[LOG] The quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Anywhere beyond that is uncharted.
Participants: Lovino and Antonio~
Can people just hop in?: I think not. XD
Where: Lovino's apartment
When: Week 14, Friday night, after their skit at the SH Seminar
What: Dinner! 8D
Summary: Lovino is compelled to live the rest of his life under his kitchen table. Can delicious Spanish cooking remedy this catastrophe? Let's find out!
Lovino had cooled down since earlier today. He'd decided, with a level-head, that he was never showing his face at work again. Too many people would laugh at him or look at him funny for the way he acted.
He pulled his knees up to his chest and sighed. And it wasn't only the skit either! There were lots of things that were on his mind, stupid insignificant things that really shouldn't have bothered him as much as they did. He hugged his legs tighter and leaned against the leg of the kitchen table, which was currently serving as his private fort, the long white tablecloth hiding him away under it.
He recalled times when he was younger, when his dad was angry with him, he'd hide under tables; under beds if he could fit. It just felt safer. These, of course, were times after Feliciano had gone missing.
The Italian had considered popping open the wine his brother had given him as a gift, but after serious mental wars were waged, decided against it. That was a special wine.
I should save that for a happy celebration... not a personal pity party. His frown deepened and he closed his eyes, listening to the silence of his empty apartment.
Can people just hop in?: I think not. XD
Where: Lovino's apartment
When: Week 14, Friday night, after their skit at the SH Seminar
What: Dinner! 8D
Summary: Lovino is compelled to live the rest of his life under his kitchen table. Can delicious Spanish cooking remedy this catastrophe? Let's find out!
Lovino had cooled down since earlier today. He'd decided, with a level-head, that he was never showing his face at work again. Too many people would laugh at him or look at him funny for the way he acted.
He pulled his knees up to his chest and sighed. And it wasn't only the skit either! There were lots of things that were on his mind, stupid insignificant things that really shouldn't have bothered him as much as they did. He hugged his legs tighter and leaned against the leg of the kitchen table, which was currently serving as his private fort, the long white tablecloth hiding him away under it.
He recalled times when he was younger, when his dad was angry with him, he'd hide under tables; under beds if he could fit. It just felt safer. These, of course, were times after Feliciano had gone missing.
The Italian had considered popping open the wine his brother had given him as a gift, but after serious mental wars were waged, decided against it. That was a special wine.
I should save that for a happy celebration... not a personal pity party. His frown deepened and he closed his eyes, listening to the silence of his empty apartment.