Bésame Mucho

Chapter one

Spring, 1939
A village in Italy

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"Lovino!"

Lovino did not turn at the sound of Feliciano running behind and shouting his name. He kept his eyes on the narrow dirt road, his fists clenched and his teeth gritted in irritation. The sun shone brightly overhead and a warm breeze drifted past, carrying the light, subtle scents of spring. Lovino barely noticed. His mind was still running through the events of the morning in the market. Every day, he heard the same things. 'Little Feliciano, I have the very best for you today!'... 'Oh, you didn't tell me you had such a cute brother, Lovino!'... 'Extra tomatoes? For you, Feliciano, absolutely!' Lovino was used to feeling invisible around his little brother. But sometimes it became a bit too much. Sometimes, Lovino wished that something would happen around here: something important, something where he could make a difference rather than living in the shadow of his always cute, always sweet, always noticeable little brother.

"Lovino, wait for me! Lovi... ARGH!"

Lovino spun around at the shriek to find Feliciano sprawled face first on the road. Lovino's stomach fell a little as he ran back and knelt swiftly beside his brother. "Feli, are you all right?"

Feliciano slowly pushed himself to his knees, brushed himself off, and smiled brightly. "You shouldn't walk so fast, Lovino, my legs aren't as long as yours and I can't keep up, and I don't think you always hear me when I call out and then accidents like this happen, but it's okay because I don't think I'm hurt only look, I did scrape my knee, do you think I need to see the doctor?"

Lovino rolled his eyes, holding out a hand to help Feliciano to his feet. "Don't be silly, you'll be fine." Why was he never able to stay upset with his little brother for long? "I'm sorry I was walking so fast." Once on his feet, Feliciano continued to cling to Lovino, swinging their hands between them as they continued down the road. Lovino shook his head in exasperation. Anyone would think his fourteen year old brother was actually a little child. No wonder the villagers at the market always thought he was so damn 'cute.' Lovino was barely a year older and yet he felt like the adult; the sensible, responsible one. But he let Feliciano hold his hand as they walked down the country road, eventually turning onto the narrow lane that lead to their small farmhouse.

"We're home, Grandpa!" Feliciano cried cheerfully as they walked through the front door.

"Welcome home, boys!" Grandpa Roma stood from his chair at the front table. Lovino went still when he noticed the man sitting opposite. Dark haired, shabbily dressed, with an olive complexion and wide, sparkling eyes. The young man flashed them a bright cheerful smile; Lovino eyed him warily.

"Who the hell are you?'

Roma glared at Lovino. "Watch your manners, young man." Lovino folded his arms and glanced sullenly at the ceiling. "This is a friend of mine. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo."

Feliciano looked completely confused. "Antonio... Fernando..."

"You might have to write that one down," said Lovino.

"Call me Antonio." The man stood. Lovino took a step backwards.

Roma smiled proudly as he took a step closer to his grandsons. "Antonio, this is Lovino, my oldest, and little Feliciano."

Antonio held out his hand to Feliciano, who took it in a careful handshake. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Feliciano!" Antonio's Italian was slightly accented.

"Hello! You speak funny."

Antonio laughed. "I am sorry about the accent. I am from Spain, and not used to speaking Italian."