At five hours or so, Lovino was awoken by the jingle of keys and pouring rain. Sir—or perhaps Vargas if the world had decided to be so cruel—unlocked the front door and went on their way without closing it again.
He waited in his place for a little while to make sure they weren't coming back.
Lovino counted the time as best he could; deciding that five minutes was long enough.
Keeping the stuffed bear tight to his chest, he shuffled on his knees to the door, being careful not to make too much noise.
He crawled around the corner to push the drawer out. The back door creaked open. Lovino froze.
Foot steps stumbled against the beat of the rain to the front door. A tired thud of wood with the jingle of keys and the steps trailed back to the counter.
"...Young man..." Vargas stumbled to his bar stool behind the desk, audibly exhausted, "Lovino, I mean... are you alright to move that drawer yourself..?"
Lovino heaved a sigh of relief. The crazy man was gone.
Without a response, he pushed at the wood only for Vargas to pull it out regardless.
Lovino continued in silence, chucking the bear out and crawling on after it. Picking it up, he stood up and turned to Vargas only to drop it again at the sight.
Band aids and bruises plagued the man's face. The scar covering his left cheek, ear and neck had been cut up. A finger or two may have been broken along with his nose and his dress shirt was ripped in places.
Vargas looked away, sighing and shifting in discomfort. "It's late... you should be home."
"Screw home." Lovino clenched his fists and growled, "That bastard has to pay! You gotta call the cops or- or something! He can't just come in and destroy your stuff! That's stupid and- and- you're not listening!"
"The police would never believe a devil if he told them an angel shot up his home." He answered simply, closing his eyes,—or rather, eye, as one was black and wouldn't open—listening to the rain. Lovino kept quiet, retrieving his teddy and sitting, leaning against the desk.
It was silent. A quiet silence that gave time to notice the little things. To think about things. Things like the cluster of unnatural divots in the back wall. Things like the hollow desk. Things like the dark patch of Vargas's vibrant, flaming hair and the red trickle along his neck.
He was bleeding. Surely he knew he had missed a spot.
It was apparent Vargas was unaware of the additional head injury as he slouched over the counter.
Lovino warily stood and shuffled forward, shaking his forearm, "you know, you aren't supposed to sleep after a knock to the head." No answer. He tapped Vargas's shoulder, "Don't go to sleep, you idiot!" When he went ignored again, Lovino hurled the teddy at him. It hit his black eye and Vargas jolted awake.
"Terribly sorry." He muttered, staring down at the toy, inspecting the torn thread.
A moment of silence passed before Lovino began to grumble under his breath. Vargas took no notice as he placed the bear down and staggered from the barstool to the back shelf; bringing back with him a needle and gold thread. He fumbled with the eye but soon stopped and placed it back on the counter.
Taking a deep breath or two, he turned to Lovino, "excuse me, Lovino, but could you please thread the needle for me?"
"What? You're doing that now?" He stared up from his lap.
"Well, because I would assume..." Vargas paused, handing the needle and thread down to him. "...You need this done quickly."
"And if I don't?"
"Finishing early never hurts."
"You're so weird." Lovino mumbled, threading it through and handing it back. He thanked him with a short nod and tied off the end, beginning to stitch the arm back to the body.
The two went about their business; Vargas repairing the toy and Lovino looking around. Perhaps it was boredom, but time seemed to slow while watching him. The same action, over and over again with the rain—it could have put him to sleep. He rested his head against the counter with his knees pressed loosely against his chest.
"Would you mind if I asked you something?"
Lovino glared up at him with a drowsy look, "Not if it's a stupid question."
"What do you consider weird?"
"I said no stupid questions, arsehole."
"Ah, you really do have the mouth of a sailor..." Vargas sighed, bringing his attention back to the bear. "You should wait until you're older to swear."
"I can do what I want!" Lovino shouted, rising from his seat. He opened his mouth to shout again but soon stopped himself.
Vargas was shaking.
"Please, don't shout..." He muttered. Lovino looked to the side, moving out from behind the counter to silently explore the store.
There were three shelves: two at either wall and one in the centre; all three holding custom made wooden dolls. Each had its own unique outfit ranging from worn out farmers' attire to ball gowns and tuxedos.
Every detail was there, right down to the buttons on their shirts. It were like he was staring at a stranger on the street or perhaps a sleeping friend. Lovino glanced over to Vargas to ask about his work to find he had finished mending the bear.
"Apologies, Lovino, I don't have stuffing for the bear but not much had been lost so I finished without it."
"Whatever, if you're done I can go." He grumbled, turning to glare at the window.
"Of course, but I need a different shirt. One moment please."
"Why would you need a new shirt?"
"It's rather late and this town is notorious for having high crime rates."
"I can handle myself."
"Is your house on this road?"
"Why should you know?"
"Because if it's not, I cannot let you go alone."
He crossed his arms, huffing as Vargas left for the back room.
In the short time all by his lonesome, Lovino shuffled up to the counter. The bear looked almost good as new. Like it had never been torn.
"Is it to your expectations, Lovino?" Vargas asked, leaning against the door frame as he adjusted the cuffs of the clean dress shirt, sunglasses resting in the collar and an umbrella hooked around his arm.
"It's okay."
"Well, that would do for now, would it not?"
"I suppose.."
"And in the way of charges... If you have a euro in your pocket, I'll take that."
"What if I don't?"
"Then, of course, it's free."
He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants, returning a paper-clip, washed paper and about four euros. Vargas looked on expectantly as he hesitantly handed over the coins. To his surprise however, he received three back.
"Thank you very much." Vargas smiled, pocketing the coin.
"You aren't going to take the rest..?"
"I said: "a euro", not: "whatever is in your pocket"." He flicked the pair of sunglasses on, moving towards the front door, "Now, we must be on our way."
Lovino grumbled under his breath, most probably about not needing them after sundown. The ting of the bell coupled with the newly blaring rain called him to glare over to the entrance where Vargas with the front door wide open, beckoning him with the umbrella. "After you."
Begrudgingly, he lumbered over, taking the umbrella from his hands and opening it just as he exited; Vargas not far behind.
For the most part, the two hurried along with only Lovino's directions to break the silence. There had been no wind to blow the rain about and it ran like a river down the narrow streets.
"Angels used to say that when it rains like this... someone close to the Lord had passed." Vargas chimed absently, letting slip a sigh, "It's still because they are the tears of both loss and joy—making it neutral..."
"Who cares what it means, arsehole? It's still rain and it still sucks."
"Maybe so..." He sighed once more, tracing the edge of the burn scar on his cheek.
