The Turn of a Feather

Chapter 3

"I've got an idea!" Antonio burst into Lovino's room, scaring the angel almost off the bed.

"Jesus! Why do you have to go yelling every damn thing you say?" The flustered Italian tried to cover up his surprise with a glare sent in Antonio's direction. The officer tried to stop the grin threatening to blossom onto his face. So cute!!! He's as red as a tomato!

Instead he settled for clearing his throat and lowering his voice to nearly a whisper. "Sorry, Lovi. I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me into town today. You're almost better, so I think you should try to get out and do stuff."

Lovino paled immediately. "Th-the town? But... There are people there. Human people." Antonio raised an eyebrow. "So? I'm a human people. We're not dangerous, Lovi. I'm sure if you gave it a try, you'd love it!"

"If the people in the town are as annoying as you, I'm not sure I want to be near there." The boy grumbled.

"Oh, come on!" Antonio whined. "Please? Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplea--" "ALRIGHT! DAMN IT JUST SHUT UP!"

Lovino covered his ears in an attempt to block out Antonio's incessant pleading and reached over to grab his crutches. They were a bit too small, but when Antonio had come flying into the room one day, presenting his find as though it were the freaking elixir of life, Lovino hadn't had the heart to say no.

N-not that he cared about Antonio's feelings, of course! He just wasn't one to let perfectly good crutches go to waste, damnit.

He got up off the bed, leaning on the crutches and grumbling.

Antonio smiled widely at his victory. "Yay! Come on, then, let's go~!" He dragged the complaining young man out of bed and down the hall, ignoring his protests with practiced ease.

Lovino was determined to complain as much as possible so that maybe Antonio would change his mind and say that they could go back home. Safe, sweet home. It wasn't that he was lazy; all the laying around the house had been giving him quite a bit of cabin fever, actually.

The problem was (not that he would ever admit it) that he was nervous. He had never talked to a human besides the poachers and Antonio. He had always heard stories about the evil humans that would probably kill him on sight, like the stupid jerk-face hunters. However, he'd never heard of any human that laughed and sang and made paella for an injured stranger he'd tripped over in the middle of the damn woods. Lovino wondered if there were two types of human: poacher-type and Antonio-type. Maybe he'd test that theory later.

During the entire ride to town, Lovino faced the window in an attempt to hide his misgivings. His foot tapped restlessly against the floor and he bit his lip.

Antonio glanced over at him. "What is it, mi tomate?" Lovino spun around and growled.

What is with all the shitty nicknames? "I told you to stop calling me that! Why the hell do you insist on calling me a tomato? I'm not a fucking fruit!" Antonio chuckled. "Ah, but you blush just like one. See- just like that." Lovino flushed even redder and faced the window again. He was determined not to say anything else for the entire ride.

Ten achingly long minutes later, Antonio pulled up in the parking lot of a small strip mall. The stores it contained were a bit different from what Lovino had expected. There was a small grocery store, a flower shop, a place that sold guns and other hunting equipment (Lovino made a mental note not to go anywhere near that one), and what looked like a store that sold solely beer.

As Antonio came out of the car, Lovino stalled for a minute, checking to make sure that none of his bandages showed through his clothing and that his sweat shirt wasn't rumpled. He looked up as movement from one of the buildings caught his eye. From the hunting store, a young blonde girl emerged, bouncing on her heels. A ribbon tied in her hair moved with the motion, and her dress fluttered a bit. This girl, he decided, is Antonio-type.