He stood there for three seconds. The Junior Spanish teacher with a vanilla cappuccino mug in his hand ceased all voluntary movements. The warm flow of air from the cup was blown away by Antonio's loud gasp.
The door to his office was unlocked.
"¡Qué fuerte!" Antonio exclaimed. He stumbled inside, expecting to see drawers falling off their hinges and chairs flung across the room, but there was no visible destruction and he placed a hand on his rib cage, exhaling hot relief. Maybe he had actually just forgotten to lock the room before he left to get a drink from the teacher's lounge after all, though he swore he remembered locking it up.
The sunken rock at the pit of his stomach urged him to continue looking around, the intuitive restlessness in his gut that told him he had to have locked the door, and that someone really had broken into his office. He couldn't ignore these feelings, nor place them either.
And that was when he discovered the Cuchifritos embezzled. The dish was mostly intact, with some of the plump potato balls missing and crumbs lining the edge of the plate where the thief had consumed their third helping. Although this was no joking matter, with his own school office being robbed and all, he began to chuckle a bit. His shoulders shook and he arched his back as the bubbling came in waves. Of all the things a crook could want, his Cuchifritos!
They could have taken anything in his room, like his gold medals hanging proudly on the walls which he'd won in a few cooking competitions. But no, they were just hungry and couldn't resist a homemade meal like his. Perhaps he needn't tell on the burglar, if they were only wanting a bite to eat then maybe Antonio had done something good. Like charity. The thought made a warmth pool inside of him and he hugged himself lovingly.
A dumb smile on his lips and cheeks, the Spaniard was in no way wary that he may still be in the company of the person who stole off of his plate. He fell back into the hues of a deep tangerine armchair, rolled his neck and shoulders, stretched his legs under the desk and wiggled his toes inside two worn ebony flats. He felt incredibly cozy, and the area where his feet rested was warm.
"This is so snug, I'm glad they started turning on the heaters in the schools now." He eased. It was a pleasant morning for him, even after the whole robbery ordeal, which didn't hinder his ability to see the silver lining of life in the slightest. The tight grip in his hand reminded him that he was holding his mug of coffee, and he tipped the cup back and lavished his tongue with the hot and steamy liquid.
He wiped the brown residue that was left from the rim of the mug off of his upper lip with the back of a tanned hand.
"Sí. Today is that day, eh?"
Yeah, today is that day. Antonio was quite nervous about tutoring Romano Vargas; he was prepared as a teacher, but the man inside of him felt unease. Tense. Distracted.
"When did I become so out of touch with the chaval? Hey, I used to be a kid too! I remember wanting to play outside till the moon outshone the sun, and do street performances with one guitar for Euros before I could work." He said exasperatedly, not concealing the distress in his own voice as he was alone.
He bit the inside of his cheek, then began to stack the sheets distributed on his worktable. Antonio payed no mind to which papers went into which stack, he just needed something to take his mind off of it.
"I could take him to my apartment to study... no wait, my apartment is incredibly dirty. I wouldn't want anyone to see the mess I've made. That might be an inappropriate location anyways..." The image of his living room blanketed in white sheets, the dishes hoarding in the sink. The closet. Oh God, the closet. Antonio's brows merged together and an uncharacteristic frown snuck on his youthful features.
"I've got it!" Antonio sprung up, no longer bearing such a self-conflicting expression, his glass emeralds blinked excitedly. "I'll take us to a delicious restaurante, one where we can dine and study my mother language. You'll love it Roma, I swear!"
He plopped back in his seat, the man in him certain that the tutoring would be an enjoyable experience for the both of them. As enjoyable a time as a teacher and their student could spend together, at least.
"Ay, he really is some work, isn't he? The other teachers did warn me about how problematic he was in class, not doing his work, and apparently he's very clumsy? Pff.." Antonio bursts a bit, cupping his mouth with a hand.
"That's pretty cute..."
"..."
"Que? QUE? What did I just say? Ahaha, I obviously meant that I would find that pretty cute in any of my students. They're kids so of course they'd be clumsy, and kids are cute. Oh God, what am I saying?"
Antonio knew that he was alone, and yet tried to correct himself like he was speaking in front of the public. He knew he was flushed, but it was definitely out of embarrassment for his little slip up. He would try to forget everything that was said in the school office, but the hot blush on his cheeks would not allow him to forget, and so he didn't.
The man in him grew restless again.
A/N
Welp, we already know that he's a Shotacon anyways (or I'm pretty sure the wiki mentioned something about it)
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