To See

The menu was blurry, but by this time in his life, Lovino didn't need the words. He just ordered a shot of the strongest substance the bartender carried. Of course it burned on the way down and-- hell, it hurt-- but Lovino couldn't bring himself to care as he asked for another. The bartender had raised an eyebrow, and a look of uncertainty had crossed his face. Lovino, after all, was not a large man and didn't look like someone who could hold his alcohol that well, but nonetheless, the bartender hesitantly poured him another shot. After all, the guy just looked dejected and seemed like he needed the strong drink. It didn't stop the grimace on the tender's face as Lovino quickly downed it again. Considering that he didn't ask for another, the bartender went on checking stock and cleaning glasses as the music played through the well-lit bar.

Lovino just sat and stared at the blurry bottles of alcohol behind the bar, enjoying the painful burn still playing in his throat. It brought attention away from the reason he was here, but every time he looked somewhere else and saw the blurry edges of bottles and glasses it was a painful reminder which outweighed the burn in his throat. He might have been foul-mouthed, stubborn, and upset, but he wasn't an idiot. He waved down the bartender for a glass of water. Why hurt anything else of his when he was already losing something so precious to him?

Alone he sat, sipping lightly at his water, staring at nothing in particular. He would've closed his eyes as he delved into a thinking session, but he wanted to take in everything he could before that was no longer an option for him. Figures this would happen to him out of everyone. He had never been the lucky one-- that was reserved for his brother. The little bastard. Lovino couldn't understand it when they were younger, and he didn't really understand it now. It had always been the Plight of Lovino, to be underappreciated and unlucky in comparison to Feliciano (or anyone, really, even that godforsaken Antonio) when it came to life. His little brother was just better at everything. On top of that, he was actually pleasant to hang around and didn't snap at people. He was always happy. Lovino... Lovino had his reputation as being angry and aggressive. In other words-- bitchy. Although, Lovino loved his brother dearly and if it came down to the choice, he would have volunteered to take this burden anyway. Although, this wasn't voluntary and it seemed as if life either made its guess that Lovino would've stepped up or it just wanted to make his life more miserable.
Life's a bastard, either way.

Enveloped in his own world of thought, Lovino didn't hear the door of the bar open and he barely registered someone sitting next to him, let alone the fantastic idea that the sir could have sitten literally anywhere else because there were more than enough seats to put five in between them.

Bastard.

Lovino thought he smelled a familiar scent of some sort of cologne, but thought nothing of it until he heard the man next to him call something out to the bartender. Lovino knew that deep voice and rough accent; it was difficult to forget.

Oh hell no.

Lovino bristled a bit, but refused to acknowledge his presence. With eyebrows furrowed, he raised the glass of water to his lips. He could feel those icy blue eyes stare at him. A clearing of a throat.

No.

"Lovino."

Lovino swallowed and stared down at the wooden bartop. "Macho patata."

The bartender placed a beer bottle in front of the blond man, and all but scurried away as he felt the rising hostility coming from Lovino.

Smart man.

"Lovino, it's just us right now. Ludwig is appreciated." The man said as he lifted the bottle.

Lovino sneered, "Tch. When have I ever called you by your first name?"