Sorry but this is a short chapter.
I was really iffy about it too...
I stood in front of my manor, hand shaking as it made its way to the brass door knob. I had no idea what to expect on the other side of the door. What misery, annoyance and inconvenience awaited me, I hardly wanted to find out but seeing as I couldn't avoid entering my own home forever, I finally decided to bite the bullet and set foot in the Vargas Household.
Before I had the opportunity to finally leave my house as previously planned, I had to go through a verbal tug-of-war with my brother. Sounding like a child begging his mother to allow him to keep a stray dog, my brother was trying to persuade me into granting Antonio permission to be my personal butler.
It was a stupid and pointless argument that I shamefully regret to inform; I lost. However, the conditions of his stay were in my favour. Antonio had to cook and prepare dinner for my brother and I as a way to win me over. I requested pasta for tonight's main course, the same dish that got me into this mess and the same dish that will get me out. Being very critical of all Italian dishes, there was no way a Spaniard could whip up Bucatini all'Amatriciana to meet my standards.
And so, now I stood before my towering house. I had completed everything I had arranged to do today, such as visiting Elizaveta where I ended up staying as a guest for lunch. Meaning that I haven't been home since I left this morning, entirely unaware of what was going on in my Household during my absence.
Manning up, I firmly grasped the doorknob and decided to quietly sneak into the manor. The door creaked as I slowly peeked through, making sure there were no hidden traps that would lead to my demise.
To my surprise, the interior of my home was just as I had left it. Properly entering the foyer, I could see it wasn't extra sparkly and clean nor was it extra dirty or trashed. It was just as it was left, not that I expected it to be any different. Closing the door behind me, I tuned in on my brother's voice. He was, like usual, rambling on and talking to the servants in the dinning area as he waited for me to arrive.
I grinned. That Antonio guy already screwed up. A real butler would have greeted me at the door, taken my coat from me and walked me to my awaiting sibling. So far, so good. I made my way through the foyer and to the dinning room rather soundlessly, so as not to call attention to myself. I wouldn't want my would-be butler to catch on to his slip-up.
"Lovino, you're finally here~!" I heard my brother coo as I took my respective seat at the table. I glanced around. No butler in sight to fill up my wine glass prior to being served my meal. Nor was anyone coming to take my coat away from me. Three strikes against Antonio already and he hasn't even shown up yet. This was going to be an easy win for me.
"You seem happy Lovino, what's up?" my brother asked.
Was my joy of getting rid of the Spaniard that noticeable?
"Nothing, really," was my response to Feliciano's question.
It seemed like my sibling was going to say something as he opened his mouth, only to close it again when he was interrupted.
"Sorry for the wait~" the Spanish voice crooned as the accompanying body almost burst into the room. A butler is to be subtle, like a shadow behind their master, never calling themselves to the centre of attention. And with that, I had enough reasons to kick out the Spaniard without even trying his attempt at pasta making.
Antonio placed the meal before me and my brother with a charismatic smile on his face. I frowned at his gesture and gave him a cold glare.
"Switch our plates." I ordered once both dishes where set in front of their respective recipient.
"But why?" Antonio asked.
"A butler is to never question the commands or actions of their master. Now, switch our plates." I snapped.
"Lovino, you don't think-"
"Yes, Feliciano, I do. I can't trust this bastard, but seeing as you do for reasons beyond my understanding, you should be fine if we switch meals. Right?"
That shut both him and that would-be butler up. I watched fastidiously as Antonio swapped my plate for Feliciano's. You never know when someone might try to poison you or your food and no one can blame me for being too careful.
"E-enjoy," the Spaniard simpered, stepping away from the table but closer to me. I casted him a sideways glance as I cautiously picked up my eating utensils. Simply by staring at the pasta, I could tell it was overcooked and horribly drowned in tomato sauce. Shifting my gaze to examine my brother; I was assured by his facial expression that he felt the same- the pasta wasn't going to be any good.
I watched as Feliciano eyed the pasta spun around his fork. Hesitantly, he placed the pasta into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. With a nervous smile plastered on his face, Feliciano tried to reassure Antonio that his cooking met standards.
"I-it's unique…" he managed to voice, making Antonio's smile broaden and nervousness lift.
"Ah, thank you very much," he beamed before looking over to me, probably awaiting my critique to his pasta.
Well, fuck that. I had enough reasons to kick him out and my brother's body language confirmed my suspicions about the meal's quality so I'll just skip to the part where I chuck his ass to the street.
"…Is something wrong?" Antonio questioned as I snapped out of my thought bubble and back to the matter at hand. "You haven't touched my 'unique' pasta yet."
I dropped my eating utensils; fed up with everything that had to do with this bastard and his whole 'I wanna be your butler' game.
"Out," I ordered, giving a menacing glare to the man over my shoulder. He simply gave me a confused look whilst keeping his smile glued to his face.
"Lovin-" Feliciano began before I cut him off.
"I'd say 'go pack your bags' but you don't have any, do you? No, of course you don't because you just suddenly decided to show up. Well, just as suddenly, you are going to leave. So good day to you and don't let the door hit you on the way out."
"I can't say I understan-" Antoino started before I cut him off like I did my brother.
"I'm saying you failed. Is that simple enough for your stupid, dense brain to comprehend? Oh, and comprehend means to understand. Do you require any further explanations?"
"Ah," he opened his mouth, but I wasn't done my tangent.
"Good. Well you know where the front door is so please do us all a favour and let yourself out but, only after you clean up this 'meal' you so horribly cooked."
"Lovino, please," my younger sibling begged.
"Honesty, I don't even need to try your pasta to know it's terrible. Hell, I doubt you put any effort into it at all. Your whole 'butler' game was all just a velleity."
I snapped my head to look at Feliciano, who had risen out of his seat upon yelling at me.
"Oh sure, rise to his defence. We both know his attempt at pasta-making was awful," I remarked, as I turned my head to make eye contact with Antonio. His face was tenebrous; almost hurt. What a pathetic bastard. He wanted a chance and he got one. Not my fault he fell fucking flat on his face.
"I'll help you with the clean up," Feliciano offered, tucking his chair in whilst already piling up the dishes. Antonio only nodded as he joined in.
I got up from my place, nose held high in the air without any regret regarding the things I had said. I was tired from running around all day, so I decided to make my way up to my room. I'd prefer not to think about what my brother might be whispering to the Spaniard as I made my way up the spiral stairs.
It was nice knowing you, Antonio, but good riddance.
Have I mentioned I hate cliches?