"It's beautiful out, isn't it?"
Lovino had to agree. The September air had begun to transform the nearby oaks into various shades of gold and auburn, and soft breeze was tugging them back and forth, causing them to every so often emit little patches of vermillion into the autumn sky. The day was made even more beautiful by the grinning, green-eyed Spaniard sitting beside him on the park bench. Antonio had an arm resting around his shoulder, and Lovino permitted himself to rest his head ever so slightly against Antonio's. But only because he knew Antonio would be sad if he didn't. It wasn't like he enjoyed it.
"It isn't going to be for long. Winter's coming fast this year," Lovino said, looking up into the sky. Clouds were gradually collecting on the horizon.
"It is a bit chilly out…" Antonio agreed. Both of them were wearing coats of medium thickness to fend off the cool gusts of wind.
Lovino scowled. He hated the cold.
As if reading his mind, Antonio leaned over and pulled out a leaf that's nestled into Lovino's hair, careful to avoid the single curl that stuck out among the rest. "It's okay, it'll be warm back at the house. And maybe you and I can hop in the shower for a little while - "
"Yes?" Lovino and Antonio said at the same time, turning to face the play equipment.
A little girl giggled from the swing set. "Mirar a quanto in alto sono swinging!" She shouted joyously, in a collage of English, Spanish, and Italian.
"Eres muy talentosa, mi princesa," Antonio called back to her, beaming even more.
She laughed again, and Lovino's eyes softened affectionately. But then her face froze. Horrified, Lovino watched as she fell from the swing and toppled to the gravel below.
Instantly both men were on their feet, running to her.
"Come here, chiquita," Antonio said, kneeling down next to her. But Lovino beat him, scooping their daughter into his arms.
"Where does it hurt?" he said with a gentleness that he could only muster for two people in the world.
"M-Mio ginocchio," she whimpered, tears streaming from her vivid jade eyes.
Antonio leaned over and planted a light kiss on her knee.
"Better now?" he asked, smiling.
"Sė," she said, a smile once again lighting up her face. She wiped her nose on her sleeve. Then she looked up at Lovino. "Can we go home now?"
Lovino's heart fluttered. "Sure," he said, feeling the corners of his mouth lift.
Antonio noticed. He reached a hand over and brushed the hair from Lovino's face, so as to get a better view of the rare sight that was his husband's smile. Lovino blushed, looking down.
"Come here," Antonio said, taking advantage of Lovino's momentary embarrassment and snatching their daughter from his arms. He lifted her up and set her on his shoulders, standing.
She squealed, thrilled, and Antonio laughed.
"Lovi," he said, taking the Italian by the hand and pulling him to his feet. They stood then face to face, Lovino's a few inches lower than Antonio's.
"Mm," the Spaniard murmured, placing one kiss on his daughter's ankle and another on his husband's nose. Lovino blushed even more, and scowled as Antonio entwined their fingers gently.
The three began to walk home, the wind gently caressing their hair.