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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Jul 28, 2010 19:33:09 GMT -5
Bachelor life in the military entails several things: 1. live on base. 2. eat on base. 3. attempt to become attached to someone who would make you not-a-bachelor
Ludwig followed these with varying degrees of success. The military lifestyle was satisfying to him, organized and productive, and unlike some he did not often or easily grow bored of the same surroundings. He did however, tire of the same food, and occasionally experimented with cakes and pastries and cookies in his own on-base apartment ( the privileges of rank!) This usually required an excursion to the open air markets to hunt down spices, dried fruits and union chocolate, whatever he felt the recipes were lacking.
He enjoyed the market, despite the occasional whiff of day old fish or excessively forward vendor, and he liked looking into the windows of the shops ringing the open square. The plethora of noise and color and smell reminded him of the winterfaire markets back in Germania, before he had enrolled in the airforce education system and moved permanently away.
A particular vendor caught his eye, and he stopped to look over their basket of dried fruits from the Indias, fascinated by the array of colors and scents.
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Jul 28, 2010 19:49:53 GMT -5
Feliciano was late. Very late. The thing of it was that it didn't actually matter if he opened his shop on time. He had no regular customers, he barely even had anyone stop in and rarely made a sale as it was. But for some reason, he had always tried his hardest to open on time. He had yet to actually succeed, but he tried all the same. And really, who could say no to a few more hours of sleep after waking up at mid-morning and eating a good healthy breakfast of pasta?
But so it was that the Italian found himself in a huge rush to get to his shop. Not for any reason other than he wanted to get there as soon as he could because he wanted to prove to himself that he was responsible enough to take care of it without any help.
Of course, being in a rush does lead to certain complications.
One of them being not watching where you're going.
Another being crashing head-long into someone because you weren't watching where you were going because that cute girl was saying hello to you...
And, unfortunately, Feliciano had this exact encounter.
Also unfortunately, the person he managed to crash head-long into was very well-built. And while the Italian appreciated muscle and a nice body, it was also a hard landing and bounced the smaller man backward and onto his bottom with a loud "oomph!" sound as the air was knocked out of his lungs.
Ass throbbing and trying to catch his breath, Feliciano looked up and found himself staring at one of the sternest looking men he had ever had the misfortune to meet. Eyes widening a fraction of an inch, the Italian just stared, unable to find even the words of apology he had been about to blurt out...
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Jul 28, 2010 20:13:51 GMT -5
Ludwig let out an 'oof" as he was knocked into, stumbling a bit and whacking his leg into the vendor's display table. He straightened and rubbed his leg, checking that his basket of previous purchases was undamaged before apologizing to the merchant and turning to his assailant.
He frowned, staring back bemusedly at the thin man on the ground in front of him. He looked somehow familiar, like a word at the tip of the tongue or a melody you haven't heard in a long time. Ludwig filed it away for further study and bent to offer a hand to frazzled younger man.
"Are you alright there? It's dangerous to go at such speed in this area."
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Jul 28, 2010 20:59:53 GMT -5
It took a few moments for Feliciano to register that the man had just talked to him. Not yelled at him, berated him, or anything like that. He had just spoken to him. The initial reaction to flinch away stopped midway through execution, and so the Italian just wound up looking silly as he almost flinched and then looked surprised.
But the moment the initial shock wore off, Feliciano was back to being his old self in a heartbeat.
"Ve~! I know! I was just really late for work." Beaming bright, the smaller man got to his feet and brushed himself off a little. His butt hurt, but he supposed it would stop by the time he got to his shop. "Mi dispiace," he continued amiably. "I'm sorry for running into you."
Now that he wasn't terrified of being reprimanded, the younger man was looking closely at the larger one. At a second glance, he looked vaguely familiar, but then there were a lot of blond-haired, blue-eyed, absolutely gorgeous men running around, weren't there?
"Let me make it up to you!" he once more continued in that bright tone of voice he was so well-known for. "Come to my shop. Let me draw you, no charge." It seemed like an innocent enough suggestion, but really he was suggesting it for selfish reasons.
Feliciano liked to immortalize things that he found beautiful. And while there were more pleasing faces in the world, for some reason this man struck him as something gorgeous - something he couldn't let go. And he wanted to draw him so that he would have that image of him forever...
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Jul 30, 2010 9:44:09 GMT -5
Ludwig paused, taken aback. At first he'd been afraid the younger man really had injured himself from the way he winced back, but then words began tumbling out of the other man's mouth a mile a minute.
He wanted to... draw him? If the brunette felt he needed to make up for their...physical encounter past his already granted simple apology, surely a token like buying him coffee or something would do. But he said he was in a hurry, so perhaps this was the next best thing?
Perhaps he was thinking too much. Gilbert had often accused him of doing so.
And certainly no one had ever wanted to make art of him before... that he could remember. He cleared his throat. "Er.. There is really no need, but if you feel it's necessary..." He shifted his basket more securely on his arm, mentally cataloging it. None of the ingredients would perish if he did not get them home and used, and he still had another 45 minutes allotted for shopping and travel time.
If he was completely honest the way the man was looking at him, sincerely waiting for a reply with head cocked and hair fluttering in the afternoon breeze, tugged on something in him. He couldn't quite bring himself to say no.
"Let us see your shop then."
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Jul 31, 2010 16:29:44 GMT -5
Relief flooded through Feliciano for reasons that he couldn't completely explain. For a few moments, he'd been afraid that the man wouldn't let him draw him. And that would have the Worst Thing In The World (tm). But he had agreed, and Feliciano was perfectly ecstatic.
"Alright!" he exclaimed excitedly and then, reaching out, he grabbed the large man's hand and began to tug him towards Amore e Vita, where all of his art supplies resided.
It didn't seem strange to him to be holding the hand of a stranger. Feliciano had been raised in a very ... OPEN way and he didn't have a problem with touching people, even if he had only known them for a few moments.
When they reached the shop, Feliciano let go of the man to find his key and let them in. No sooner were they inside than Feliciano was running through the shop, gathering up supplies. "Sit anywhere you want," he called happily. "It won't take me long to sketch you." He paused halfway through finding his supplies and tilted his head at the man. "I'm Fe--" He stopped himself. It wasn't a good idea to give out his real name, was it? "Italy! I'm Italy." He smiled brightly. "Nice to meet you!"
With that, he returned to finding his sketchbook.
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Aug 1, 2010 12:38:54 GMT -5
Ludwig started as a warm hand slipped into his and began to tug him away from the stall. Was everything this man did unnecessary? He was perfectly capable of following on his own, even if the wiry artist was moving... rather fast, and weaving in and out of the crowd like a professional thief, and maybe it was okay that he was being dragged along in such a way. The shorter man had seemed awfully enthusiastic that Ludwig had accepted his offer, and it would be a shame to disappoint that.
the shop, when they encountered it, was somehow everything like and nothing like he was expecting, lively and cluttered and colorful. He paused in the doorway, taking in the paintings and displays of bright clothing, haphazardly scattered around the showroom. It felt very welcoming, despite his fingers itching to organize the contents by size, color, subject- The artist telling him to find a place to sit was a welcome distraction, and he found a place on a plush chair he assumed was for clients, next to a painting of a small boy near a river.
It reminded him of something some artists out of Parisii were doing, hazy and colorful and emotive like a memory.
Ludwig nodded as the man paused in his quick rummaging to introduce himself. He at least had the propriety to introduce himself by his professional name. " Captain Germany of the IHA Berliner, at your service." He gave a stiff nod. "It is good to make your acquaintance as well."
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Aug 1, 2010 12:49:32 GMT -5
"Germany..." The Italian repeated the name to himself, smiling softly as he did so. Really, he hated the fact that they all used these "professional" names, but it came in handy when he was trying to hide who he really was. But right now, he was happy just to have a name to put to the face that called to him so loudly.
With a sound of triumph, Feliciano found his sketchbook and ran back over to Germany, sitting down on the ground in front of him. Eagerly, he stared up at the man on the chair before him, pencil in hand, and a look of deep thought on his face.
The problem was, how best to capture this? "Ve... tilt your head down a little, Germany. I need to see your eyes."
After staring for a few more long moments, Feliciano suddenly brightened and then leaned over his sketchbook, hand flying across the page as he began a rough sketch of the man before him. Every once in a while, Feliciano looked up to get a closer look at Germany's face, but mostly he kept his head bent.
"So you're part of the military?" he asked, almost casually, as he drew. "Do you like it there?" Feliciano always found it easier to draw a person if he was talking to them, because then he could get their personality into the picture.
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Aug 2, 2010 19:51:01 GMT -5
Ludwig tried not to jump as the artist dropped to the floor in front of him with his supplies. He hadn't been expecting that, and the angle was... oddly intimate, especially once the younger man asked him to see more of his eyes. He resisted the urge to shift and fidget in his chair as he was scrutinized and sketched. He was not often the focus of such, well, focused attention and meeting the artist's liquid amber-brown eyes from time to time as he was drawn tugged more at whatever vague, too-restrained feeling inside him had lead him to agree to this in the first place.
He fell into a contemplation of the painting he'd sat by, rather than read too much into the artist's gaze.
Oh, he was being addressed. Didn't artists usually prefer their models to stay still, so as not to mess up the composition? "Ah. Yes. It is satisfying." Food, clothing, comrades and a purpose in life. It may not have been the most exciting or lucrative of the career paths open to him, but he enjoyed it in his way. "I suppose you could say I like it, ja." He fell silent again, out of words, and glanced at the image forming under the artist's - no, they'd been properly introduced now and the man didn't seem the type to let go of even the lightest acquaintances - Italy's slender hands.
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Aug 2, 2010 21:32:40 GMT -5
Honestly, Feliciano wasn't even looking at the German in front of him anymore. His eyes were focused downward, completely on the sketch that was shaping up nicely under his hand. He had a mind for faces and scenery and - well, practically anything that you could draw a picture of. And he didn't need to look for very long in order to be able to sketch the man to his liking. Besides, it never did well to dwell on what was on the surface and forget to capture what was on the inside as well.
"That's wonderful!" he responded cheerily to Germany's answer. "It's always good to do something you like. That's why I draw!" The rough outline had been made by this point and Feliciano was busy filling in the more minute details of the sketch in an attempt to finish it up. "What else do you like to do?"
As he waited for a response, he peered up into the man's eyes again. But he couldn't quite seem to get them right. He kept looking down, sketching them, and then erasing them frantically before looking up and repeating the process again.
Finally, a tiny bit exasperated, the Italian looked up and spoke, effectively cutting off anything the German might be saying. "Ve... could you tell me your name again? And... and look in my eyes when you do it." A name was a key to a person's soul, and Feliciano intended to see Germany's soul through his eyes and capture it on the page.
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Aug 2, 2010 23:25:22 GMT -5
Ludwig began to find Italy's enthusiasm a bit endearing- few people had ever said his job in the military was 'wonderful' and meant it...his hobbies now? He didn't suppose the little bohemian in front of him would be terribly interested in marksmanship or psycho-analytics or the merits of an early-morning exercise routine. "...I enjoy baking. And a good book." The artist on the floor seemed to become more and more frustrated as he worked and reworked the drawing, and Ludwig's eyebrows furrowed a tiny bit in concern. "Is something wrong-"
He found himself cut off by Italy's next request, and taken aback slightly. It was uncomfortable, looking directly into his eyes. He couldn't seem to keep the level of polite reserve he maintained with most people in front of this quick, active, strange young man. He wanted to check his watch, confirm that he'd only been there, made the acquaintance of this man, for a short amount of time. But that would be looking away and the man had requested eye contact. "My name is Ger..." He began, then trailed off. Such an honest gaze was searching for a deeper answer than a convenient military call-sign. "Ludwig. My name is Ludwig." Such a simple admission should not make him blush, a light dusting of pink across pale cheeks, but he could feel his face and the tips of his ears begin to warm.
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Aug 2, 2010 23:35:48 GMT -5
Feliciano had been expecting to hear that same name again and was more than a little surprised when Germany - no, Ludwig! - looked into his eyes and said his real name. A flood of emotion enveloped the Italian for a brief moment as he looked into the larger man's eyes, going breathless for a split second. And the name... he knew the name, it was a beautiful name, but still he couldn't quite place it. Like something he had heard in a dream and forgotten about upon waking.
In just a few moments, the feeling had mostly passed and Feliciano suddenly let out a gasped breath, smiled so wide it nearly split his face, and then bent over the picture again. Now it flowed even more freely than before, the eyes fitting just right as Feliciano added a hint of blush to the cheeks of the sketch as well.
"Grazie," he said after a moment, pausing in his sketch again, though it seemed to be nearly finished now after his sudden burst of inspiration. "For telling me your name." For some reason, he felt privileged and excited to know this man's name.
He shifted awkwardly for a moment. But one good turn deserved another, he knew, and so he shook his head and then looked up, smiling, his eyes closing as he did so. "Mine's Feliciano." Somehow, he felt as if a weight had been lifted off of him, just by saying his name to this complete stranger...
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Aug 3, 2010 0:14:04 GMT -5
Ludwig swore he felt his heart stop, just for the tiniest of seconds, as Italy gave him a pleased, blinding smile. This went beyond the man's simple and cheerful enthusiasm for anything and everything, and teased at Ludwig like facts that one is supposed to have memorized but cannot grasp on test day. He wondered if he had just accidentally passed some sort of test himself and studied Italy's delicate features as the man blitzed easily through the rest of his drawing. He could feel the irrational blush growing, and willed it away.
"Y...You're welcome." Ludwig almost felt deprived as Italy's eyes lost their focused alertness and drooped to a lazy but pleased half-closed. The traitor blush returned and strengthened as Italy gifted him with his own personal name in kind. "Feliciano" tripped off the tongue pleasingly and reminded him of summer and warm air and the smell of springwater, and he didn't realize he'd repeated it out loud, wondering and caressing the syllables.
He cleared his throat, and shifted in the chair, waiting for and not quite wanting the drawing to be declared complete. "...It's a nice name. Were you named after the Imperial family?"
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Aug 3, 2010 19:58:51 GMT -5
Feliciano's smile lost its brilliance the moment Ludwig mentioned the Imperial family. His eyes shifted downward to the sketch on his lap and he moved his pencil to draw a last, small line into the picture before raising it up to study it more closely.
"Grazie," he responded in a much more subdued tone. He thought about lying about his name for a few moments, but really he had never liked lying very much. So he decided to simply go without telling the whole truth. "Si. You could say that I was."
A small sigh escaped him before he smiled slightly again and turned the picture around, holding it towards Ludwig to show him the finished product. "Do you like it?" he asked, tone heading towards a brighter level again. "I could paint it if you want... but you'd have to come back to get it later, painting takes a lot longer than sketching for me."
He paused, and then tilted his head slightly to one side, eyes closing as he smiled again. "Ve~ I wouldn't mind seeing you again, Ludwig."
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Aug 3, 2010 21:16:06 GMT -5
Oh. He'd said something wrong, apparently- perhaps he was asked that a lot and Ludwig had just shown himself to be horribly unoriginal. He frowned slightly, wanting the smile to come back.
Though it was a very good likeness, Ludwig found himself not caring so much about the drawing as the look on the face of the young man holding it up for his inspection. " Ja, I like it. It is very good." He reached forward to take it, then withdrew his hand as Feliciano - what was it about that name that made him feel so... anxious-happy-nostalgic- continued. The idea of finishing the work seemed to make the artist happier, and Ludwig felt himself drowning in the idea of a happy Feliciano.
"I think it would be extraordinary painted...If you have the time to do so, that is." The piece was supposed to be an apology for bumping into him so recklessy, nothing more. Painting it would add another level of skill and investment, and Ludwig would be obligated to do something in return...
The artist wanted to see him again, and Oh, the smile was back. Not near as big this time, but any smile was good, and drowned out the insistent voice in the back of his head that his schedule would not be recoverable if he lingered much longer. He retreated into formality again, stiff in the chair and he was sure his ears were flaming red by this point. "I would enjoy meeting you again as well, Feliciano." Again, his heart tried to lift out of his chest at the name in a completely undignified and irrational way. "Perhaps... When do you think you can finish it?"
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Aug 5, 2010 22:06:00 GMT -5
It took a few moments for Feliciano to really realize that Ludwig had agreed to let him finish the piece. His face brightened considerably and he hugged the sketch close to his chest - much like a young child would hold a doll that they had loved for as long as they could remember. "I'm so glad!" he exclaimed excitedly.
Within seconds, the Italian was on his feet and rushing around the store, trying to find his paints because he couldn't remember where he'd put them. "I'll need references! So as soon as I get those you can go. I..." He paused and glanced to Ludwig a little apprehensively. "I'm sure you're busy," he finished, only a little awkwardly.
But the awkward moment passed and he was comparing shades of paint to Ludwig's hair, skin, and eyes, trying to make sure he got the right ones. "I'll start right away. It should only take me a couple of days." He smiled as he held a shade of blue up to the German's face and peered between it and his eyes. "We could... meet for lunch, si?" He seemed excited by this prospect. Something about Ludwig just made him happy all over.
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Aug 5, 2010 23:41:39 GMT -5
Ludwig's heart gave an uncertain stutter every time Feliciano smiled at him, or near him. The slim artist fluttered excitedly around his shop like a butterfly in a garden and Ludwig wondered if he held out his hand, would Feliciano stop and stay with him, for just a moment? He shook his head to clear it and dismissed the passing thought as far too fanciful for someone he'd only just met, and a man, no less.
Ludwig did stop and pull out his pocket watch to check his time when Italy mentioned it. His Schedule was getting a bit tight, yes, but perhaps he would spend slightly less time on his cleaning regimen. Gilbert had been bothering him about being more sociable, after all. It didn't hurt that the chair he'd so carelessly chosen was quite comfortable when he wasn't being stared at, and the shop was warm, and Feliciano's large clear eyes were making him feel sort of fuzzy around the edges again. "I have a schedule to keep, ja."
He didn't quite know how to react as tubes of paint and scraps of paper were held up and scrutinized, and settled for cataloging socially acceptable ways to meet again and elicit more blinding, mind-bending smiles. Coffee was usually involved, and he thought he'd read something about small gifts being appropriate, but that was more appropriate for young women...
Ah, he'd been out maneuvered, it seemed. "Lunch would be ...quite pleasant." He ran over his checklist of food stalls and restaurants. None of them seemed to match the sunny atmosphere Feliciano exuded. "I would be pleased to accompany you to your choice of restaurant." He was always too formal, Gilbert said so, but it was safer than making a complete fool of himself in front of the vivacious young man.
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Aug 14, 2010 17:33:19 GMT -5
The entirety of Feliciano's visage brightened immediately upon hearing Ludwig's response to his proposal of lunch. It took everything in him not to suddenly hug the poor German right on the spot. And even though he managed that, it only took a few moments longer for his resolve to crumple and he threw his arms around Ludwig's neck, hugging him tightly in an overly-excited way.
"I'm so glad!" he gushed in a way that only he could manage without seeming completely insane. "Ve, I know just the place! It's a really nice restaurant, but it's not too expensive, and... we could share an ice cream after we've finished eating!" He was so excited that he could barely contain himself and he planted a solid kiss on the German's cheek before letting him go and skipping to the other side of the store to set the colors he had chosen aside for later use.
Looking back over his shoulder, he smiled brightly at Ludwig, and his whole face nearly cracked in two from the force of it. "So... I'll see you in two days, si? At noon! And don't be late... my nonno always taught me to never be late!" And yet the both of them were always late to everything somehow...
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Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on Aug 16, 2010 17:32:12 GMT -5
Ludwig Beilschidt was being hugged.
It took him a moment to process this information, and it did not fit with how things were supposed to go. This whole encounter was throwing him and his schedule off. He was about to point this out to the flighty artist through the pink clouds filling his head when the brunette began speaking again.
"...Icecream is good." that was not what he'd meant to say, at all, and he felt soft lips press again his cheek before the italian danced away from him again.
There was no help for it, he was red, across the face and ears and neck. He had slowly accepted that the artist was a bit unorthodox, but this went... it was...
Oh. Another smile. He didn't think they could get brighter. Ludwig thought, in passing, that the force of Feliciano's smile could break the universe gently in two.
"Yes. I will make sure my schedule is open then." He stood up, stiffly. That seemed to be it, really, he had no excuse to linger further in the warm little shop and he was already past his schedule. He walked on autopilot towards the door, pausing to offer his hand to the artist for a polite, appropriate handshake. It wasn't really an excuse to be touched again, or at least that's what he convinced himself. " I look forward to it."
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Aug 16, 2010 18:35:36 GMT -5
Distracted as he was with putting the colors in all the right places so he didn't forget which colors he had chosen for what, Feliciano didn't notice the stiff way in which Ludwig was moving or the bright blush that had spread across his face. In the Italian's mind, he had done absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. His grandfather had always been very affectionate, and Feliciano liked to treat other people the way that he liked to be treated himself.
Hearing Ludwig's words, he turned around, having just set the last of the tubes aside, and saw a hand being held out to him. With an ecstatic smile, he took the hand and shook it, perhaps a little clumsily, because he didn't really shake hands that terribly often.
"Ve! I look forward to it too!" The way he said the words left little doubt that he was telling the absolute truth. "I promise I'll have the painting all ready for you." His eyes slipped closed as he smiled again and let go of Ludwig's hand, fingers lingering briefly on the other man's hand almost without his even realizing it.
No sooner had he let go, though, than he had turned around and started squirting the various colors onto a sheet of paper he used to mix colors. Obviously, he was intent on starting the painting right away.
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