I'll Never Call You Maestro

I'll Never Call This Chapter 16

"Fratello, will you play hide and seek with me? Nonno will join!"

"Agh, fine. But only because I'm bored as hell."

Young Romano found himself beneath the rich protection of the leaves, his body shaped to fit behind its oaken torso. He could hear Feliciano's cinnamon sweet voice call out the descending numbers, reaching zero with a last squeak, and childlike steps plopping on slick grass. With his brother on the move, Romano snickered in hiding, hoping that his grandfather would get to him first before the idiot did.

The night spread over the sky, a thick black web that caught stars in its trap. It provided no comfort for the boy who still waited behind that tree. It had been hours; he was sure of that. By now, Feliciano was probably tuckered out with a warm meal packed in his belly, and Nonno telling him tales of his early days to get him to sleep.

He hugged his own petite frame tightly to himself to keep warm, but the nightly chill could seep into his clothing like a snake through the small openings, leaving trails of coldness throughout the body. In darkness, he let one tear drip onto his chin.

I can't believe how stupid my brother is!

He blamed Feliciano fiercely in his mind, not knowing what kind of actions his teeth and fists might make when he saw him again. He sniffed; It's so lonely. I want them to come find me already, chigi.

But nobody came.

"Uwah!"

The world's light had burst through the corneas of his eyes, revealing a blurry figure cradling their cheek and wincing. Romano felt a tingling on the back of his hand. Oh.

"Shit, I hit you, didn't I?" He mumbled groggily and rubbed his eyes. His head was sore and his body vaguely numb.

"Lovino is apologizing to me? He's still sick! Lay back down, get more rest. The freezer must have done something to his brain." The figure was his brother, who pressed Romano's chest into the couch, much to his wanting. Romano shot upward again and pushed his brother's annoying hands away.

"I'm fine! Don't push me, or touch me for that matter." He sniffed. A cold was coming on.

Without warning him, the sick Romano was immediately tackled into the sofa by his younger brother, who blurred wet streams off his cheeks onto the front of Romano's sweater. The older one shouted at Feliciano, but the taller boy wouldn't budge. Deep laughter sent a zap up Romano's back, and to his shock, who sat beside Feliciano with a dish in his hands, had chocolate-locks and emerald-eyes; his nemesis.

Romano bolted up from the couch, a thick down blanket wrapped him up like a burrito. Snot was dripping from one of his nostrils, and he wiped it with a sleeve. He felt a heaviness in his limbs, and even as his eyes touched with the Earth's of Antonio, he flopped back onto his spine and pulled the covers protectively over his face, squeezing his lids into themselves. His cold was increasingly making him feel dizzy and hot in the face. What the FUUUCK? He's in my living room he's in my living room he's in my-

The mass pressed to him wriggled, arms still wrapped around Romano; the obnoxious tears and blubbering that came from Feliciano could not be more piercing. Suddenly, it hit him with a bat. Antonio was watching this public display of affection, and Romano could not hide the fact that he felt like he was sinking into the deepest pit of embarrassment. These blankets weren't enough to save him, he had to stop Feliciano.

And Romano knew just how to do that.

He rolled in his burrito blanket, and Feliciano's shout of surprise came out as he tordnadoed with him onto the hard wood floor.

Antonio covered his own gaping mouth with a tanned hand, what started as surprise became breezy easy chuckling that tickled Romano's inner belly. Romano scratched the back of his neck, and untangled himself from the mess of blanket and brothers.

"Snack?"

Romano's eyes trailed northward to see Antonio's fingers outstretched, waiting to clasp his. He kept his face turned to the side, taking the hand and allowing it to help him stand. The touch of Antonio's fingers gave him visible shivers. When he looked back, he made sure not to meet his teacher's gaze again, but what he had in his hand made it impossible to look anywhere else.

C-Cuchifritos!

Romano grabbed for one involuntarily, but immediately realized that he had to slow down, else he might just blow his cover. He had to pretend like they had never graced his existence before. Feliciano treated himself with a couple of them, and went off to go pee. Jeez, who eats and goes to the bathroom at the same time, anyways?

He asked, "W-What are these?" but he already knew, God he knew what they were so well.

"Cuchifritos. Try one, I made them myself and they are delicioso." The Spaniard beamed.

"Well, only because I came back from heaven with an empty stomach." Romano took the largest potato ball of them all and stuffed it into his cheeks. Tears could have streamed from his eyes right now.

"You know, I had the same dish stolen from me in my office."

"Pbfff-" Romano almost spat out pieces of flying potato and pork after choking on a third helping. He swallowed dryly, replying with an inconspicuous, "Really?"

"But oddly enough, I never felt mad at them. It was almost like leaving the Cuchifritos there was a kind of fate. Fateful charity, I suppose you could say. Heheh."

Romano's body pulsed in the most odd way, guilt and happiness twirling in the same caldron of his bosom. His eyes sank to his hands, where he held the bits of Antonio's dish. He didn't even try to stop what came out of his mouth then.

"Sometimes, you're such a damn good guy it hurts."

Antonio replied, "Eh?" and cocked his head, not sure whether he heard that right. Did Romano just call him a good person?

"Of course, if the guy was caught by me red-handed, I wouldn't be so sure that I would feel the same then." Antonio's laugh was eerily lighthearted for the dark expression that came about him.

"T-that's really scary, chigi!"

Romano's lips trembled, he wasn't feeling right. The sickness was pushing up words from his heart onto the tip of his tongue. He wanted to say more, what did he want to say? What could he say to this man, this teacher, this person who he felt awkward and nervous and warm whenever they were around?

Riiing! Riiing!

A Spanish jingle ruined the mood, Romano and Antonio both jumped at the vibrating phone in the teacher's pocket. Antonio slipped the phone out of the slot and his face lit up in this way that stars light the night, and Romano felt green inside at whoever was on the other reflection of that caller ID.

"I must take this, um, I'm glad that you're feeling better, Roma. Please rest and care for that cold, and be ready for more Spanish on Monday, Adios!"

"I'm keeping the rest of the fritos, bastard!" Romano hollered at Antonio's back, already out the door.

When Antonio brought the phone to his ear, her sunshine voice was already enough to make his heart melt. Anri, his love, his fiancée was coming home to him in two days.

A/N
I wrote in an Undertale reference. Sue me.
Thanks for sticking with me, guys. I'll admit, I had more fun writing this chapter than I thought I would. That's a good sign.
Remember to vote, comment and follow!