Chapter Text
Feliciano is sitting at the dining table enjoying a nice late night mug of Cioccolata calda before bed when his phone begins to ring. He reaches out to grab his phone and flips it screen up so he can see the caller ID. Tomatonio is calling, the screen proudly displays, Tomatonio is calling. He taps the green answer button.
"~Ve! Ciao, Toni!" Feliciano answers his friend's phone call
"Hola Feli!" Antonio greets him, "I need a favour."
"Oh, of course, what can I do ~Ve?" Feliciano asks him, curious as to what he needs.
"Can you bring the car?" Antonio asks, "We need a ride home."
"Cosa sicuro, Amico." He agrees easily, "But why? Wasn't Francis dropping you back?"
"Change of plans, Feli-" Antonio explains, "Francis is wasted and so is Romano, I better get him home before he sets the house on fire."
"~Ve, I undestand." Feliciano nods in understanding, a drunken Romano is not a friendly Romano, "Tell my fratello- Feli's sulla strada!"
"Gracias, Feli, I owe you one."
"More pasta please!" He exclaims, one could never have too much pasta.
"Si! Lots of Pasta for you!" Antonio agrees, "Adios!"
"Ciao!" Feliciano replies before the line cuts.
He pauses a moment to finish his mug and dump it into the sink to wash tomorrow, before rushing upstairs to get changed and find the car keys. Feliciano never really was a fan of driving late at night, or driving in general if he's being honest. He much prefers being driven around like the pretty princess he is, but Romano made him get a license (Something, something, independence). So he pulls on his most comfiest sweater to make up for this late night excursion and pulls the keys out of the little box on the vanity before heading down the hallway.
Feliciano carefully creaks open the door to his baby brother's room and peaks in through the gap. Little Romeo lay there asleep in his crib and his older brother smiled at the peaceful three year old. He tentatively steps into the room and towards the toddler, trying to be a silent as possible. He didn't normally leave him home alone but he didn't want to wake him up and Feliciano would be quick.
"Buonanotte, stai attento." Feliciano kisses his little forehead and lightly slaps a sticky note on his head, so if he were to wake up (unlikely), he'd have something to keep him occupied.
He heads downstairs and locks the house, before getting into the car and typing the address into the GPS three times just in case (he was never the best at directions). Romano made sure he had a copy of the address before he left but Feliciano knew it already, all the parties were at the same house, regardless of who's officially throwing it. All of the art school parties were held in the same big old house that no one seemed to know who owned, but no one had ever appeared to kick them out in the past 15 years, so truly no one cared.
It's a darker and longer ride than Feliciano would have liked but he makes there in one piece. He breathes a sigh of relief as he pulls up to the driveway of the house and the familiar scene of a party comes into view, before he gets out, locks the car and heads inside.
The door is unlocked and he joins the flood of people inside, glancing around for even a glimmer of Romano and Antonio. He bumps into a large mass and just as he opens his mouth to say scusa, perdonami-
"Ludwig?" Feliciano asks, confused as to what his serious friend was doing at an art school party of all places,
"Hello." The tall german greets him, looking down from his stature above "Have you seen Gilbert?" Ahh, so he was here to pick his brother.
"No, Scusa," He apologises, before launching a question of his own "Have you seen Romano and Antonio?"
"No," Ludwig shakes his head politely, "I must be off, the more I worry the longer Gilbert is set loose in here." He heads off somewhere to Feliciano's right and disappears into the crowd.
Feliciano continues searching and eventually somehow finds himself wandering out to a balcony, his quest for his brother and friend proving fruitless. And that's where he first glimpses her.
Illuminated under the glow of the single outdoor light, fixed to the brick wall, is her.
She looks the very picture of temptation, a portrait of lust, a goddess amongst mortals with her intoxicating beauty. Blood red lips pursed and eyes rimmed with thick lines of khol, belladonna black. Her body clothed in torn fishnets and silver chains and sharp pointed boots, balancing the precarious line between showing too much and too little. A cigarette clutched in her hand, held between her index and middle fingers, the plume of smoke trailing off into the night sky from it's blazing tip. Her gaze is turned away from him, and Feliciano wonders what the colour of her eyes must be; a deep sapphire blue, warm hazel brown, star-streaked grey?
She looks like Aphrodite herself; as though she'd take your poor pathetic offering of a heart and crush to a bloody smear on the underside of her heeled boots.
"Ciao, bella!" Feliciano calls out cheerfully, breaking the still quiet of the moment
"Pardon?" A decidedly male voice asked, affronted. Her His gaze fixes on Feliciano and Soggezione, his eyes are the most dazzling green. "I may not speak italian but I certainly know enough to know that I am certainly no 'bella'."
"Ah, scusa- bello." Feliciano appologises, unaware that he had been holding his breath until this moment "I assumed from the hair that-"
"Oh damn you Alfred!" The man curses, reaching a hand up and unceremoniously yanks a blonde wig off his head, dropping it to lay discarded, pitifully on the floor. "I forgot I was wearing the blasted thing."
His hair beneath it is still blonde, but in such a shade it puts the earlier colour of the wig to thorough shame. Feliciano feels a wave of embarrassment for thinking that wig was beautiful when the real thing is absolutely stunning, his natural hair is a far paler blonde and seems to glow like soft sunlight. The man runs a hand through his dishevelled hair, which only makes it worse, yet there's an air of scandalousness about the act that makes no sense at all, and it's even more so irrational that Feliciano can't seem to tear his eyes away from him.
He lifts the cigarette to his lips to take a long, slow drag before exhaling a white-grey stream into the evening air and a wave of envy washes over Feliciano, for what he is not quite sure.
The cigarette? Half burnt, (half dying, really) in it's cheap, temporary glory, yet got to rest between the folds of the slender, rough fingers of him. Carefully brought up to his mouth, to be kissed tenderly by those blood red lips for fear of destruction of it's tiny fragile body, only to be crushed mercilessly underfoot afterwards.
His breath catches in his throat, the blood rushing to his head and all he can truly hear is the clarity of his heart pounding that Thud thud thud in his chest.
"So then, what'd you want out here anyways?" He asks, startling Feliciano out of his fantasies.
"Oh-right- well-I" Felicano stutters out, stumbling over himself in a way that was wholely unfamiliar and entirely alien to him, "Mio fratello, My elder brother Romano. I'm here to pick him up after I got a call from Toni."
His face contorts into a look of sheer disgust at the mention of Antonio, "If he's got anything to do with Antonio- he'll be inside, that man would never choose a chill balcony over the warm indoors. I suggest you check the pantry downstairs."
"Grazie!" Felicano grins brightly, "Thank you for the help-?"
"I don't think my name really matters," The blond smirks, bringing the cigarette back to his red-stained lips "Adios or whatever it is the Italians say as goodbye."
"Ciao." Feliciano corrects, "We say ciao."
"Huh, that's rather amusing isn't it." He chuckles to himself, "Ciao then. Hope you find your brother."
Feliciano gives him a bright, mischevious grin before remarking, "Arrivederci!" and turning to pass through the large french doors once more. The sound of bright, surprised laughter follows him out, and warmth bubbles in his chest like champagne as he relishes in the consequences of his witty little remark, still dazed.
Back inside, he wanders some more, before getting accosted by a drunken Francis and Gilbert, followed by the appearance of Ludwig who screams 'FINALLY' as he grabs the pair and drags them away with a curt nod to Feliciano. He encounters Alfred, the noisy american every has heard of if not known directly and he directs him towards the kitchen. For all the parties Feliciano had been to here, he had seen surprisingly few of the rooms aside from the huge living rooms and halls where the bulk of people gathered, the house truly was that huge.
As it turns out, Alfred's directions were completely wrong, and he finds himself turned about once more until he finally wanders upon the kitchen, tucked away and out of the general passage of the hallways, probably because the rich people who owned this in the past wouldn't want to see the people making their food.
"Stronzo!" An ever familliar voice calls out and Feliciano sighs with relief. Romano! His brother yells at Antonio while the man tries to gently herd him away from the cabinet of sharp knives.
"Feli!" Antonio calls out, waving happily at Feliciano, ushering him in to the kitchen as though he were not trying his best to wrangle a thoroughly wasted Romano mere seconds before.
"~Ve!" He exclaims, following him into a large (and messy) modern kitchen "It's good to see you Toni, I've been searching for you two for aaagggeeesss."
"Sorry!" Antonio appologises, ducking as Romano swings a fist at him.
"Bastardo! Vieni qui e lasciati picchiare, codardo!"
"Romano!" Feliciano tries, "Romano, per favore-"
"LET ME GO!" Romano screams and then in a moment so surreal he proceeds to; slip on a banana peel, fall into a summersault and then land on his back sprawling like a starfish.
There's a moment of complete silence after this cartoonish scene and neither Feliciano or Antonio know how to react. Probably something between laughter and shock. They end up laughing hysterically.
"Oh Dios Mio -" Antonio gasps out clutching his side between laughter. "Wait! Is he waking up!"
Feliciano runs to his side and begins shaking him "Fratello?!!? Fratello!?!?"
Romano rolls overs slowly, annoyed "Urgh, what?"
"You're alive!" Feliciano hugs him, squeezing him as tight as possible
"LET GO YOU!!!" Romano shouts, "I CANNOT BREATHE!!! Lasciami subito, fottuto- FELI!"
"Sorry fratello," Feliciano shuffles backwards away from him sheepishly, "I was worried an-"
"Yes, yes- stai zitto" Romano rolls his eyes, "Now forget what you saw-"
"Did you hit your head so hard you sobered up?" Antonio asks, watching the scene with amusement
"Tell me you brought the car-" This is directed at Feliciano, who nods eagerly. "Good, we're leaving this goddamned place."
So they all head back to the car and pile back in. Antonio takes the driver's seat and Feliciano manages to snag the passenger's, leaving Romano to sit in the back seat alone, sulking and staring daggers at his younger brother's back. It seems the alcohol hadn't completely left his system, because he falls asleep relatively quickly.
They drive in silence as Antonio pulls out of the driveway and out onto the road bar the faint sounds of Romano's soft snoring. Both of them have their eyes on the road, looking out from the windshield, only Feliciano isn't really looking at the nighttime surroundings, he's casting his mind back to the balcony, imagining himself staring at his beauty for the first time.
"Now tell me," Antonio says suddenly, breaking Feliciano from his thoughts before grinning as he glances across at hi,, "Who did you meet? A beautiful young lady?"
"No," Feliciano shakes his head, a smile finding his way onto his lips, unsurprised that Antonio figured it out, his fratello (and everyone else) told him he was far too expressive "No beautiful lady."
"Ah, une hombre then." Antonio smirks smugly.
"Si."
" Tell me about him, who is he?"
"I don't know his name ~Ve, but he's blond, and had green eyes, I found him outside smoking."
There's a long heavy pause, silence filling the car aside from the sound of Romano's soft snores in the backseat, their conversation coming to an unusual lull. Antonio doesn't speak and Feliciano doesn't force him, clearly he's stepped on something.
"Arturo." Antonio says after what feels like an eternity of waiting, a faraway look in his eyes before he fixes his gaze on some point in the distance again, staring out at the darkness through the windshield. "His name is Arthur."