I've never tried something like this.

0o0o0o

1972, America

When Ludwig heard they were getting neighbors, he expected a lot of things. Gilbert had told him the stories about older kids who would steal your stuff and laugh when you asked for it back, or the little kids who would demand you played with them and screamed when you didn't. However, of all the things Ludwig was expecting when the big grey moving truck pulled into the driveway, Feliciano Roma Vargas was not one of them.

To be fair, even if Ludwig had been told that between the boxes labeled in a language he couldn't read and the dozens of canvases there would be a head of wild auburn curls and a very oversized paint smock, nobody could really prepared him for the shock of meeting the owner of both for the first time. Certainly, nobody could have warned him not to stand behind the gate connecting their gardens and therefore be in the way of Feliciano Vargas jumping down from his fence and colliding into him.

He looked up from the ground, pulling up the brim of his pageboy cap.

'Ciao, ciao, I'm sorry! I didn't see you there, Nonno always tells me I need to look where I'm going but I was distracted, look at the sky here! It's really blue, like...' He stopped. 'Oh, sorry, I really do need to think before I talk. What's your name?'

'Ludwig,' Ludwig said, not sure what else to say to all of that. The boy on the ground beamed and stood up, adjusting his cap.

'I'm Feliciano Roma Vargas, your new neighbor. How old are you?'

'I'm eleven.'

'Me too! I have an older brother, he's almost sixteen and his name is Lovino.'

'My older brother is almost seventeen.' Ludwig stifled a smile as Feliciano made a you win face. 'His name is Gilbert.'

'Where is he?'

'I don't know. He writes, and so he's always out in town.' Ludwig pointed up to the window with the birdcage in it.

'I've never met a writer before.' Feliciano gestured to his paint-stained smock. 'I paint.'

Ludwig didn't typically do art, and instead pointed towards the moving truck. 'Who's that?'

A tall man stood among the boxes, gesturing wildly at the movers.

'That's my nonno.' Feliciano scrambled up on the fence, his mismatched sneakers wedging into the weathered planks.

'Careful, Feliciano!'

'I'm being careful!' Feliciano tried to catch himself, nearly tripping over his untied laces, and Ludwig grabbed his hand. 'Thanks,' he said breathlessly.

'I told you to be careful.'

'Well…' Feliciano didn't appear to have a response to that. He waved at his grandfather. 'Nonno, dov'è Lovino?'

'Dentro!'

'Si, si.' Feliciano squeezed his hand and jumped down from the fence. Ludwig bit his tongue to stop from reprimanding him to be careful again. 'My nonno takes care of me and Lovi, and that's because...it's how it is.' He let go, brushing back his hair, opened his mouth as if to continue, and shut it again. 'That's all.'

Ludwig didn't see what was so strange about it, because Gilbert and him were raised by their grandfather. Feliciano was plucking at the front of his paint smock now, brows furrowed, and Ludwig wanted to tell him that it wasn't a weird thing like he thought.

'You have a funny accent, you know, are you from Europe too?' Feliciano asked suddenly, and Ludwig let him change the subject.

'My grandfather moved us here from Germany. Where are you from?'

'Italia.' Feliciano's paint smock was now crumpled as well as dirty, but he didn't seem to care. 'I was worrying I'd be the only one from Europe for miles, and the first person I meet is you. America is looking good!' He held out two thumbs-up. 'E come si dice il tuo?'

'What?' Ludwig asked, completely baffled.

'And yours. How do you say Germany in German?'

'Deutschland.'

Feliciano laughed, and Ludwig noticed his eyes were a bright gold. 'I like it.'

'Thank you,' Ludwig said. Feliciano was studying him intently.

'You don't understand Italian?' he asked. 'At all?'

'No,' Ludwig said, feeling slightly defensive. 'There wasn't any opportunity to learn it, exactly.'

'Well, I'll teach you if you teach me German.' Feliciano smiled. 'Ludwig, dovresti saperlo, i tuoi occhi sono molto blu. Mi piacciono.'

'What?' Ludwig paused. 'I...do you want me to say something in German now?'

'Yes, please.'

'Ich mag deinen Akzent,' he tried, feeling heat rise to his face. 'Feliciano,' he added.

'What does that mean?'

'I'm not saying if you don't!'

'Oh.' Feliciano shuffled his feet. 'I'll tell you later. I'll see you, okay?'

'Okay.'

Feliciano climbed back over the fence, wobbling slightly, and hopped down on the other side. A few seconds later, Ludwig saw him run to his grandfather, chattering excitedly in Italian. His grandfather chuckled and ruffled his hair, and Feliciano turned and waved, beaming.

Ludwig waved back and ducked inside his own house, trying to process everything that had happened and finding himself smiling.

0o0o0o

Lovino was already sprawled out over the couch. He put down his book as they came in, and Feliciano noticed he hadn't bookmarked it, which meant that he hadn't been really reading it, and braced for the question he knew was coming.

'Who's the kid outside?' Lovino asked.

'Ludwig,' Feliciano said. Lovino picked up his book again, but didn't turn the pages. 'He's got blue eyes and he's eleven.'

'Who's the older one?' Lovino jerked his thumb outside, to where someone was leaning against the side of the house, watching their moving truck come in. When he saw them watching, he smiled surprisedly and waved. Lovino looked away.

'His name is Gilbert, and he's a writer. You could go talk to him,' Feliciano offered. 'You could discuss your books. Ludwig can introduce you.'

'I'll stay here.'

'If you're staying, you can help unpack,' their grandfather called from the driveway. Lovino pulled a face.

'You really don't want to help us unpack?' Feliciano teased.

'It's better than that,' Lovino complained. Their grandfather poked his head inside and laughed.

'Go on, Lovino, make some friends! Feliciano already has,' he added. Lovino scowled.

'He always does.'

'Feliciano!' their grandfather said jovially. 'How old are the kids next door?'

'Eleven and seventeen.'

Lovino picked up the book again and pretended to ignore them. Their grandfather bent down and whispered exaggeratedly in Feliciano's ear.

'I think we've almost convinced him.'

Feliciano giggled.

Lovino waited until he was gone before groaning and standing up.

'May as well,' he grumbled, unlatching the window. He tossed his book from hand to hand, considering, before tucking it under his arm. 'Tell Nonno I'm studying, okay?'

'Okay,' Feliciano said, and Lovino paused long enough to smile before dropping out the low window and hopping the fence to Ludwig's house.

Feliciano went back to the driveway to help carry the boxes inside.

'Lovino's studying,' he dutifully informed their grandfather, who chuckled and glanced over to where Lovino was talking to Ludwig's brother. They really didn't resemble each other much, Gilbert had warm brown hair and eyes the colour of springtime, and he waved as he caught Feliciano watching. Ludwig was all gold with strong blue eyes, and he was tall, all of which made Feliciano want to paint him. He wondered when he'd come back out.

They unloaded the rest of the boxes and had to start ripping open the tape with box cutters, which Feliciano wasn't allowed to help with.

'Go get your brother. He can stop his studying and help his old grandfather for a bit,' Feliciano's nonno huffed, sawing at a stubborn flap. It gave suddenly, and he nicked his finger and said something Feliciano imagined he wasn't supposed to have heard. He left before he heard any more.

Lovino and Gilbert weren't in the shade of the house anymore, and Feliciano had to look around for them until he found them leaning against a tree down the road. Lovino was talking animatedly and smiling bigger than Feliciano had seen ever since they'd received the news that they would be leaving Italy.

'Nonno wants you to help him open boxes,' he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. 'Hello, Gilbert, and if this isn't too ridiculous, do you have band-aids?'

'I'm not Gilbert,' not-Gilbert said with a embarrassed smile. 'He's at-Gilbert's not home. I'm his friend, Antonio. And I do have band-aids. Who got hurt?' He offered a few. Feliciano took them.

'My nonno got cut open by the box cutter. We've never been good at opening boxes. Oh! We're the family that just moved in, but I guess you already know that. Sorry, Antonio.' Feliciano looked at Lovino, who was staring down the road. Feliciano craned his head and wondered if he was red.

'Are you a writer, Antonio, and that's why he likes you so much? Never mind, Lovino can see you later, I guess, but he's got to go now-'

Lovino grabbed his arm and forcibly led him away. Feliciano called his last goodbyes and stumbled to keep up with the pace.

'What's wrong?'

'You-' Lovino muttered something he'd probably picked up from their nonno under his breath. 'You didn't tell me he wasn't Gilbert.'

'Oh, so you called him Gilbert? Sorry, I didn't know what he looked like. Now that I think of it, Ludwig did say he was usually out, but at least it was one of Gilbert's friends and not someone random.'

'It's as good as random if you call them by the wrong name,' Lovino hissed, tugging him along faster. Feliciano noticed he had two new dog-ear bookmarks in his paperback.

'Lovino is here!' Feliciano announced, pulling him into the house. 'And Antonio had band-aids for you. Here, hold still, I'll put them on.' The band-aids had a tomato pattern.

'Who's Antonio?' their grandfather asked, smiling.

Lovino picked at the dog-eared pages of his book. 'Feliciano gave me faulty information.'

'It turns out that Ludwig's brother isn't home, but he has a friend named Antonio, who might also know the same books Lovino does,' Feliciano explained. They turned to Lovino to elaborate. He picked up the box cutter and started cutting the tape off their boxes of bedsheets.

'Feliciano, you can go fix the beds.'

A few hours later, the house had been furnished, or as furnished as Feliciano was willing to make it before having something to eat. Why he hadn't immediately found something to eat as soon as they reached America was now beyond him, even if he'd been starstruck by the country and then a little bit intrigued and amazed by whoever Ludwig was.

'Take off your hat at the table,' his nonno reprimanded, and Feliciano stuffed it in a pocket of his paint smock. 'And take that off, too! You aren't going to be painting at the table.'

Feliciano wriggled out of the heavy smock and was struck by an idea. 'Can Ludwig come over to eat?'

'I don't see why not. You can invite Antonio, as well,' he added conspiratorially, and Lovino scoffed and stirred the sauce faster.

'I don't know where he lives.'

'Well, Feliciano and I can go see the neighbors. If you don't want to come, can you watch everything to make sure it doesn't burn?'

'Yeah.' Lovino waved at them, now absorbed in keeping the pasta from sticking to the pot. 'The extra chair is in my room if you bring him over.'

Feliciano ran ahead to ring the doorbell and was faced by a severe-looking man with long blond hair. He had the same blue eyes as his son.

'Hello.' Feliciano had to lean back to meet his eyes. 'We're your neighbors-well, there's also my brother Lovino-and I was wondering if Ludwig wanted to come over for dinner?'

'I will ask.' He turned to the stairs. 'Ludwig, komm bitte nach unten.'

Ludwig appeared at the top of the stairs. Feliciano smiled-he really couldn't help smiling-and Ludwig's eyes widened, and then he smiled back.

'Do you want to come over for dinner? It's pasta. It's usually pasta, if you want to come over again after this, assuming you come now.'

'I would,' Ludwig said, glancing up at his father. He nodded, and then looked beyond Feliciano to where his nonno was following him up the path.

'This is my nonno,' Feliciano introduced.

'I'm Roma Vargas,' he said, and then paused. Feliciano turned to see a strange expression on his face. 'Aldrich?' he said quietly.

Aldrich nodded once. Feliciano's grandfather smiled, but it looked strained, and waved Feliciano towards the house. 'I'll catch up,' he assured them.

Feliciano hurried back towards the house, careful to watch out for loose rocks in the dusk. Ludwig followed, glancing back to where Roma and Aldrich had now shut the door behind them and were talking intensely.

'Where do you think they know each other from?' Ludwig asked. Feliciano told him he didn't know.

They sat down at the table. Lovino frowned.

'Where's Nonno?'

'He'll catch up,' Feliciano said vaguely. 'This is Ludwig.'

'I'm living with my grandfather and brother next door,' Ludwig said. Feliciano realized that Aldrich must be older than he looked. The hair made him look younger.

'We just moved in, but I expect you've heard that already,' Lovino said. 'I hope you like pasta at least a fraction as much as my little brother, because we have it a lot.'

Feliciano dragged the extra chair out and Ludwig smiled again as he sat down, and in the near-darkness of his first day in loud, bright America, he looked gold and happy and Feliciano felt the same.

0o0o0o

This will probably be a longer story, and this is the first of two parts.

:: Old music that makes you remember being happier