The dark side of your heart

That afternoon, Lovino seemed to be hiding from some kind of enemy, who wasn't letting him in peace for several days. Squatting in his kitchen in front of a certain cat, who had placed his forepaws on his knees. The Italian was looking at the animal with slight anger in his eyes. "The hell is your owner plotting?" he asked Tortuga, who only returned his gaze, sniffed at him and finally meowed, incomprehensible for Lovino. He let out a long sigh. During the last few days Antonio seemed to come up with whatever pretext possible to talk to Lovino, who, faithful to his snappish personality, avoided or just completely ignored him. Sure, he had helped him one time, but that didn't mean that he wanted to keep dealing with that depressed Spaniard. Yes, indeed, the other man was still filled with tragic and depressing thoughts, since it was more than obvious that he wouldn't just turn into the embodiment of optimism from one day to the next. However, Lovino had the impression that Antonio was only seeking him out, because he had the erroneous idea that he would always be there for him, every time he felt the necessity to kill himself again. And the Italian didn't have the time to save other people... much less, when he wasn't even able to save himself. That's why he was now hiding in his kitchen, after having spotted Antonio on his yard through the window. The Spaniard was wandering to and fro, seeming unsure if he should ring at the door or not. And if that wasn't enough already, the telephone had been ringing the entire week as well. Of course, it was Feliciano again, as if he didn't have other things to do than calling him all the time. Lovino groaned loudly when he heard the damn telephone again, so he picked up the cat and went to his bedroom, just letting it ring. Tortuga wriggled in his arms, as if wanting to say that he didn't want to go with him, but Lovino took him anyway. And again he found himself in his dark bedroom, where it looked like it was night, despite being the middle of day, with its brown walls and the thick curtains that didn't let through any sunlight... once again he was hiding in a dark and solitary place. He finally let go of the animal, who immediately jumped on the bed, while the Italian let himself fall on it as well, lying on his stomach and closing his eyes, still faintly perceiving the telephone's ringing. "Let me in peace, all of you," he said into one of the pillows he was hugging and felt the meowing cat's steps on the mattress. "Do you also want everyone to go to hell, or am I am the only freak wishing to see the end of the world?" he asked hoarsely and stretched his arm to pet Tortuga, who recently had become something like a confident to him. It was pleasant to talk to someone who didn't answer, someone who only listened and whose thoughts he couldn't hear. The Italian continued to lie in the same position for a long while, trying to ignore everything around him and imagining how everything and everyone was vanishing into thin air and letting him completely alone in a wonderful, silent darkness. But his temporary comfort was abruptly interrupted by the cat starting to meow again, right as someone rang the door. Lovino screamed into his pillow. Who had come to disturb him now?! What part of "he didn't want to see anyone" didn't they understand? "Dammit," he mumbled through clenched teeth, heavily got up and forced himself to go to the door, wondering who would have come to visit him and sincerely hoping that it wasn't Antonio. But in vain, as he saw the latter standing on his doorstep right after opening the door. The Spaniard was smiling as if Lovino didn't know that it was fake, however, this time, he also spotted two other guys standing behind him. Two rather familiar ones... yes, these were the two that had been in the café on the day of the incident. "Hola Lovino," greeted Antonio him shyly, when he saw the Italian's annoyed look wandering between him and his friends, who were a couple steps behind him, like some kind of escort. "What do you want?" asked Lovino straightforwardly in his piercing tone, making the Spaniard's companions grimace in annoyance. Antonio let out his habitual nervous laugh to dissipate the tension. "I... uhm... well, was wondering if you'd like to eat with us..." "No," answered Lovino, without even giving him the time to end his sentence. The other man got even more nervous. 《What's the matter with this guy's manners? How could it even occur to Antonio to invite him?》 Heard the Italian the blond one with the blue eyes think while the latter was arrogantly looking at him, not even hiding his real thoughts. "Oh, are you busy?" asked Antonio, hoping to still manage to invite him for another time. 《I don't want him to join us, he's crazy.》 This time, it were the albino's thoughts, while kicking some stones on the ground with his hands in his pockets. Lovino unconsciously took a step back, placing his hand on the doorknob and furrowing his brow even more. He didn't even pay attention to Antonio anymore. 《And what's with that look? How unpleasant...》 Thought the blond haired one, without moving from his spot, crossing his arms and examining the Italian with his blue eyes. The latter moved back another step into the house, and it seemed as if his shoulders were contracting, while his eyes showed a defensive look. "Lovino?" called him the Spaniard. 《Look, there he goes again, acting weird. It's almost scary.》 Thought the red-eyed one again, who was observing him too, as if he were judging him. 《I don't want him near me. I don't trust this guy. If Antonio wasn't so kind to everyone, he should have noticed that this guy is different from us. Just let him be already. Please, I don't want him to come. I don't want to go through another crazy scene.》 "Lovino? Are you listening?" asked Antonio and reached out to touch him, but Lovino suddenly jumped back, away from him, as though he feared that one single contact from another person and their thoughts could turn into something solid and physically hurt him. 《What's the matter? Why does he act like this?... Just like the day we met for the first time.》 《I knew it was a bad idea to invite him. Antonio, seriously, stop being so kindhearted. Becoming someone's friend just because you pity them... what nonsense.》 《We should leave before he starts acting violent. Who knows if this will end with some psychotic fit.》 The Italian was hearing the three think at the same time in front of his door and couldn't help but slam it in their faces, shaking and grinding his teeth. Even the windows trembled from the impact. Lovino moved away from the door as far as possible and finally decided to run to his bedroom, throwing himself on the bed, scaring and waking up the cat in the process. The animal jumped on the floor, as Lovino got under his blanket and tightly covered his ears. "Die! Fuck off!... Who cares what you think? Just disappear or stop breathing!" he said out loud, curling up into a ball in his bed. "Shut up forever," he finally murmured, wrapping himself tightly into the blanket, as if it could protect him from everything existing outside his room. Still standing outside, Antonio was blinking in confusion after getting the door shut in his face without any explication. His two friends just broke out laughing. "I'm surprised that you really thought he would accept. It was a bad idea, told you so," commented Francis, the blond one with the blue eyes and the French accent. "There has been something fishy about that guy from the very beginning. Are you sure it was him, who let you spend the night at his house? Maybe this leak made you hallucinate," mocked him Gilbert, the albino with the strange red eyes. "No, of course not, Lovino's a good person... I think," said the Spaniard a bit doubtfully, still staring at the closed door. "Let's leave before we starve, he won't come out," rushed him Francis and turned around, starting to walk away, but stopped when he noticed that his friend hadn't moved from the spot and was continuing to look at the door with a slightly disappointed face. Gilbert approached him and put his arm around his shoulder to drag him away from there. "Don't just stand there, you owe us a meal to make up for the scare you gave us," he said to the Spaniard, and the three guys left the house of the latter's odd neighbor behind. Obviously, Antonio hadn't told his friends anything about his recent attempt to take his own life, but they had heard about the unfortunate incident from the neighbor's gossip that somehow had reached the ears of their mothers still living in that half abandoned village. These mothers had called their sons, Antonio's best friends, on the spot, although the Spaniard himself would have preferred to rather not go through the awkward situation of inventing a long excuse for them. He kept the lie about everything being just an accident, since he didn't have the courage to admit that in reality he had done it on his own accord... or more precisely, he didn't have the courage to reveal to them that the person they believed to know didn't exist What would his friends think if they heard that he had tried to kill himself? What expression would they show him if they heard his pessimistic speeches, and how tired he was from life? If he told them how sick he was from that act they believed in so stupidly and blindly? What position would they adopt after discovering that he was more than fed up with shouldering everyone's happiness, to the point that he had started to feel repudiation towards everything that had grown into a severe depression as time passed? What would they do if they learned that their best friend was not happy... and much less strong enough to continue with the gruesome task of being alive? Perhaps... perhaps they would... turn away from him. A liar, a hypocrite and a sad being, who had given up and collapsed under the weight of his own lies and his self-imposed duty to be happy for the other's sake, was clearly someone unwanted, someone you wouldn't want to be with. Everyone counted on him, precisely due to that well constructed image of a strong and always cheerful man, an optimist, who always had an advice to give and a hand to offer... and if that image should get destroyed, they wouldn't need him anymore. A weak person was useless, good for nothing... and if nobody needs you, then the world itself doesn't need you either. Maybe it would be the best to disappear after all... in order to stop feeling, to stop dealing with that unbearable burden... to do the world a favor. "Antonio!" Gilbert brought him to back to reality by waving his hand in front of Antonio's face, who flinched. "Open the door, man. You sure are distracted," complained the German. Just now, the Spaniard noticed that they already had arrived to his doorstep. He smiled bashfully and inserted the key into the keyhole. His friends entered as though it was the most normal thing in the world, being used to that house where they had been playing together so often in the past. Or at least Francis and Antonio, who were childhood friends, Gilbert had joined them a couple of years later. They sat down on the old couch, whose filling was sticking out thanks to the claws of a certain cat, and waited until the Spaniard went to the kitchen to start cooking for them. Usually, it was mostly Francis who did the cooking, because he adored it, but this time Antonio had offered to do it, as a thank-you for their visit and also because he had planned to invite Lovino as well, also to thank him for everything the Italian had done for him that one day. Of course, he hadn't expected to receive such an instant refusal from Lovino... well... perhaps, a little bit, but nonetheless hadn't imagined that the other would slam the door in his face and without any explanation. With a sigh, Antonio began cooking the pasta and the seafood that would go with it, taking little sips from the white wine the attentive Francis had brought him as a present. Hearing the murmur of his friends' lively conversation from the living room, he was still slightly lost in thought, in thoughts that were naturally all about a certain Italian. While slightly roasting the prawns, he kept wondering about the reason of Lovino possessing such an incomprehensible personality: one day he was helping you and the next one telling you to die, one day he was alright, but then suddenly showing fear of something you didn't know. What was it that made Lovino act this way? "I wanna know," murmured Antonio, inhaling the delicious smell of the herbs and spices. "What do you want to know, mon amour?" asked Francis behind him, and stuck out his nose over the Spaniard's shoulder to better enjoy the pleasant fragrance that the food already was starting to emanate. Antonio got a little scare, as he hadn't noticed the Frenchman's presence until that moment, and immediately his innate reflex got activated, making him smile. "It's nothing, I was just talking to myself," he answered, while Gilbert joined them as well and leaned against the door frame, trying to have a little taste of the food, but each time getting slapped on the hand from either the Spaniard or the Frenchman. "Are you still worrying about your neighbor?", asked Francis, attempting to shove Gilbert, who kept stalking each ingredient, out the kitchen. "Ah... no... no, that's not really it," replied Antonio, watching his blond and his albino friend struggle. "Of course you are, it's written all over your face. Just forget him already, he absolutely clearly showed that he doesn't care about you," commented Gilbert, who managed to escape from Francis, ran up to the noodles and put one of them in his mouth, with a triumphant grin. Antonio didn't seem very satisfied with these words and just continued cooking, while Francis was wrapping his arms around his neck from behind, in one of these affectionate gestures that were typical of him and Antonio was more than used to. "Antoine, you should stop caring so much about other people. You're too kindhearted and one day this could bring you misfortune," said Francis. The Spaniard put on a little smile. Sometimes he found it a bit funny hearing these things from Francis, who made it sound as if it was a fate that could happen sometime in a distant future... without knowing that it already was his reality for a long time. "You don't have to save everyone," added Gilbert, still trying to find something to snack on. Antonio widened his eyes a little, surprised by the irony of hearing this from one of the people, who were saved by him the most frequently. "This guy will be able to solve his problems by himself, I'm sure of it," continued the German, shrugging, and opening the fridge, looking into it without any shame. "That's not it," murmured Antonio. Right, it was really not about him wanting to save Lovino, but the complete opposite: Lovino was the first one, who had ever listened to him, without even having been asked to do it, and the one who had saved him from another day of rotting from inside... he had been able to see through his lies, something even his closest friends had never achieved. "I wonder if he's feeling lonely," he commented to no one in particular. Lovino lived completely alone, just a few days ago Antonio didn't even know that they were neighbors, as he had never noticed someone living there. No one ever came for a visit and not a single soul approached that house, so he had always thought that it was abandoned. And the Italian always seemed so distrustful... as though he feared being harmed any moment. But still, in spite of everything, he had managed to approach the Spaniard, listened to him without interrupting when he had been crying like a little kid, and told him that he didn't need to force himself to smile in front of him. "Francis, take care of the rest, I'll be back in a minute," he said to his friend, handing him the wooden spoon, taking off his apron and quickly leaving the house and the two other slightly confused guys behind. Things couldn't stay like that, he absolutely had to thank him properly and let him know how much he appreciated that little helping gesture. And so, he ran to the slightly far away neighboring house and rang the door. But there was no answer, and he could also hear the telephone going off inside, without anyone answering it. "Maybe he's not home," said Antonio to himself and walked around the house, looking into the windows, until he spotted one of them slightly open. Between thick, dark curtains, he discovered Lovino's bed and a bundle under the sheets. "Lovino," the Spaniard called and saw the bundle flinch. In a brusque movement, the Italian tried to leave his net out of blankets and bedsheets, and finally his head became visible. "The hell are you doing here, you damn stalker?!" he spat, throwing one of his pillows against the window. "I'm not stalking you!" objected Antonio. The pillow had missed him. "Of course you do, and if you don't stop it right now, I'll report you," shouted Lovino at him. "I told you, I'm not! I just want to invite you to a meal," shouted Antonio back. 《Dealing with him is so hard. Why does he always seem so defensive? Or rather, no clue why I'm troubling myself with this at all.》 "And I don't want to. So just fuck off already," demanded Lovino still from his bed, watching Antonio frown like he did very rarely. "Why are you treating people like that? I don't understand you," the Spaniard said angrily and made Lovino even more furious. "I don't need you to understand me! Scram!" "But I didn't come to annoy you, I really just want to invite you to a meal as a thank-you for everything you have done for me. Why is it so hard for you to accept someone's kindness?" The Italian stayed silent for a while and then began showing that almost icy coldness in his face. From one moment to the next, his eyes seemed to gradually lose their shine. "Kindness?... The heck is that?... I don't want to hear that from someone like you, you lying hypocrite," he finally said. For Antonio, these words felt like a painful punch. 《This guy's unbearable!》 "I'm neither a liar nor a hypocrite, and I came here because I really think that you're a good guy despite acting like a bastard towards everyone, who wants to get close to you. I just... want us to be friends," he said shyly, feeling as if he was in elementary school or something. After that, the Spaniard raised his gaze to see Lovino's reaction, who, still sitting on the bed, slightly moved his head to the side and showed a little smile. An ironic, hollow, empty smile... a gesture that made Antonio shudder and created in him the impulse to back off, which he resisted. 《Scary... Lovino... is scary...》 "Friends? Like the ones you lie to every day?" the Italian asked and let his weird smile disappear. "No, thanks, I refuse. I don't need other people and I don't need you to get closer to me just because of pity. And now, scram," he growled. Antonio stared at the floor and clenched his fists. 《I better leave, it's impossible to deal with him... but...》 "Where did you get that stupid idea that I'm here because I pity you?!" he exclaimed, looking up again, acting against his own thoughts. "I came here because I really want to thank you, I'm serious, that day, when I told you everything, I felt a little bit saved... and I can't leave things like that without letting you know it. So stop being that stubborn and accept already. Por Dios, it's only a meal, not a proposal of marriage," he continued, raising his voice. A bit fed up with this, the Italian left the bed and walked towards the window. "Let me clarify one thing: the only stubborn one here is you. The only reason you were able to confide all these things to me is the fact that I'm a complete stranger to you. You don't have any obligation towards me and I don't expect anything from you like all these people around you do. That's why it was easy for you to let out all your drama in front of me, you knew that we don't have anything to do with each other, and you don't owe me anything. The end. And now spare me your kindhearted and romantic ideas and save them for someone else who needs them!" he yelled, leaning against the window frame in front of the Spaniard, who still had that angry expression on his face that only Lovino could provoke. 《You're wrong!》 The Italian was surprised a bit by hearing that scream coming from inside the Spaniard, who, jumping at the opportunity that the other one was near, suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. "You're wrong, that's not it," said Antonio. Lovino immediately tried to escape, but the Spaniard held him even tighter, very similar to their struggle the other day. "I was able to tell you all that, because I sensed that I could trust you. You somehow made me feel as if you knew it already anyway, that's the reason I did it," explained the embarrassed Antonio, loosening his grip and lightly smiling at him. "As though you had some weird power to know what I'm feeling," he finally added. It wasn't power... but a curse. "That's why you're wrong to say that. I really want to keep thinking that a person, who was able to notice that I'm not alright and even took the time to help despite barely knowing me, is a good one. Lovino, I know that you're a good guy." He tried to smile at the Italian again, but the other abruptly snatched his wrist from his grip, stepped away from the window and looked at him coldly again. "Think whatever you want about me, but stay away from me," he warned, about to go back to bed. For a moment, Antonio imagined seeing Lovino a bit sad despite the icy expression on his face. 《He looks so lonely...》 "I-If... If you don't accept my invitation, I won't let you see Tortuga anymore!", he suddenly threatened, making Lovino turn around on the spot and then look at the cat, who was laying curled up on the bed and watching the whole spectacle like a silent audience. "The hell is wrong with you, are you six years old or what?" complained Lovino, immediately picking up the animal, who didn't object. "You leave me no other choice. If you don't come with me, I won't allow you to play with Tortuga any longer. Don't think I don't know that he spends the entire day at your house when I'm at work," said Antonio, pointing at the cat that was pressed to Lovino's body. "He comes on his own accord, and you can't do that, it's childish!" snapped the Italian, though the childish one seemed to be rather he himself, judging by the way how tightly he was holding the cat in his arms. "He's my pet, I can do anything I want." Antonio didn't budge, while Lovino was furiously staring at him. Meanwhile, Tortuga himself was just looking around and waiting to be put on the floor again by the Italian. Lovino was perfectly aware that the cat wasn't his and that he didn't have any power over him, and if it was any other animal, he absolutely wouldn't care. But no, it was about that opportunistic cat that entered his house whenever he wanted, lay down next to him or on his lap and was the one he could talk to for hours, because he had the impression that Tortuga was carefully listening to him, offering him at least a bit of comfort in his world of eternal noise and loneliness. Stupid cat. Just when had he managed to grow so fond of that animal? Lovino looked with resentment at Antonio and then at Tortuga, letting out a wave of curses. The cat looked back at him, before distracting himself with a dust particle flying close to him. "Dammit, alright, you won! But only this one time. I'll eat and then leave." Antonio laughed triumphantly. 《I can't believe I just blackmailed someone using my cat, but even more incredible is that it worked. Thanks, Tortuga.》 This was what the Italian heard him thinking, while the other was calling his pet from the window. The cat obediently came to him. The Italian took his jacket and left the house, cursing again. Outside was Antonio waiting for him with that irritating smile, while Tortuga, who knew that the conflict about him had ended, went ahead, leaving the two guys behind. The Spaniard was about to say something, but as soon as he opened his mouth, Lovino raised his hand. "Be quiet, I don't wanna hear anything from you or someone else," he spat, making the other man swallow his words. They walked in silence. 《Oh well, I guess I should feel happy that I managed to get him out of his house at least. I wonder if he'll get along with Fran and Gilbo. But... does Lovino actually have friends?... A girlfriend?... I don't even know how old he is or what he's doing in his life. Ah, I want to know so many things.》 Looking in front of him, Antonio was thinking all these things. Lovino gnashed his teeth... he didn't want to hear anything, just wishing to get it over with that damn invitation and return home, to avoid any new human contact, become a hermit and hope that Antonio would soon forget about him. They arrived at the Spaniard's house and having barely entered, Francis and Gilbert immediately directed their eyes at Lovino, who wanted to turn around and run away. 《Look at that, so he did it after all. But this guy doesn't look very happy. Oh well, it seems like he doesn't even know what happiness is.》 Francis thought, while examining Lovino with his blue eyes. The Italian stayed in the corridor and Antonio went ahead. "Guys, this is Lovino, my neighbor," he presented the other to his friends. "We already know. He slammed his door in our faces not very long ago," remarked Gilbert with a grin. 《Will he act weirdly again?... I can almost sense that he wants to kill us with that look.》 "Don't say that, Gilbert, it wasn't on purpose," Antonio wanted to defend Lovino. "It was," objected the Italian, still standing in the corridor. Gilbert laughed dryly. 《Wow, he's so honest... or rather cynical.》 Lovino heard the albino think, while the latter calmly sat down at the table, followed by Francis and Antonio. The Spaniard stopped, when he noticed that his guest hadn't moved from his spot. "What's the matter? Come, take a seat," he said, approaching the Italian, who was distrustfully staring at the other two. He didn't want to... didn't want to be close to them and continue to hear their useless talks and everything they were thinking about him, didn't want to feel nausea caused by unstoppable noise nor the migraine drilling his head. He didn't want to stay there. He wanted to go home. "Lovino? Are you alright?" asked the worried Antonio, as he placed his hand on the Italian's arm and felt him tremble. Lovino moved away from the contact, nodded, and sat down at the table. And just like he had thought, the thoughts of everyone present in the room suddenly were about him, despite talking about completely other things. Suppositions, critique, questions about his odd and antisocial behavior. Lovino just concentrated on rolling the pasta on his fork and pretended to rest his face on his palm, while in reality he was covering one of his ears, a gesture that conveyed him a false sense of security. He didn't say anything, just ate and took sips of the wine that went with the food. "Tell us, Lovino, what do you do in your life?" asked the arrogant blond. The Italian looked up from his half empty plate. "Breathing," he answered simply and put another bite in his mouth. Gilbert started laughing. "What an ambiguous response... but I meant to ask whether you work or study. This kind of things," said the Frenchman, tilting his glass of wine. 《Surprise me, Lovino. Why do you fascinate Antonio so much?》 He thought, looking at him with condescending eyes. Lovino sat up straight. "No, I won't tell you what I do for a living, nor what I do in my life just to satisfy your curiosity, to give you a reason to mock me or to follow that damn protocol that tells you to pretend being interested in any detail of my life. Because I don't give a shit about who you are, and I think that if there is something that you really want to know, then it's the reason I'm sitting here with you. If that's it, then you better ask the idiot next to you," grumbled Lovino, redirecting his attention to the food. There was an awkward silence until Gilbert couldn't hold back his laughter, finding it funny to hear someone talking that way to the always gallant and chivalrous Francis. "Sorry," he apologized when the blond glared at him. Antonio just shrank up in his seat, feeling really uncomfortable, which got even worse when Francis stopped piercing Gilbert with his eyes and looked at him. "Good idea. So why did you invite Lovino to eat with us, if it's more than obvious that he doesn't even want to be here?" he asked. Antonio let out his nervous giggles and looked over to Lovino, as if asking for help, but the other one was way too concentrated on his wine glass and the prawns on his fork. "Ah... well, I wanted to thank him, eh... because it was Lovino, who saved me when this gas leak happened. If he hadn't found me, then I don't think I would be sitting here with you now," the Spaniard said with a big smile, as though he was happy and incredibly thankful to be alive... and not frustrated to not having ended in a coffin, as he really felt. In the middle of his acting, he perceived the Italian's piercing gaze and, as if his eyes were a magnet, felt forced to look back at them. Lovino was staring reproachfully at him and with a hint of anger, since he knew that Antonio was lying. 《Please be quiet, please be quiet. I beg you, Lovino, don't say anything.》 Thought the Spaniard desperately, quickly averting his eyes from Lovino, who effectively didn't say a word, but noticed how Francis' and Gilbert's faces suddenly softened. Especially Francis' face, that didn't seem that arrogant anymore. "If that's the case, then I should thank you as well. Thanks, Lovino, for saving my best friend," he said with an honest smile and mussed up Antonio's hair affectionately. 《What would I do without Antonio?... I don't even want to imagine it.》 Francis thought, looking lovingly at his best friend. Gilbert, for his part, got up from his seat and went to the Spaniard, wrapping his arm around the other's neck in a rough hug that looked more like as if he would strangle him. "So basically, if it wasn't for this guy, you would now be a corpse. Why didn't you say so sooner? Thanks, Lovino." 《Don't you dare scare us like this again, you Spanish idiot, I wouldn't be able to bear it.》 And here they were, Antonio's two best friends, showering him with affection while thinking how much he meant to them, and Antonio himself, who was drowning in remorse and fatalistic thoughts, feeling worse and worse with himself. Suddenly, they heard an unusual laugh, coming from someone they didn't even deem capable of laughing at all. The three guys turned their heads to Lovino, who was letting out that weird laughter, resting his face on his palm again, covering his ear and pecking at his food. The others kept silent... there was something in that way of laughing that made them slightly uncomfortable. "What's so funny?" asked Francis suddenly. Lovino tried to calm down. "It's just that it's incredible how hypocritical you are. Do you seriously believe in your own lies?" he answered, still laughing. But the others didn't find that very funny. "Lovino, don't..." Antonio tried to stop him from saying any more. The Italian's smile quickly disappeared, giving way to an ill-humored and cold expression again. "You just see what you want to see. Someone could be dying right here, but you're so focused on yourselves that you wouldn't even notice, as long as your lives or the idea you have of them aren't affected. And the worst thing is that the person, who's suffering right before your damn eyes, is determined to play along to not bother the flow of your existences, so that you can keep being happy and content, thinking that "everything is fine". This is what I find so funny," he explained, got up and headed to the door. "Thanks for the meal," he spat and left. The two friends looked at Antonio, who was pale as a ghost. "What did he mean by that?", inquired Gilbert. The scared Antonio shook his head multiple times. "No clue... excuse me for a bit." He got up as well and left the house to follow Lovino. "Lovino, wait!" he shouted, but the Italian started walking even faster, so the Spaniard ran up to him and stopped right in front of him, not letting him through. "The hell did you tell them that?!" he yelled furiously at the other man, who frowned more and more. "I think it's better to ask yourself why you didn't," replied Lovino trying to go away, but Antonio didn't allow him to move from the spot. "Because I don't want them to know! They can't find out, I already told you that they have a completely different idea of me and telling them the truth would be like betraying their trust," he explained. Lovino let out a guttural groan that came from the pit of his stomach, and finally exploded. "And why do you have to be the one who carries everything on his shoulders?! Maybe I don't have any clue about bonds between people, but as far as I know, friends need to accept and help each other, it's not supposed to be something one-sided and whatever nonsense I heard from Feliciano. If that's really true, then why it's you who has to be alright for their sake and not the other way round? In which sense would you betray them, if you just admitted that you're only human and have problems like every other damn person in this damn world? God, it's so frustrating!" yelled the Italian. Antonio just blinked a couple of times, without really knowing what to say. Lovino took a deep breath and stared directly into the other's green eyes. "You irritate me, you frustrate me and drive me crazy with all your stupidity. My brain just doesn't arrive to grasp how one day, you reach the limits of your patience, to the point that you want to kill yourself, but then, in spite of everything, still continue with that fucking farce without opening your mouth to tell the ones, who you consider your friends, how you feel. It's almost painful to watch you pretend to be alright for their sake. They're not little kids anymore, you don't have to be that considerate of them. Why can't you get in your goddamn head once and for all that it's not your obligation to be strong?!" he continued, slapping the Spaniard's forehead hard with his palm. Antonio stumbled one step back, feeling that slap rather as a moral one instead of physical. Lovino went around him and left, still muttering curses, insults and perhaps one or another dialogue with himself. "Thank you!" he heard Antonio shout. The Italian grumpily turned around and saw the Spaniard holding his forehead with one hand, right where he had been hit just now. Once again, he seemed to be about to break out into tears. Lovino was wondering if that guy was like a girl or something like that, always crying that easily (at least in front of him). 《Thank you for worrying about me.》 "Go to hell," answered the Italian, wanting to resume walking. "Lovino, can we be friends?" asked him Antonio. The other stopped with his back turned to him for a moment, then finally turned around once again. It was impossible to decipher the expression on his face, and for a second it seemed so absent to Antonio... so sad and lonely. "I already told you that I don't need friends nor people at all... I don't need lies," replied Lovino and then finally went home, leaving Antonio behind with a slight feeling of being abandoned in the pit of his stomach. 《I already consider you my friend.》 What nonsense... things like friendship and relations with other people were something Lovino not only detested, but feared. Being with someone else was nothing but painful, it was always the same in the end.