"I will not have a frocio as a son." Grandpa Roma said, looming over Lovino darkly, every ounce of love and affection gone from his eyes. This was it. Lovino was getting disowned.

"I promise Grandpa, please I'll go to church, I won't be gay, send me somewhere! I'll go to a conversion camp, please Grandpa!" he pleaded, holding onto Roma's shirt like a small child, saying anything to get him to soften his gaze. He didn't want his grandfather to hate him, he was all he had left.

"Frocio!" Feliciano's voice echoed through the air from the doorframe. He had never seen his brother look so cold.

"Feli wait-" he began as he started to sob, turning to face his grim brother.

"FROCIO!"

"Please Feli, stop!"

"FROCIO! FROCIO! FROCIO! FROCIO!"

Lovino was on his knees, tears pouring down his cheeks, begging for the onslaught to cease.

Then, he opened his eyes, his cheeks wet as he stared at his ceiling fan. He fought to catch his breath, trying to convince his body that it was all just a dream. His heart was in the flight or fight response. It was currently flight.

He threw off his covers, his sweaty clothes cooling from the fan above, making him shiver. He got out of bed, groaning, trying to shake his hands free from the thought of the dream as he tried to control his breathing.

When there was a knock on his door, he leaped out of his skin with a small yelp.

"Lovino?" a stern but worried voice came through the door, he immediately recognized the voice of his grandfather.

"Ye-Yeah?" Lovino answered so as not to arise suspicion. He wanted to scream at his body that Grandpa Roma was not a threat. He would never say things like that. Right…?

"You have to get to school in ten minutes," he informed. That's why he was at the door, Lovino had slept in having nightmares.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath and started to peel the clothes off his body and frantically change. If he went to school looking messy what would Antonio think?

It doesn't matter what that bastard thinks.

He continued to get ready with not one hair out of place, except one stubborn curl. He wore a crisp pair of jeans with a black shirt that was maybe a little too tight. He then slipped on a watch he got from his father, the only thing he had of the mystery man. All he knew of him was what he was told by his mother at a very young age. It felt silly yet so adult to wear a watch, he thought it would be a nice touch.

Feliciano was yelling by the front door while he rushed down the stairs, grabbing a slice of toast that was left over. While they walked out the door, it hung out of his mouth like straight out of an anime. When he noticed he ripped it from his mouth and began to eat it normally.

He began to fall into thought as they walked in silence until Feliciano started humming and he began to tune that out as well.

He knew he had two classes with Antonio back to back, first and second period. He wasn't too worried about first period because Antonio seemed busy with his friends. For this, he felt grateful to remain unseen and could breathe for about an hour. Still, he could feel the occasional glance and his green eyes burning a hole in the back of his head.

For a couple of minutes, he was able to finally focus on the class and on the lessons, enough to write up notes and work on his homework ahead of time. The bell, however, dashed his daydream, and was rooted in his seat while everyone packed around him. The anxiety filled his veins and the adrenaline that was pumping through his rapidly beating heart. What if he wants to walk together for Spanish, maybe he'll just magically ignore me and go about his damn day.

Luckily, he was able to avoid Antonio until he sat down at his desk. While his guard was temporarily down as he was digging through his backpack, he heard a thump on the desk in front of him. His heart sank and the room was hot.

"Good morning, Lovino," Antonio carried on cheerfully while Lovino was having an internal crisis inside his mind. He breathed as deep as he could without being noticeable and grounded himself.

"What" he deadpanned, able to muster enough courage and look the bastard dead in the eyes.

This, however, was a mistake. Lovino didn't know what he was thinking. He'd seen Jurrasic Park, like a T-Rex maybe if he held still long enough he wouldn't notice him and Antonio-saur would move on.

"What? Is it a bad morning, amigo?" he back peddled, his hands raised in defense. Lovino melted, what an idiot.

"Will you shut up?" he grimaced but Antonio wasn't a fool and saw that the grimace held a smile. Lovino could see the victory on his face and felt his cheeks flush significantly.

Before their awkward conversation could continue, the bell rang and class began. Antonio threw Lovino a sly smile before making his way to his teacher's assistant desk behind the teacher.

"Buenos Dias students!" Their teacher began cheerfully, "Today we will be working on a partner project! And yes, you can pick your partners so choose wisely."

Lovino's heart sunk. It was a replay of the other day and once again Lovino would be picked last. It worked out for him in a way so he only had himself to rely on, he didn't need anyone else.

"Ready?" she began like she was starting a race, "Go!"

There was a mad dash as teenagers were tripping over themselves and over desks to get to their friends. They reminded Lovino of wild animals and he stood in the middle of the stampede.

"Be my partner?" said a voice amongst the chaos. Looking up, his brown eyes met the most beautiful color of green he had ever seen, bright and lush. His heart was doing gymnastics in his chest and before he had time to think he responded.

"Fine. You sit back here. I'm not moving." he told Antonio, turning his head nervously back to his desk, pulling out his notebook. From the corner of his eyes, he spotted a pair of red eyes glaring at him angrily but Lovino brushed it off.

He wasn't sure why he said yes to Antonio. In his head, he justified it so he wouldn't be stuck with the last picks, he could handle the Spaniard for an hour.

From above him, he heard Antonio laugh and pull out a chair next to him quite close. The Italian forced back a small smile and looked back to a doodle on his page. He felt a playful nudge from Antonio's knee and Lovino had to swallow his heart. Against his better judgment, he shoved his knee back, hard. The other laughed again and Lovino cracked a smile. When he looked up, he saw in Antonio's eyes that he knew he had won. His dream from this morning soured his thoughts and clouded his brain. The ghost of a smile wavered and fell off completely, replaced by worry. Additionally, he wanted to throw something hard at the damn albino who wouldn't stop glaring in their direction. Lovino recognized him as one of Antonio's two friends who weren't quite happy about Lovino's presence in their friend's life.

While fear was dictating his actions, he tried to be as nice as he could handle. It could be okay if they were just friends. Nothing sinful about two guys being friends.

Spanish wasn't a challenge to Lovino, Italian is very similar enough and it was obvious Antonio didn't struggle either. For a few blissful moments, Lovino felt normal and calm. His mind wasn't racing, his heart wasn't beating out of his chest and he could breathe. They worked together peacefully beside the occasional glare he would give Antonio to keep up his hard façade. But he couldn't help feeling that someone was staring him down from across the room. He knew it was Gilbert, the white-haired devil that always needed to be the center of attention and if he wasn't, he would cause havoc just for fun. Lovino was convinced he was a narcissist. He was more than a bastard, he was a full-blown dick.

"Your freaky friend keeps glaring," Lovino muttered, getting more annoyed by it as each minute passed.

"Hm?" Antonio asked, turning around to smile and wave at his friend. Lovino watched as Gilbert's smile grew on his face, only to drop it when Antonio turned back around.

"Oh, Gilbert? He's just mad I'm not his partner," He shrugged and continued to work on their worksheet.

"Why? Is he your boyfriend?" Lovino teased, loving turning the tables. Antonio smirked, his curly hair falling into his face slightly.

"No I am interested in someone else," He said and something in Lovino's heart sunk. Why was he upset? Any girl would be starstruck by his charms. Maybe he was jealous, he thought.

"Who?" Lovino asked before thinking clearly, blurting it out. Antonio just smiled,

"You know who, Lovi," He said and Lovino went pale as a ghost. He couldn't mean-

The bell rang and the shuffle of students frantically packing their backpacks began. His jaw was practically on the floor and was completely gobsmacked. Antonio packed his things in his Jansport backpack and gave Lovino's desk two pats and a wink.

"See you at lunch," he called behind him as he ran to meet up with Gilbert, playfully shoving him and walking out the door and out of sight. It wasn't until everyone had left the room and the next class was starting to come in that he was unfrozen. Embarrassed, he shoved everything unceremoniously in his bag and rushed out of the room, his face blazing. He was on the verge of hyperventilating and took a change in course, beelining for the closest bathroom.

He ran into the boy restroom and passed all the smokers on the way in before slamming the bathroom stall door and locking it. The room was still hazy and smelled like cigarettes mixed with urinal cake, Lovino wanted to throw up. His body wanted to expel the anxiety and the shame and flush it away. It was like cancer slowly taking over his body. He kicked the door in frustration, knowing he was alone for the moment and buried his head in his hands. This was too much to handle, he knew little besides the fact he was having an anxiety attack. His nails dug into his scalp and he pressed his palms as hard as he could into his head.

What was wrong with him? He couldn't have a crush on the boy and he wasn't gay. He had given up on the fact that Antonio was however and it excited something in his body, something different and light instead of shame and hate. Antonio was gay and he was not stuck down by God, he walked on clouds like an angel. Maybe it was okay-

He kicked the door hard again with a frustrated grunt as heat weld up in his chest, his eyes burning from unwelcome tears. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! He screamed in his mind as his cheeks dampened. He wanted to go home, he didn't want to see that bastard at lunch. Screw that, I'm changing schools.

"Hey! No smoking!" a loud male voice boomed, making Lovino jump violently. He frantically wiped his face and flushed the toilet for show. He took a deep breath and opened the door with a stone face.

"I wasn't smoking, just shitting," he deadpanned and went to wash his hands while the unfamiliar teacher stared him down unbelievingly. But he had no proof and Lovino knew it.

"You're late to class, go," he said sternly, pointing at the door. He kept his mouth shut and made his way briskly past. He could care less about his art class at the moment. He debated finding another bathroom to have his breakdown in, but he didn't need the school calling his grandfather for truancy.

His friend Kiku looked up from his sketchbook to watch Lovino slam down his backpack on the desk. Lovino didn't have many friends and he wasn't sure if he could even count Kiku as one of them. They only spoke to each other during school hours and they have never hung out outside of school either. So when Kiku asked if he was okay, he lied.

"Got paired with an asshole in Spanish," he muttered, digging all the scrunched-up papers from his usually organized backpack.

…

The closer lunchtime came, the more anxious Lovino became. He was fighting himself whether he would hide somewhere else or stay by his usual tree. In P.E. Lovino shared the class with Gilbert and his friend Francais. He could feel their eyes staring during the whole period and every laugh felt like a jeer at him. He could imagine them pointing and laughing at the little gay boy, drooling everytime their buddy walks by. He was able to avoid any eye contact for the rest of the period until the bell rang.

Once inside the locker room, you had to fight the urge to cover your nose. The smell of sweat, mildew and Axe was nauseating and Lovino had to breathe through his mouth as he made his way through the crowd of teens in various states of undress to get to his locker.

"Hey Lovi!" a high pitched, scratchy voice called from behind him and he immediately recognized the voice. He didn't even turn to face him when he said,

"What do you want?"

"If you would turn and face our awesome faces, we could talk." Ah, he had lackeys, he thought to himself with a sigh.

"I'm busy bastard. Fuck off," Lovino spit before he was pushed against the locker, his skin kissing the metal and bouncing off before he was spun around to meet Gilbert's eyes, his face dangerously close to his. His shoulders were pinned down painfully against the cold metal and Lovino swallowed down his fear. He thought to himself, This is so much easier than talking to Antonio. Lovino was not afraid to defend himself if he had to.

"I said. Fuck. Off," he repeated. He saw fire in Gilbert's red eyes.

"Why don't you fuck off pretty boy? And stay away from Antonio," he warned. Before he could think about his words, they came tumbling out of his mouth.

"How about…" he said, pretending to think it over, "No."

"You cocky son of a bitch! You're going to get what's coming to you." Gilbert growled before slamming Lovino's head back against the locker.

*See google Italian definition for "Froccio", means the F-word slur*