Lovino paced up and down the doctor's office. Had he known he was to wait that long, he would have brought something to keep him entertained. Like a book. Or a Spaniard. Whatever.
He sighed deeply. He just knew that going to the doctor's had been a bad idea.
Well... not really bad. After all, he had been feeling a little out of whack as of late... Now, Lovino was no whiny wuss, and he could live with getting stomach and backaches every now and then. He could stand the fact that he was feeling somewhat weaker, and that sometimes he would faint if he so much as skipped a meal. He could stand losing some weight, too. But when Antonio had brought home a basket of fresh, red, ripe, delicious looking tomatoes and he didn't feel like eating any of them, he just knew that something was wrong with him. So, he had swallowed his pride and called a doctor. A good one. Because seriously, not eating tomatoes was more than just a bit unsettling. But since he wasn't a sissy little girl, he restrained himself from telling Antonio or Feliciana, and had decided to see to this on his own. Had he told Antonio, he would have started treating him as if he were on his deathbed, and Feliciana... well, she was Feliciana. So yeah. No choice but to see this to the end alone.
That was why he was practically boring a hole in the carpet outside the doctor's office. The guy had Lovino go through all kinds of tests, and every time he got a new result he would just have Lovino undergo a new batch of tests, and in the end, Lovino had started getting nervous. Just what could be so wrong with him? Dammit...
"Mr Vargas? The doctor's ready to see you."
Lovino found himself in front of his house, without remembering how he got there. He had been in kind of a daze after hearing what the doctor told him, and now there he was, fumbling with a damned key that just wouldn't open his door. And he was growing very frustrated with it.
"God damn fucking key! Just work already, will you! Don't make me smash you!" he yelled, his voice broken and full of unshed tears. Damn, damn, damn that key to hell and back! Why was nothing in his fucking life working the way it should today? FUCK!
"Lovi? Why are you threatening a key?"
Lovino jumped out of his skin and turned on his heel as if he had been caught with his pants down. And there, in all his oblivious glory, stood Antonio, his lo-lov... flatmate. Antonio was his flatmate. Nothing more!
But back to the matter at hand. Lovino was in a sorry state and in no condition to have a civil conversation (not like he usually had one, but yeah...). So he reacted defensively.
"Uhm... I... it's just... this goddamn key won't open the goddamn door, that's it!"
Antonio gave one of his usual beaming smiles and said "Well, Lovi, I doubt that the car keys will open the front door, no matter how much you threaten them..."
Lovino looked down at his hand. And there, indeed, were the keys to his Fiat Panda. He felt his face burn in shame, and the feeling of being very near to just start bawling right there and then became stronger. But Antonio was watching. And Antonio would know that his tears were not over something as trivial as a car key. So he just turned around, blushed for all he was worth and said in a lethal hiss "Don't say anything and wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, you tomato bastard."
Antonio gave an heartfelt laugh and got his own keys, ruffling Lovino's hair and commenting on just how cute he looked when his face got tomato-red.
Lovino just reacted with a headbutt, and once the door was open, he threw his messenger bag on the floor and himself on the couch. He covered his face with an arm, trying to shut the light from his vision.
What a day. He wished he could just go back in time and erase it from his memory. He wished he had never gone to the doctor.
Antonio noticed that something was not really right with Lovi, so he took a seat at his side and gave him a kiss on the hair. "Lovi? Bad day at work?"
Lovino grunted. He so wished he had a bad day at work. Actually, he would have killed to switch today with the worst day possible at work. But Antonio didn't have to know. Or better yet, Lovino was not going to be able to tell him the truth. Maybe another day. But not now. So he kept his eyes covered (he could not lie to Antonio if he looked at him in the eyes) and lied.
"Yeah, goddamn clients and their stupid requests. A chef as cool as me shouldn't have to deal with those bastards."
Antonio nodded. He knew how Lovino had a short temper, but he also knew that he was the best chef in town. And that handling negative feedback was not exactly his cup of tea.
"I'm sorry, Lovi. But the day is over now, right? So smile a bit for me, will you? Pleeeeease?" he said, his own goofy grin in place, hand outstretched in a loving caress on the grumpy Italian's shoulder.
Lovino lowered his arm from his eyes to sneak a peek at the grinning Spaniard. God. Oh God. What was he supposed to do? He honestly had no idea. He really didn't.
Suddenly, Lovino felt like he couldn't breath anymore. He so desperately wanted to cry his eyes out, but not in front of Antonio. He needed a place where he could be alone. He needed to go outside, or he would have exploded. So he got up suddenly, making Antonio jump a bit in surprise.
"Eggs." he said, a stern expression on his face.
Antonio looked at him as if he had sprouted an extra head. "...eggs, Lovi?"
"Yes. Eggs. We have no eggs. I'm going to buy some. Because I like them. Yeah."
Antonio didn't let go of his stunned face as he slowly said "...uhm, Lovi... you never really liked eggs, you know. You're actually allergic to them."
Lovino blushed and started fidgeting. "Yeah, but I... I... I really want eggs. Like, now. So I'm off to buy them. See you, tomato bastard." And with that he was out of the door, leaving a very confused Spaniard in his wake.
First chapter. Woohoo you guys, it's been ages since I wrote fanfiction and actually enjoyed it. This one is already over, and I swear, the ending to Tangled will come in a matter of days.
But yeah. Enjoy this one, I guess.