Lazy Afternoon (Alfred)

It was one of those rare - okay, not as rare as the non-English populace likes to claim - nice days. Rare in that, while the sun was shining, it was not boiling the populace, nor was it freezing them. After nearly two years living in the heart of the country of rain Feliciano had learned to take advantage of such days, and as soon as the sun had emerged he had made a point to find his way outside. Though it was not as warm as his home, the Italian would never pass up the enjoyment of the sun, and had learned to find some joy in the English version of nice days.

Already, he had gotten himself not one, but three cones of soft-serve over the course of the day, and now he had laid out a blanket over the grass of the park closest to his apartment, and was spread out on his stomach, working with chalk pastels and watercolours to create the scene of the part in front of him. While his usual work dealt more with oils and acrylic (or clay, in the sculptural portion of his class) it was nice, at times, to go back to a simpler style. And on such a lazy day he was more inclined to seek out the gentle pales that the two styles lent themselves to.

And so he was now, comfortable with a light breeze lifting and dropping his hair as his fingers moved across the parchment, looking up occasionally to note the scene before him.

(Wow. That's super short and I'm sorry. And the title is crap. Because I cannot think right now. Sorry. *flail*)

Alfred, for the first time in what seemed like years, woke up to the sun shining in his face instead of the loud screaming of the alarm clock. For a guy who usually stayed in bed for at least another ten minutes in order to wake up, he jumped out of the bed in a matter of seconds and ran out on his balcony with a loud whoop of joy. Sun, sun, the sun was shining! It was SHINING! Sure, it was nothing like the beautiful sunny beaches of Cali or the summer heat of Texas, but it wasn't rain and clouds for once.

He couldn't remember dressing up so fast before. He was always groggy after sleeping so long, which was kind of weird. But he wouldn't give up his all-night video game sessions for sleep. And he wouldn't go back to sleep; he didn't want to waste sunny time like that. And where did one go if the sun was shining and they couldn't go to the beach?

Five minutes later Alfred was jogging towards the park, an ice cream in his hand. Ah, how he loved this stuff. It was creamy, it was sugary, it was cold, and it was awesome. What more could he need? He slowed his jogging down to walking, the light bounce in his step remaining. The park was so much prettier when it was lit by the sunshine. He looked around and wondered what he could do. In his haste to get here, he completely forgot to at least bring a ball or something. But he sure as hell wasn't going back now.

He could see a guy sitting on a blanket, drawing, painting, or something like that. He probably wouldn't mind the company, right? Right. Alfred nodded and made his way over to the painter, peeking at his canvas over his shoulder. "Hi there, what 'cha painting?"

Getting lost in one's work was an art in and of itself, and one that Feliciano had quite well mastered. He really became absorbed in the task, completely shutting out the world around him. So having someone suddenly appear next to him and start talking was rather jolting, and led the Italian to jump slightly, dragging his brush too far across. Oh well. Watercolours were forgiving, and he could always just white it out when the other wasn't looking.

It also had the unwanted side effect of him rarely noticing what people said to him when they first spoke - so it took him a moment to realise what he'd been asked. Shouldn't that be obvious from looking over his work? Still, he shrugged and sat back up a bit more to reveal it better - after a moment spent correcting his mistake. It was a good thing he wasn't one of those artists that flew into a boiling rage at being disturbed. There were some of those at his university, to be sure, and they terrified him. He was pretty sure any one of them would have bitten off this boys head for so much as looking their direction or breathing too loud. Because it might disturb their work environment or something.

Feliciano was far from this sort, and often played loud and obnoxious music while he worked or had skype up to talk to his friends and family back home. As such, he didn't have any problems with pausing and looking up to the tall... teenager, he assumed. That face was just too young to be older than himself, and he figured that the other was probably a bit younger.

"Just the park, si? The people in it and the day. It's so nice, I didn't want to just let it go to waste, and this way it'll keep going forever, si?" he explained, dipping his brush into the water he'd set out to start cleaning it again. "Why?"

Ooops, he made the guy ruin his pretty picture. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." His tone and expression were both apologetic. He really did feel bad for that. Not that the guy seemed to mind. He thought he would have shouted or something; painters always got violent in movies when they were interrupted.

"You're right! I heard lot of people paint because they want to capture a moment or something! Like photography!" Photography was awesome. Unlike what everyone thought, Alfred actually preferred being behind the camera rather in front of it, courtesy of his masked but still existing sense of insecurity. Photos made him look fat, in his opinion. But clicking a camera and capturing a moment was exciting. His favorite picture was of an eagle about to take flight, a rare sight he had managed to capture years ago in Texas.

He shrugged. "I was just curious~ Here I am, outside on such a pretty day, and I had nothing to do! And you looked interesting, so I decided to talk to you! Am I bothering you?" He sure hoped not. He wanted to talk to this young man. He heard artists lived in their own little world and Alfred was curious what that world was like. Was it all pretty and colorful? Did things look different?

"Can you still save your painting? I didn't want to ruin it. Do you always paint scenery?" That would be a bit boring. Well, he wasn't an artist, maybe it wasn't boring for them. "Do you draw?" Alfred liked drawing. Especially doodling superheroes. "I like drawing superheroes! I think they're cool!" Oops, he didn't want to tell anyone that. Loving childish, but totally awesome, things kind of destroyed his popular guy image.

"Of course I can fix it~" Feliciano responded with a smile. "Watercolours are very forgiving, I could make a million mistakes and still be able to fix them up I bet~"

Of course, he actually could thanks to his new found ability, but even Feliciano was aware enough to realise that that was probably not something he should advertise to the world at large. Though he was pretty sure he wouldn't have to worry about that with this kid, if he were to slip up. He seemed nice, and friendly, and not the sort that would throw a fit about that sort of thing - other than maybe to say how cool it was or something like that. It was amazing how nice everyone was - it seemed that most people he met were, perhaps Feliciano had been wrong to be nervous about moving here like he had been two years back. Of course, now that he was settled there were no such nerves any more.


"Ah... non. I don't usually paint scenery at all, actually! Just for backgrounds. I mostly like to do portraits - people, si?" He shrugged, then paused and gave a thoughtful little frown at the idea of superheroes.

...like... like the ones in tights in comics that he saw during his few years in America all over the place?

"I don't... really know much about superheroes, si?" he confessed, tone growing apologetic. "I guess I just don't have much experience with them, so I've never really thought about it. I guess they could in interesting though, si? And you get so close to the skin it's almost like a form study sketch, only... without the naked. That might actually be really fun to try out, haha!"

"That's good~" He was glad he didn't ruin the pretty painting of his soon-to-be-new-friend. He laughed. "Sweet! It would take pretty long though, wouldn't it? Fixing all those mistakes?"

He really was happy the other took it so well. Not that the brown haired male looked like the aggressive type. He looked pretty easy-going and nice, actually. He wondered if he was British; he knew there were some nice Brits around, he knew quite a few of those not quite stereotypical ones, but what could he say? Stiff upper lip and all that jazz was still a stereotype and a funny one at that, so Alfred had a hard time leaving it behind.

"Painting people sounds cool! I like doodling them in different poses, though that's a bit hard!" Various weird poses were his favorite things to draw, although they never turned out right with bones missing here, an impossible bend there.

His jaw dropped. He didn't know much about superheroes? Bu-but! They were so awesome! But then his astonishment passed, a startled laugh escaping him. "Yeah, those are the ones! With the tight pants and stuff!" He snickered. "It really doesn't hide all that much. They want to show the world their manly muscles! Well, not Wonder Woman. She, erm, shouldn't have manly muscles. That would be plain weird and gross." He shuddered. "Even though she's an Amazon. She is still kinda womanly, and I think she should stay that way." He was rambling now. He gave his companion a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I always ramble about my heroes. You should try drawing them! Fight scenes are fun! And the poses they do...those are epic!"

"Probably, but you have to patient anyway, so I don't think it'd be any worse than that?" Feliciano shrugged, drying his brush now and carefully setting it aside.

...he should try working on something with superheroes? It... wasn't exactly his thing, but he supposed it could be possible. Always a good idea to step outside of your comfort zone to stretch your ability, after all. Especially when you were trying to become good enough to live off of something. It might be a very good idea indeed to try it.

"...I guess I could. I don't... I don't really like fighting though. Maybe I could just draw them saving people, or a saving a kitten or something maybe? Ve~ That'd be cute! A big old muscle-y man in a cape flying up to save an itty bitty kitten from a tree!" Oh, maybe he would make a sketch of that! And then he could give it to this guy, as a thank you for the idea!

"...uhm. I think. That I might need your help with how their costumes and their faces look and stuff though. Because I don't... really know what they look like or what they wear from memory..."

Yupp, art was definitely not his cup of tea. Geez, weird saying. But whatever, it seemed as if art wasn't meant for him. Alfred wasn't a very patient person, quite on the contrary, actually. He hated waiting for anything or anyone, although he himself never much cared about making others wait. Not that he was always late; he was just easily distracted by practically anything.

The guy didn't like fighting? But it was so cool! The best part of comics! And video games! Fighting in life was pretty exciting too. It just sucked when the principal gave you all that punishment for a few little punches. They were mostly worth it though; the football players back home were usually dicks.

He laughed loudly at that. "Hey, heroes aren't old men! But sure, they could save a kitten! Heroes do that too, of course! Damsels in distress are pretty hard to come by nowadays!" Not that hard, actually, but sometimes kittens were just cuter than those supposed damsels.

Alfred beamed. "Sure! I'd be happy to help!" He sat down next to the guy, tucking his legs under himself. "Mind if I sit~?" Maybe he should have asked that a bit sooner? Ah, no matter, if the other wanted him to get up, Alfred would do so.

"Oh, I didn't mean old like old!" Feliciano laughed, waving his approval as the other dropped down next to him. "I meant it like... like ol'. You know. 'Big ol' pile of-' or something like that, si?" He wasn't really sure how to explain it, given that it was just a colloquialism that he'd picked up way back when he'd lived in America for a few years, one that had just stuck. Still, no matter.

He shrugged the idea off and scooted over to offer him up some more room.

"But they're kind of old, si? I mean, older then me or you. Adults!" Because even over twenty as he was, there was no way Feliciano would consider himself an adult yet. He wasn't ready for the responsibilities of adult life! It seemed way, way too hard and more than a little daunting to start trying to tackle now. Besides, he had his nonno to take care of that sort of thing for him, so it wasn't something he'd have to worry about.

"Ah, I see! Okay, I gotcha." He laughed with the guy. "Didn't really expect many American phrases here." He tilted his head. "Are you American? I mean, you have a not-really American accent, but there are all kinds of people in America, so you could still be American! It is a melting pot!" He was rambling again, wasn't he? He really couldn't help it, he just loved his country and he was insanely proud to be from the US.

He snickered. "True, they are! But at least they're fun adults~ Well, not Batman. Batman isn't fun, he is Batman. But yeah. That's why we love him." Honestly, a cheerful Batman would be like an overweight Wonderwoman or a weak Superman or a slow Flash, etc. It just wouldn't be Batman.

"Oh, by the way, my name is Alfred. What's yours?"

"Non, sono Italiano! I'm from Italy~" Feliciano announced proudly, flashing the other a grin. He was quite proud of his heritage, especially as an artist. He felt like the fame of so many classical figures and heroes in the history of art made the skill run in his veins and they certainly gave him some truly fantastic names to try and live up to. Perhaps he was a bit grand in his thinking, but he hoped to one day be good enough to have his name written down along with them, even if it didn't happen for years after his death.

"Ah, but I lived in America for a little bit. When I was a really little kid. My parents moved their for work, from Sicily~ But then I moved back to Tuscany and I've been around Italy since then I guess~" he added, happy to babble on about his family, either for as short as he'd just done or for hours, as he might have done if the other hadn't jumped in again with more talk about heroes.

...that made sense. He guessed they mostly had to be charismatic, being heroes and all. Who wanted to be saved by a really scary guy? You might think they were a super villain instead!

"Ah, Feliciano~ But my friends call me Feli because the full version is too long... so you can call me Feli too, because I want to be your friend Alfredo~"

"Ooooh, so you're Italian!" Alfred loved Italy. Well, Italian food to be specific. He had never been to the actual country, after all. But he just adored their cuisine, especially the gift sent to Italy by God himself: ice-cream, or rather, gelato. "Do you like spaghetti? And pizza? And ravioli? And gelato? Man, I LOVE gelato! You people are geniuses to have come up with something so awesome!"

Alfred nodded, beaming. "I see, I see~ America is cool, isn't it? Which state did you live in?" He really liked this guy. He was Italian and kinda-sorta-maybe-a-little American-ish. He was sure living in Italy was almost as cool as living in the USA. The US was, of course, the best place on the face of Earth, but living in a place where you could sleep a few hours in the afternoon without getting called a lazy-ass or an old man was just cool.

"Okay~! Nice to meet you, Feli!" Being called Alfred kind of reminded him of this pasta he ate once...wasn't that called Alfredo too? "Feli, is there a pasta named Alfredo?"

He couldn't help but let a laugh escape him at the other's energy. It was nice, the enthusiasm and easily brought a smile to his face. Of course, it was rare for Feliciano to be caught without a smile on his face - he literally radiated happiness now a days, to the point where it was infectious - but this one was special, geared just towards the borderline-hyperactive American. What a nice friend to make!

"Alfredo's a sauce, not a pasta!" He corrected once the other had finished. "It's really good and creamy. I like it with fettuccine - that's a kind of pasta! And I think that's what you're thinking of. Fettuccine alfredo, it's a really creamy, delicious pasta, especially with a hint of lemon, a bit of basil and some chicken in it! Hmm... I think that's what I'll make for dinner tonight! Because I met you!" He giggled, a soft, bubbly sound that lifted from his throat much the way foam rose to the top of a bottle of soda pop that had been shaken up- a fast surge for a quick explosion of the gentle sound. "I like gelato too, si! I even know how to make it! Sometimes I do, but when I make too much fratello gets grumpy and it's not like I can bring it to class to give away, it would melt! So I can't make as much as I would like..."

He paused, there was something else. What... what... Oh! Of course!

"New York! I was from New York! That's where famiglia mia - ah, my family - moved to. I don't remember much of it, but we were in a big city with lots of cars that was really loud all the time!"

"Oops, sorry, didn't know that!" He never said he knew a lot about Italian cuisine. He ate whatever they recommended and it never failed to be delicious. "Fettuccine alfredo?" That did ring a bell. "You're probably right!" He was pretty sure he ate some of that two weeks ago in that restaurant at around five o'clock or so.

Alfred just couldn't stop smiling. He was always a sunny guy, more often than not seen with a grin on his face, but his new Italian friend had a way of lifting his already cheery mood. When Feli said that he could even make gelato, Alfred started literally bouncing in excitement. "Whoaaaa, that's soo cool! I wish I could make my own gelato too! Is it hard to make?" If he could make gelato, Alfred was pretty sure he wouldn't leave the kitchen for hours.

...Okay, that wasn't true, he could make burgers just fine but it was easier to get them from Mickey D's or from another fast food place. It would be the same with gelato.

"If you make too much, you could always give it to me!" That would be really cool! "Fratello means brother, right? Why does he get angry? He doesn't like gelato?" Alfred couldn't imagine anyone not liking that creamy, icy treat of gods.

"I'm from New York too! New York City to be precise! And yeah, I guess big cities can be kinda loud. Especially after a ranch in good ol' Texas. But you get used to it after a while~"

"It's not that hard, it just takes time~" Feliciano decided after a moments deliberation. "If you have a mechanical churner it's a lot easier you just have be patient and let it get really cold before you actually make it. But it's really worth it once you're done so I don't even really notice the wait any more~" He nodded in confirmation of his own words and smiled.

"And... si. It does mean brother. I don't know why he gets angry. I think he just likes to get angry, or needs an excuse to get cranky? I'll ask him, maybe!"

Alfred wrinkled his nose. He was not a patient person, not the slightest bit. He hated not doing anything, so waiting was something he sucked at. And it would probably take ages for the ice-cream to get cold enough to enjoy. Looks like he would just have to continue getting it from the store.

"He likes getting angry? Whoa, that's weird. Why would someone like being angry? I don't like it. It always makes me stupid things that I regret later." Regret being the key word there. He always did stupid stuff, but he usually only regretted the things he did while he was angry. Like when he broke his fingers after punching a wall. That wasn't fun at all.