“Gil! What the hell are you doing?!”
“You’ll thank me later, Frau!” he said, the smirk on his face evident in his voice, as he carried me over his shoulder up the stairs in his house. He reached the top and went into a room where Antonio and Francis were waiting. The two were sitting on a footlocker, and I could have sworn I heard muffled obscenities come from it.
“Ready?” the albino asked.
The other two nodded, and positioned themselves to get off and open the footlocker. Gilbert took me closer to it and threw me inside the split second they opened the lid. When I was fully inside, they immediately closed the lid and––judging by the clatter following after––locked it.
“What the hell?!” I groaned out, still trying to process everything that had just happened.
I blinked, then peered through the dark to see a familiar face. My eyes widened. “Lovino?!”
“What the hell are you doing in here, ragazza?!”
“What am I––What do you think?! Those a-holes stuffed me in here!”
“Dammit, what the hell is your problem?!” he shouted to outside the footlocker.
Surprisingly, there wasn’t an answer.
Lovino sighed gruffly. “Dammit. First they stuff me in this damn box, and then to make it worse, they put you in here.”
I frowned. “Well, I’m not exactly having a peachy time either,” I said, resting my chin on his chest. I soon relaxed, and to my surprise, so did Lovino. He even let his hand rest on my shoulder blade. His eyes stared blankly upward at the lid of the footlocker, and his breathing slowed and deepened. I pursed my lips in thought as I watched him. I’d never seen him like this before. It was like he was a completely different person. It was. . .nice.
I smiled softly. “You look nice like that.”
“What?” He looked at me, his face back to its tensed and just plain pissed-off expression.
“You looked nice for a minute there,” I explained. “You kind of looked really. . .relaxed. And I thought it was nice. . .since I never see you like that. . .”
Lovino blinked, and I could feel his face heating up. He squirmed uncomfortably for a moment, unintentionally moving me as well, and then growled, “Those damn bastards need to get us out of this frickin’ box.”
I giggled, flashing him a knowing smile.
He looked at me again. “What the hell are you so happy about?”
I smiled warmly at him. “You. You are no doubt the strangest boy I’ve ever met.”
He blinked, then looked away angrily.
I pulled his chin with my finger so that he was looking at me again, the smile still on my face. “But that’s what I love about you.” I pressed my lips to his for a moment, then pulled away to see his amber eyes as wide as they could go. I giggled in amusement, then looked away in slight embarrassment. “Sorry. Just a spur-of-the-moment kind of thi––”
Now it was my turn to be taken by surprise when Lovino forced his lips on mine. He lifted his hand and placed it on the back of my head, the other hand still on my back. He pushed my head closer, causing me to let out a small squeak. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled away, panting from the lack of air.
“What the hell, bella?!” said Lovino, panting as well.
“Lovino,” I said. “Are you kissing me because you like me, or because you just wanna kiss?”
He rolled his eyes and said curtly, “Neither,” before pulling me back into another kiss.
It took a moment for me to figure out what he meant, but I smiled through the kiss when it came to me. He obviously wasn’t doing it because he just wanted to kiss.
And he didn’t like me.
He loved me.
Yes, that was it. I was sure of it.
I was the first to pull away (again) after a long period of heated kissing. While we both panted and stared at each other, I knocked lightly on the side of the footlocker. “Okay, guys. You can let us out now.” I smirked. “And thanks, Gil.”