Forever My Hero USUK

Chapter 25

Lovino's POV

I watch Alfred carry Arthur away from the God forsaken building in his arms. Everyone trudges away from the building hastily. Somehow, Antonio and I end up being the last ones to leave.

We stalk through the foliage of the forest together in a bubble of silence where the birds don't even chirp. There's a tense and awkward silence that refuses to alleviate me of my stress. Why can't he just brush it off and laugh annoyingly like he always does?

"Lovino," he says seriously, popping the bubble and making me pause in shock, "we need to talk." I feel my breath catch in my throat as panic courses through my veins as if it were blood or oxygen.

He never calls me by my actual name.

I swallow thickly.

"What's up, tomato bastard, everyone else is going to celebrate or some shit." I feel myself shake nervously.

I can't lose him.

He's the one person to actually care about me without favoring someone else. He made me fucking fall for him, and I'll be damned if he's going to leave me now. If he tries to end it, I'll fight for him. I'll always fight for the fucking piece of shit.

His hand grips my arm tightly, and he turns me around to face him. His head is down, and I can't see his eyes.

Something warm and wet drips from his face to my shirt, making me do a double take. Is he crying? Why is he crying!?

"T-Toni?" I ask, uncharacteristically nervous while raising his head, "Why are you crying?"

He looks at me with a heart shattering, tearstained face. "Do you hate me?" he barks out with a small sob, covering his face with his hands.

He thinks I hate him..?

I feel myself grow angry. "So you think that lowly of me?" I growl out, gripping his shirt tightly as he stares up at me in surprise. "Why the fuck would I hate you?" I ask with an angry pout.

He continues to stare at me in shock, and for a minute, I think he won't answer. "I-I kept a secret from you," he whispers it out in a quiet, confused tone.

My anger dissipates almost immediately.

"So did I," I tell him, letting go of his now wrinkled shirt. "I didn't tell you I was a mage, so, we're even." I let a small smirk slip as the Spaniard gapes at me in awe.

"You aren't mad or disgusted!?" He asks, happily shocked.

I roll my eyes at him. "Why would I-" I'm cut off by something I've waited a long time for.

His lips are soft and talented. He's an excellent kisser. His warm hands cup my cheeks lovingly, making the kiss feel so surreal and cliché. My eyes feel heavy, so I let them close and savor the warmth of his body. My hands move of their own accord, but I don't care. One places a fanned out palm against his chest over his heart, and the other makes its way up his shirt, letting the feel of his skin, every bump and curve, be committed to memory. He shivers against me, but I know he isn't cold. I smirk into the kiss, making him smile as well.

My hand moves from his chest to his jaw, cupping it gently. We both pull away panting for air. An inevitable blush grows over my features, so I avoid eye contact.

"Ah, mi tomate is back," he says with a deep and happy chuckle.

"Damn straight," I murmur as he pulls me to his chest in a tight hug, "but don't fucking call me that."

He chuckles deeply at me and nods silently. Hoisting me into the air bridal style, he carries me after the others, despite my embarrassed protests.