Chapter 3

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Lovino stormed into the kitchen, slammed the bag of flour down on the bench, and spun around to stare fiercely at Feliciano. Feliciano squeaked, took a step back and clutched the tomatoes to his chest. Lovino could look so scary when he wanted to.

"What is that irritating tune you've been humming all afternoon?" asked Lovino irritably.

Feliciano scratched his head. "Huh? Oh." He'd barely even realised he had been softly singing 'Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart' since they left the tavern. He shrugged. "It's not irritating, it's pretty." He immediately started humming it again as he placed the tomatoes in the large but pitifully empty fruit bowl.

"It's stupid. Stop it. Stop it now."

"But Lovino..." Feliciano whined.

"You need to take things a little more seriously, Feliciano," said Lovino, his tone both condescending and frustrated. "You can't just spend important meetings like that sitting and singing along to the radio. This isn't a game. You need to be serious, like me and Grandpa." Lovino immediately jumped when Grandpa Roma walked into the room behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"What's all this I hear about being serious?" asked Roma, grinning cheerfully as he placed the small bag of oranges on the bench. "Don't listen to your brother, Feliciano, he's far too serious for his own good. And you have a beautiful voice just like your Grandpa!" Lovino opened his mouth indignantly but Roma just raised a hand and said, "Try this one..." before bursting into a loud, roaring rendition of Verdi's 'La Donna è Mobile', his favourite canzone. Feliciano laughed loudly, clapped in delight and joined in while Lovino placed his hands over his ears and grimaced as though in pain.

"La donna è mobile,
Qual piuma al vento,
Muta d'accento - e di pensiero."

"Grandpa, don't be ridiculous!" Lovino backed away from them, looking indignant. "I meant it!"

Feliciano giggled and he and Roma just sang louder while slowly advancing on Lovino.

"Sempre un amabile,
Leggiadro viso,
In pianto o in riso, - è menzognero."

"STOP!" cried Lovino. As he continued to sing, Roma took a cooking pot from the bench and placed it on Lovino's head. He closed in on one side of Lovino as Feliciano closed in on the other, and they both sang as loudly as they could while Lovino seemed to be fuming with anger and trying not to laugh at the same time. "Go away! Stop it! Leave me alone! You're both crazy and I'm leaving this family!"

Feliciano and Roma, still singing, chased Lovino as he ran out of the kitchen into the front living room, where he immediately stopped short and fell silent. Feliciano looked over to find Antonio, their Spanish accomplice and informant, standing in the front doorway and smiling at Lovino in an amused way. Lovino turned bright red, tore the pot from his head, and scowled at the Spaniard. "What are you looking at, bastard?"

"Antonio!" cried Roma in delight, crossing the room and pulling the dark haired man into a warm embrace. "Ah, thank the good Lord! I was hoping to see you soon!"

"Greetings, Roma! It's good to see you!" Antonio looked slightly tired and a little unwashed, but his smile was as wide and genuine as ever. Feliciano liked Antonio. He was cheerful and friendly and always brought him something whenever he visited, which was more and more often these days.

"Antonio! Did you bring me a present? Huh, huh, did you?" asked Feliciano eagerly, rushing over to Antonio and jumping around him excitedly. Antonio laughed and ruffled Feliciano's hair. Lovino just folded his arms and scowled from the kitchen doorway.

"Of course I did, Feli! This time I have..." Antonio paused dramatically before reaching into the large bag slung over his shoulder. Feliciano waited impatiently before Antonio finally pulled out a soccer ball. Feliciano gasped and grabbed the ball from Antonio's hands.

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