31 Day OTP Challenge - SpaMano

Chapter 04: Arguing/Making Up

Chapter 03: Arguing/Making Up

Friday, August 13, 2015

"What the fuck do you mean you don't know?" Lovino asked in a low voice.

"I, uh... Kinda stopped paying attention to where we were about twenty minutes ago," Antonio muttered, digging the toe of his shoe into the ground.

"We've barely been in here for half an hour!"

"Well, it's easy to get lost when you're in good company."

"Good company. Good FUCKING COMPANY?" Lovino picked up a stick from the ground and chucked it at the bastard. "How the FUCK DO YOU STOP PAYING ATTENTION IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING WOODS!"

Antonio dodged the stick narrowly which infuriated Lovino even more. He picked up another and another and another and kept throwing them. He wasn't to stab this bastard. It was getting dark and they were lost in the fucking woods with only a little amount of food. AND THEY WERE ALL FUCKING TOMATOES.

"Lovino, calm down-"

"DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! I'M GOING TO GET EATEN BY A BEAR OR SOME SHIT!"

"Calm down!" Antonio said, grabbing hold of Lovino's wrists.

The Italian glared at him angrily. "Let go of me."

"Are you going to throw more stick at me?"

Lovino debated on lying, but rationality escaped him. "Yes. And quite frankly, you deserve it."

"I know I do, but getting mad at me won't help us get out of here," Antonio said with a calm voice. "Does your phone have reception?"

His phone. Yes. He could call the police or something. Hell, Feliciano would probably get there faster if he told him that he was lost in the woods... He pulled the device from his back pocket and audibly groaned when he saw that there was no service.

"We're in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. There is no service. We only have a few fucking tomatoes to eat. How the FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE?"

Antonio took hold of Lovino's wrists again. "Calm down. It will be okay."

"No, it won't! We don't even know which direction we came in at. If you can't fucking tell it's fucking dark outside you fucking idiotic bastard!"

"Just calm down. We'll use one phone at a time for a flashlight. And if worst comes to worst, we'll wait it out until morning," Antonio said, that irritating calmness still in his voice.

How the fuck could he be so calm when Lovino was not? He sighed audibly and glared at the bastard. "Fine, but if it gets cold, I get the fucking blanket..."

And so they trekked under the light of Lovino's phone. They had agreed to keep Antonio's alive so that they could call Gilbert or Francis if they got reception. Even though the Italian didn't trust the other two members of the Bad Touch Trio, those two were a lot closer than Grandpa and Feliciano were. He was sure, however, that Grandpa would send out an entire squadron of police if he knew his grandson was missing.

They walked for what seemed like forever. They were going in aimless directions, trying to find something familiar to guide them to the edge of the woods. The moon was new. It was too dark to try and follow. They couldn't pinpoint which direction was north or south or east or west. They were literally stuck in the middle of nowhere. They were wandering through the woods. And then it occurred to Lovino.

"Why are we fucking wandering around? We could be going deeper into the woods for all we fucking know," he complained. Antonio turned to look at him. "We should just sit our asses down and wait until fucking morning to start moving again."

The Italian stopped and leaned against a tree, crossing his arms over his chest. He had no intentions of moving. He was tired. His feet were sore. He was covered in mosquito bites. He had no cell-phone reception. He was fucking miserable. To make matter worse, he was in the company of his annoying fucking roommate. Antonio had gotten them into this shit, and all Lovino wanted was to lock himself in his bedroom at this point. He would have much rather gotten lost with Feliciano. No. Scratch that. He would have much rather gotten lost alone. It would be terrifying to get lost alone, but at least he wouldn't have to deal with a terrified Feliciano. Or those fucking dopey grins the Spaniard seemed to give him all the fucking time.

"C'mon, Lovino," Antonio said. His features were tired, too, but Lovino didn't care. Not one bit. "I know you're upset. I am, too, but we can't just give up..."

Lovino let his gaze briefly flicker over to the older male before averting. Antonio didn't just look tired; he looked purely exhausted. With a sigh, Lovino pushed himself off of the tree he was leaning against. They might as well just keep going then. Once again the began to wander. Lovino walked behind the Spanish bastard, tripping over everything in the darkness. He hated the woods. There were so many tree roots that he couldn't see. He didn't have the immediate light of the flashlight to guide him. Antonio did. The bastard. No, he was at the mercy of the fucking forest. Fucking great.

And he was fucking hungry. He didn't want to bother Antonio, though. There was no point. They only had a few tomatoes in the basket after lunch. They needed to make those last. Lovino didn't know where their next meal was going to come from. If these tomatoes were all they were going to have for days... Lovino swallowed.

As if on cue, his stomach let out a loud gurgle. Antonio stopped in front of him quickly, and the Italian slammed into his back.

"What the fuck did you stop for, bastard?" Lovino snapped.

"You're hungry," Antonio replied innocently.

"You don't just stop- I'm what?"

"You're hungry. Lo Siento, Lovi. I wasn't paying attention. That's my fault."

He was apologizing. The bastard was apologizing to him... For not paying attention to his needs? Antonio had no reason to apologize. Lovino's hunger wasn't his problem. He should have been apologizing for getting them lost, but no. He apologized for not paying attention to the Italian. Antonio cared about his well-being, and all Lovino had been doing was giving him shit for every little thing. He frowned slightly and pursed his lips. He didn't even both correcting the bastard on calling him 'Lovi'. He was such a jackass.

"What's wrong?" Antonio asked.

"I'm sorry for being an ass..." Lovino muttered almost inaudibly.

"I can't hear you, Lovino. You're going to have to speak up." There was no sarcasm in the Spaniard's voice. He was genuine. He wasn't trying to make a fool of Lovino. He was so sincere.

"I said I was sorry for being an ass. Don't make it say it again," Lovino snapped, looking away with an irritated expression.

Antonio smiled kindly. "Just sit down and relax for a bit. Let's eat. I know you're hungry, and it will put us both in a better mood to eat a bit."

The Spaniard sat on a fallen long and set the basket down in front of him. He pulled out two tomatoes from the basket and handed one to Lovino. The Italian took it and sat down beside him. He held the fruit between his hands, his amber eyes staring at it in the darkness. Slowly he raised it to his lips and took a bit. It was sweet like a tomato should be. He smiled against the pulp and breathed out an audible sigh. Beside him, Antonio ate his own tomato just as happily.

"These are good..." Lovino muttered.

"I grew them in the back yard. I have a few plants, but they don't produce much," Antonio said, looking over to Lovino.

Lovino caught his gaze briefly and then turned away with a scowl on his face. "I didn't ask for the tomato's whole life story, bastard."

"No, Lovino," Antonio chuckled. "No, you didn't."