The Flower Boy and the Tattoo Artist

Chapter 5

Lovino stood up in an instant, "Fucking hell, I left the shop open with the lights on!" He panicked, patting his pockets, feeling for his keys.

He stood. "No worries, I turned off the lights. I doubt anyone will break in," assured Antonio, walking over to the kitchen counter to retrieve Lovino's keys.

Lovino exhaled a sigh of relief, "I love you so much right now," He said in the moment, not noticing Antonio's walk to the kitchen. He continued patting his pants and digging in the pockets, even patting his chest for good measure, "Dammit, where are those freaking keys."

Antonio strode into the room, a smug smirk on his face. The keys hung from his finger, which he kept chest-level. "Well, you're going to love me even more~" he teased, jingling them.

Lovino took the keys, "Thanks, Antonio," He mumbled as he put his keys in his pocket, "I owe you."

"No such thing," he brushed it of with a shake of his head. "Hopefully Gilbert hasn't destroyed the place too bad," mumbled Antonio, walking to the door.

Lovino also walked to the door, turning of the lights as he did so, "I guess we're walking back together? Since we have to go in that direction anyway." He looked at Antonio.

Letting out a small laugh, Antonio nodded. "Sí," he said, and opened the door for Lovino.

Lovino walked out and waited for Antonio to walk out as well.

The brunette locked the door and followed Lovino, arms swinging as he took long strides out of the building.

Lovino mumbled, "I wonder if she is there already. I feel so bad."

He looked over briefly at Lovino. "Hm? Who?" asked Antonio, a brow raised.

"Oh, remember the old sweet lady that used to run the flower shop?" Lovino said as they both began walking, "Well, she's really sick, so her granddaughter decided to run the shop. But she works in the mornings so she hired me to run the shop in the mornings and she runs it in the afternoon."

"Ah," replied Antonio, nodding. "I hope she'll be alright. She was very friendly. Always had something for my lunch when I came in the morning--like she was my mother." he said wistfully, a smile on his face.