| Happy Birthday, Feliciano.... |

SpaMano-The Flames of the HeartHe was alone. Who was he kidding? He was always alone. It didn't matter anyways. He knew how people saw him, how everyone felt about him. They all hated him. He didn't blame them though. Who could come to like someone like him anyways? No one cared about how he was, or even who he was.They all liked his little brother better than him. The cute, adorable, lovable Feliciano. No one even cared to notice poor Lovino.SpaMano-The Flames of the Heart by ~DummkopfGermany
He sat in the dark corner of the antiquarian-style living room of the vast, lonely house he had come to know as "home". His face was drawon in a scornful and depressed pout. His knees drawn up to his chest, he sat in bitter silence, listening to all the creaks and sounds an old house makes. He flinched suddenly as the high-pitched doorbell broke through the silence.
"Lovino! It's me! I'm home!" a deep, broad voice exclaimed from beyond the heavy oak door.
A Spanish accent. It was Antonio. He was the Master of the house. The one who forced Lovino to stay there, to work for
