils and proceeded to scold said late pupils.

Well, Antonio technically wasn't a teacher. And he wasn't the scolding type, as it were. He grimaced as he realised Antonio hadn't even bothered locking the door to his room – he needed to keep his feet on the ground. Didn't he know that anyone could break in and steal his shit? Airheaded dumbass.

The little plant in the corner wasn't so little anymore, now that Antonio had been tending to it properly. It was reaching up as far as it could – he imagined it like a child reaching for its mother or father, begging to be lifted. "Comparing a plant to a fucking kid," he mocked himself. Little buds decorated it. Some had burst open to reveal delicate pink flowers. It was nice.

Antonio's bookshelf was no longer empty, but full of lumbering books on various subjects like child psychology, the human mind and a book that read '1000 Thing to Cook with Tomatoes' along the spine. Strange. Each book looked as though it would take a lifetime to read, combined with their considerable size and general boringness (except for the recipe book). The crappy fake wooden shelves sagged under the weight of the many volumes.

Of course he wasn't going to look at what was in the filing cabinet, but the bottom drawer had been shut haphazardly (Antonio must have been in a rush) and slid open again so the yellow and pink manila folders were visible. That was right; he wasn't the only student Antonio saw. He forgot that, sometimes. But he was Antonio's favourite, wasn't he?

Favourite? What was he – a pair of socks?

He was Antonio's boyfriend. There.

"Mierda, se me olvidó cerrar la puerta…" Lovino turned to see Antonio frowning at the door handle, as though it was its own fault for being unlocked. The frown transformed into a wide smile when he saw who stood in his office. "Lovi!" He shut the door behind him, threw his bag in the general direction of the desk and didn't react when the entire content of sheets and notebooks spilled over the floor. Lovino didn't have time to stop the older man from throwing his arms around him and trapping him in a very enthusiastic hug. "I missed you so much!"

"Get off," he squeaked. But he didn't protest at the small kiss Antonio pressed to his forehead.

"You missed me, too," Antonio commented as he gathered the fallen sheets and placed them on his desk. Feeling like he had to help, Lovino arranged them in a neat pile, which seemed to amuse the older man. "The perfect secretary." He winked and made to pull Lovino towards him, but the boy squirmed away.

"I'm not a secretary, dummy! I just though the pages would look better if they were tidy. They were lying all over the fucking place. How the hell were you going to find your things today if the desk was all messy, huh? I was doing you a favour."

Antonio laughed and nodded his head, allowing Lovino to have his point. "Okay, mi corazón. But if I were to choose any secretary, it would be you. Would you be okay with wearing glasses and a short skirt?"

"The fuck?" Lovino almost roared, not at all pleased with the joke. "I'm not some cross dresser, asshole." He scowled and muttered under his breath, "Just because my mother made me wear a dress when I was younger…"

"What was that last part?" Antonio asked him. But Lovino refused to repeat what he had said, and Antonio let it go. He had only been joking about the glasses and skirt, but now the more he thought about it, the more appealing it was. There really was something wrong with him.

He had missed Lovino a lot since the last time they had met. Even though they talked all the time through texts and early phone calls, having the teen here with him physically was much better. The real, genuine, poke-able article – though Lovino really didn't appreciate it when he poked his cheeks. It was his own fault for being so gosh darn poke-able! And now he could ask him something he had been itching to say all week. "Hey, Lovi? You wanna go somewhere together?"

Lovino stopped rearranging the 'random shit' on Antonio's desk – now, wasn't that much better looking? "It's a school day," he said slowly. He had meant to say 'fuck yeah' or something along those lines, but he wasn't very good at using his words sometimes.

"That's true… But how about Friday?"

Yes, he wanted to go. Getting out of the house would be freaking great. But then he'd have to tell his grandfather that he'd be going out and Roma would want to know why he was going out and where he was going to and then he'd have to make up some crap excuse like, "I'm going to a friend's house," and Roma might suspect something and check and find out it was a lie and he'd ask Feliciano and of course that boy would spill the beans and Roma would find out everything because Lovino told Feliciano every fucking thing and Feliciano couldn't keep a secret in his head for any longer than Tiger Woods could keep it in his pants.

Wow. At least he didn't articulate that; obviously all those years living with Feliciano had rubbed off on him.

Did people still make Tiger Woods jokes?

Antonio's voice shook him out of his troubled reverie. "It's just, you said that you wanted this to be normal. And this is me trying my best to make things as normal as possible. Obviously we can't go anywhere where someone we know might see us, but I passed by a place a while ago and I thought you would really like it. Will you go?"

No way could Lovino ever deny Antonio that, even if he tried. It was embarrassing to know that Antonio had actually put so much thought into a day just for him, but he supposed that was what people for each other when they were… Together. And it was a nice feeling, too. It was also pretty exciting, he thought. "Where are we going?"

The Spaniard tapped the side of his nose and grinned like he knew the greatest secret in the world. "That would be telling! You'll see, Lovi. I want to keep you on your toes."

Lovino found himself divided between being incredibly annoyed at the vague answer and the urge to do something Feliciano-ish to express his eagerness. This was their first proper date, after all. He wondered where they would go. The cinema? But he didn't think there were any good films out at the moment. He hoped it wasn't bowling, either. He was an atrocious bowler. Before his first (and last) attempt at bowling, he thought things like dropping the ball on your foot only happened on TV. As it turned out, it was also very likely to happen in real life. He swore his middle toe wasn't bent like that before he dropped the biggest freaking ball there on it. Why did guys feel like they had to exert their masculinity like that? And why hadn't he seen that coming?

He wasn't going to think about it. That way, he wouldn't start panicking about whether or not he would like it. Anyway, he was sure he would like it – even a dunce like Antonio could plan a first date without any major cock ups. It couldn't be that hard.

Right. It would be fine.

"Idiot. You're supposed to sweep me off my feet, not keep me on my toes!" Of course his pout was feigned, and Antonio knew it because Lovino never really meant to be grumpy; that was what he thought, anyway. But he could get rid of Lovino's bad moods faster than Francis could strip – again, just his opinion.

He could tell Lovino was excited by the way he bit his lip to keep from smiling, which made him smile. The moment he spotted the brochure he had known that it was the perfect place. Although he had never actually been to where he wanted to take them, it looked incredible, like a place where adults like him and introverts like Lovino could follow childish whims and not feel ashamed because, hell, didn't that just look magical. And there was a special exhibition on that he really wanted to see. Maybe the whole idea was a little more for himself than anything, but there was no way anyone could be miserable at a place like that.

"Come here." Not giving the boy a chance, he glomped him. Judging by the gagging sound Lovino made, he hadn't received enough of a warning but Antonio held tight regardless. Lovino's face was so soft, especially when he rubbed their cheeks together like that. He hummed absent-mindedly and pressed light kisses here and there.

"This is weird."

"Smooth as a baby's butt~"

"Pervert." He squirmed out of Antonio's arms and smacked him across of the back of his head. "Don't use that phrase, it sounds like you personally go around feeling the asses of infants."

Antonio was about to make a smartass comment about the only ass he would ever feel was his Lovi's when a loud knock interrupted him. "Anyone here, aru?" They sprang apart and tried their level best to look natural – whatever that looked like. It was hard to remember in their sudden panic.

Natural was Antonio doing an impressive leap over the desk – why go around when you could channel your inner ninja – and piling himself into his seat in his normal boyish fashion and Lovino scolding, "Clumsy idiot!" as he tried to fix the once again scattered sheets, because Antonio had managed to knock them over. Actually, that pretty much was the norm.

"Come on in!" Antonio called, trying to sound as though everything was chill. In his opinion, he did a very good job of acting.

Yao opened the door and seemed surprised to find Lovino on his hands and knees, trying to gather the sheets. Okay, so they got very close to natural. "What are you doing in here at this time?" he frowned.

"He just wanted some quick advice!" Antonio replied very quickly, since Lovino was still scrambling to his feet and straightening out his uniform. "About… Uh, a girl he likes. And, y'know, giving advice is part of my job! So I gave him advice."

"Yeah, he was just helping me pick up the chicks." Sweet, dear Jesus, Lovino hated how much he sounded like a lecherous scut when he said that, but anything to make the head feel awkward. If he felt awkward, then he wouldn't ask any questions; or so went his theory. Yao gave him a very wary look and for a dreaded second he thought it wouldn't work and he would have to fucking wink or something equally as absurd and lewd, but he was incredibly relieved when he was given the jerky nod. Safe. Forever a womanising sleazebag in the head's eyes, but safe.

"Good luck!" Antonio's face began to hurt as he forced a face-splitting grin at Lovino in an effort to signal that he should leave. He probably looked like an escaped mental patient, but the message was received and Lovino darted out the doorway.

"I'm glad to see that he's… Come along." Yao said. The hesitance as he spoke sounded as though he wondered if he had come along in the right direction. Whatever; at least they had pulled it off, for now. The close call was just a little bit terrifying, yet still exciting. Though no matter how exciting it was, he still knew it couldn't happen again. The next time could be the last.

Arthur was genuinely looking forward to the glorious return to the plain brick building. No more moping around the house. No, he was ready to grab life by the balls and make things goes his way. His plan had been perfectly formulated and he was eager to act upon it. One could almost see a skip in his step as he made his way down the greyish-white hallways. Such inspirational colours for gloomy students.

He opened the door to room G2 and sitting right where he always sat in the morning was Alfred. Good. Alfred looked away sheepishly, eyes darting in every direction except towards Arthur. Well, of course the poor boy would feel awkward. Arthur didn't blame him. In the past few days, he had had plenty of time to think back on the kiss and cringed horribly at the actions of his past self.

He ought to have known Alfred would react like that. Hadn't he been friends with him for at least ten years now? That was over half his life. Even during their early years of school together, Alfred had never been able to simply hold a girl's hand for five minutes on a day trip without malfunctioning. Some hero he was; the girls were always terribly offended. Obviously he would freak out over an unexpected kiss – never mind a kiss from a boy, never mind a kiss from his best friend.

But, alas. Past Arthur's mistakes aside, Present Arthur was determined to move onwards and upwards. If all went according to plan (which, of course, it would), Alfred would realise just how he felt. Arthur was sure he had seen it. He was positive he wasn't simply imagining it. It wasn't a trick of the light.

The American hadn't been angry, repulsed – no. Above all things, Arthur had seen it. Confusion. There was doubt. Alfred had been unsure, and all he needed now was a little help to make his mind up from Arthur. What were friends for?

Oh no, he wouldn't be caught grovelling to Mr Jones. The Brit was adamant that he would never fall that low, not if he had any say in it. Some would perhaps say that making Alfred jealous was a petty thing to do, that he had already sunk a level. He didn't think so. It wasn't making him jealous so much as showing him what he was missing. A little teaser; like the trailer of a film or a game.

Alfred nodded with jarred movements like a puppet. His cheeks certainly looked like the blush had been painted on, so garishly red it was. Sweet, he cooed inwardly. That was right; they never had made up, had they? He had been so busy hatching ideas that he had forgotten. "Good morning," he said in his normal jovial tone, hoping to make it clear that he was over it.

It looked as Alfred's jaw would hit the floor. "M-morning?" he stuttered, as if he was unsure of the exact time of day.

"I can't believe Mr Reynolds gave us all that physics homework to do. Bloody hell, I have had it up to here with circuits! Resistors are impossible."

"Oh. If you were having that much trouble… Uh, you could have texted me or something. I guess. Circuits aren't all that hard if you think them through."

He lied, of course. Alfred, that is. Arthur knew him well enough to tell that. There would have been no reply, had Arthur attempted to text him. Under normal circumstances, Alfred would have told him to call rather than text, but he supposed normal was something they'd have to try and remember now. It was strange when normal became a foreign concept.

"No, no. It's about time I learnt to do these things for myself. Even though they'll never be of any use to me."

"Oh. I guess so."

Good going, Arthur thought. Exerting your independence and effectively killing all conversation.

He almost sang out his relief when he saw Lovino walk through the door and slide into his normal seat with a mumbled greeting. That was as much of a 'good morning' he would get from Lovino, not that it surprised him very much. Give that boy the tools to write Shakespeare and he would write My Immortal. "How's Antonio?" he asked him. Why Lovino looked so utterly shocked, he didn't know. Clearly he didn't know that he seemed to have an 'Antonio Expression'. Arthur had seen him wearing it when he had been texting at Kiku's and it was the exact same biting-his-cheeks-and-trying-not-to-smile look that had been on his face precisely four seconds prior.

"How the fuck would I know? Haven't seen anything on the news, so I guess he's still alive."

Antonio was fine, by the sounds of things.

Arthur wished he knew what was going on between the two. He wasn't normally such a nosy person. He could care less about the latest doomed celeb marriage, who was having whose baby, what she said he said they said about her. Maybe it was the abnormality of it. He had heard all the gossip of the day a million times before, but when had he ever heard of a student infatuation with a member of staff that had actually gone anywhere?

He also noted that it was rather important in his grand scheme of things.

Of course he wouldn't be one to intrude.

Hi. It's been a while. Three months. Guys, I'm so sorry. I've been staring at that last sentence for the last few weeks and I just don't know where to go with it anymore. I don't know where this story is going anymore. It's entirely my own fault. At the beginning I never thought this story would surpass ten chapters and I certainly never even dared to think that I would get 157 reviews. I'm so grateful to you all, you are truly awesome and I feel like I've made some great friends through this. But I'm sorry, I don't think I can continue to write this.

I have no idea where the plot is going and I feel like everything I write down is just terrible. I started this over again like three times. This is all down to bad planning on my part, and I apologise profusely. I feel like I'm letting you all down so badly, as well as myself. This was my first fanfiction and it's been so important to me and I can't even finish it.

Please understand. As much as I want to finish this, I've hit a dead end and I don't want to finish it in some shitty fashion. (Like this isn't shitty.) I wish I could at the very least give you a synopsis of what was going to happen, but it's not a case of knowing what to write just not how to write it, I've just lost this.

I don't want to keep on like this anymore. I keep getting ideas for other things to write, but I don't write them because I feel so guilty about this and nothing is getting done and it's not fair on you guys or me. So I do have an idea that I've been holding onto for a while and I'm going to do something about it. I'll plan better this time and I won't let you down like this again. It probably won't be up until June time because I have so much going on at the moment, but I'm really looking forward to writing it.

Once again guys, I'm really sorry for this. Thank you for sticking with this as long as you have and thank you for putting up with my shit.