The dark side of your heart

Antonio was holding Tortuga in front of him, at his eye level. As expected, the cat was looking back firmly. "Listen well, Tortuga," he began in an authoritarian tone. "We can't continue seeing Lovino, understood?" The cat meowed, as if he was questioning that order. Antonio softened his features and put the cat down on his lap, starting to lovingly stroke the animal's head and ears, while letting out a sad sigh. "Don't look at me like that, it's for our own good. Remember that Lovino already has someone else... it wouldn't be nice to disturb him when he's with that other person, so we won't," explained Antonio, getting quieter and feeling his everyday fatigue even more than usually, making him curve his shoulders and back. The cat meowed again, which for a moment sounded like an objection. "Yes, that would be best. We don't know Lovino for a very long time yet, so it's still not too late to forget him. Don't worry, we'll get by... we always do, right?" He took the cat's forepaws and put on his typical smile, once again creating an image of a fake happiness that could deceive anybody. Anybody, except for one person. "Damn it," said Antonio, his voice full of despise that didn't suit his happy face at all. Slowly, his smile disappeared, and his eyes turned dull again, with emptiness emerging in his green irises. He let go of the cat, who jumped from his lap, and laid down on the couch, where he had been sitting, letting his arms hang out motionlessly. "I was so sick of that shit and now have to do it all again... How should I look Lovino in the eye when I'll meet him?" He sat back up, smiling and beaming once again. "Hola Lovi, how are you? Fine, I hope. And me? Oh, really great! You know, my wish to die's still getting stronger with each day, but I didn't try it again, 'cause I thought that finally something good was happening to me, but no, I was wrong. So I started thinking again that my life is nothing but a disgusting pile of trash. Ah! But don't you worry, maybe next week I'll go camping in the forest, where no one could disturb me, and this time manage to hang myself on a tree in order to end all of this once and for all," narrated the Spaniard with that cheerful expression that made his words seem like an amusing speech. Then he let himself fall on the couch again, this time on his stomach, and let out a long, muffled scream, using up all the air in his lungs. After that, he just stayed there, trying to catch his breath with difficulty. "I really, really believed that something good was happening to me... what a fool I was. God, just kill me already," he said into the couch, feeling a stabbing pain in his chest, every time he remembered that scene with Lovino and these unknown hands on the latter's back. Now, he also sensed his palms tingle and slightly moved his fingers, trying to imagine how the Italian's skin would feel like. But that thought only made it worse. "Stop it," he said to himself, but it was impossible, so he started to think that, apart from a depressed poor devil, he was turning into a masochist as well. Meanwhile, and not far away from him, Lovino was having lunch with his brother and suddenly sneezed various times. "Ve~ Did you catch a cold?" asked him Feliciano. Lovino shook his head, rubbing his nose. "Oh, then it means that someone's thinking about you," commented the younger one in a playful tone, making his brother frown, who was about to call these words nonsense. It was impossible to know something like that just from a sneeze, and besides, who would ever think about him, except for Feliciano himself? Oh, but there actually was someone else... "That guy," said Lovino out loud, noticing only now that the Spaniard hadn't visited him in two days, a real record, since he had been doing that daily for almost two months, no matter if it rained or stormed. "Again this one you're cheating on me with?" asked Feliciano, getting a punch on the head. "I already told you not to speak as if we were a couple, you idiot," scolded him Lovino. The younger twin whimpered. "But brother, it's rare to hear you talk about other people. Ve~ and I thought I was the only man in your life," he said with an exaggerated disappointment, resting his face in both of his palms. "You really want a black eye, don't you?" threatened him the older one, punching him with his fist on his arm, making him jump. "Ouch! No need to hit me!" screeched Feliciano. His brother snorted and left the table. "I'll go out for a while, be right back," he announced and headed to the door, wondering himself what the hell he was actually doing and ignoring his brother's questions, who was rubbing his punched arm. In reality, Lovino was supposed to be glad that that leech Antonio had found himself something better to do than to bother him all the time, that's why the Italian didn't get in the slightest, why he was now thinking about that Spaniard of all people and feeling his absence. This wasn't right, it didn't suit his personality at all. He just wasn't like that. But still, there he was, walking to the other's house, because the fact that he hadn't seen him in two days made him uneasy. But he justified himself that he just wanted to make sure that the Spaniard hadn't killed himself for real this time and his cat as well. Yes, only that. Just to check whether that bastard was still alive. Nothing more. His feet quickly led him to the front door, and he felt like a complete idiot for having come there. But his body didn't seem to have the intention to obey his mind, and before he knew it, he was already ringing at the door, letting out constant curses. It took the other one a few minutes to open it. Minutes that Lovino could have used to leave, pretending that it had never even occurred to him to worry about Antonio. But now it was too late: Antonio was opening the door and stared at him with his eyes wide open like plates. 《Lovino! What's he doing here? And now, of all time, when I don't want to see him.》 At the moment, when that thought left Antonio (the same moment when the door opened) Lovino couldn't help but frown and perceive something similar to a strange unwellness. As though someone would apply a lot of pressure on his chest. But of course. It was a stupid idea to have come here after all, nobody was ever happy to see him, only Feliciano, but that was different. What an idiot he had been. How could he have believed even for a second that the other would be pleased? It was always the same, he better should learn his lesson already. "Ah... Hola Lovino," greeted him Antonio and started smiling, as if someone had turned on a switch in him. "Unusual that you come to my house. Is something the matter?" he asked as casually as always. The line between the Italian's brows got even deeper while he spoke. 《No, no, no... don't come here! Why did you have to come? Go home that instant.》 "No... not really," replied Lovino, searching now for an excuse. "It's just that I haven't seen Tortuga lately and started to think that maybe you did kill yourself this time and something has happened to him." His harsh voice sounded a bit dull. He could see Antonio's smile getting weaker for a split second. 《I see, so you only care about the cat. Better go home and let me drown in my misery by myself.》 "He's fine, he just wasn't in the mood to leave the house, I think. Now I'll be careful to always feed him. Was that it or can I do something else for you?" he asked, talking to him like he always did, without showing even the tiniest bit of what was going on in his mind. Lovino got even angrier and felt betrayed... but didn't exactly know why. He had already gone through this a bunch of times, that moment where he discovered that people's friendliness was just an act, that the smiles and good actions were part of a protocol... so there really was no reason to be surprised about the fact that Antonio was already fed up with pretending, although his thoughts had been completely different a few days ago. "That was all, everything I wanted to know," answered Lovino, still frowning and staring at Antonio with something like distrust. "Alright, then see you later!" 《And now go, leave and never come back. Stop doing that to me.》 The Spaniard was about to close the door, but Lovino quickly put his foot and hand into the gap, not letting him do it. "Wait!" he suddenly exclaimed, surprising Antonio a bit, who stopped before he could crush the other's hand or foot. Lovino once again had no clue, what the hell he was actually doing. The Italian took a deep, but labored breath, scratched the door's wood slightly with his hand and looked at the Spaniard, who got intimidated by these chocolate brown eyes staring at him and digging into the very depths of his soul, disarming him completely and making him feel vulnerable. "Don't you have anything to say to me?" asked Lovino. The other man flinched and immediately averted his gaze from him. "Me? Uhm, no..." answered Antonio with a trembling voice. 《Of course I do! I have a thousand things to say to you... but it's not worth even mentioning them, after all you told me again and again that you don't care about others... and why would you be interested in what a guy like me has to say, anyway? Aren't you too busy with someone else?》 "Are you sure?" insisted Lovino, pressing on the door, since he felt that Antonio was trying to close it again. "Yes, what would I have to say to you? You were the one who came to me. I'm alright," said the Spaniard, staring at the floor, visibly struggling to pronounce the last sentence. "Don't lie," grumbled Lovino through clenched teeth, almost snarling. That was a lie he was not willing to take. The other one finally raised his head and his lips curved into that cheerful and annoying smile again. "I'm not lying," he protested. "And not to be rude, but you should go home, there's someone waiting for you, I think." The now furious Lovino punched the door. "So what if my brother's waiting for me?! I won't move until you tell me what's going on with you!" he yelled and noticed that Antonio was looking at him weirdly, as though he hadn't really processed his words. "Brother?" he asked a bit incredulously. "So that person who was staying with you these last days is your brother?" "Yes. Why is this important?" 《Of course it is! Do you really think I'll believe that your brother sleeps in your bed and hugs you like that? You're a terrible liar, Lovino.》 "It's just that... well... I was thinking that it was rather someone like your..." But before he could end the sentence with "your lover", someone interrupted them. "Brother!" called Feliciano, who had left the house to look for his twin. Lovino stepped away from the door and tried to look normal. Antonio was staring at Feliciano with wide open eyes. Ah, yes, now he remembered that Lovino did in fact have a brother. He had met him during the incident in the café, but never noticed that the two of them looked that much alike. "Is something wrong? It's odd for you to leave like that," asked the younger Italian, approaching Lovino and, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, wrapping his arms around the older's hips, hugging him from behind, pressing his chest to the other's back and placing his chin on his shoulder. They rather seemed like a couple than like brothers, but their appearance revealed that they were indeed related to each other. And to Antonio's surprise, he didn't see any reaction from Lovino, neither stepping aside nor showing disgust, like he would have done with any other person. No, he just calmly and naturally accepted that gesture... exactly like he had seen it through that window back then. Feliciano folded his hands over his brother's stomach and directed his almond colored eyes to Antonio, who reflexively straightened his back, feeling now the gaze of two pairs of eyes on himself. The darker ones were still staring at him as if they wanted to perforate him, while the lighter ones... had a look in them that was hard to describe: not hostile, but still intense. "This is my brother Feliciano," presented Lovino, moving his head slightly to the side to let the younger one rest his chin more comfortably on his shoulder. "Mmmmmm... Brother, I think I've seen that guy somewhere before," remarked Feliciano, blinking, but not stopping to stare at Antonio. 《So... it really was his brother... He told me the truth! I'm so glad, just his brother, that's it.》 At that moment, Lovino was sure that he didn't understand a word from what was going through Antonio's head. Not a single one. Why had he been so angry and was now suddenly so relieved? And why was he so happy to know that Feliciano was his brother? What did he expect to hear instead? "Ni-Nice to meet you, I'm Antonio, Lovino's neighbor," said the Spaniard. The tone of his voice had returned to normal, and he even looked more relaxed. Feliciano didn't respond immediately, just continued to examine him. Of course, his look was different from his brother's, but still just as piercing. Feliciano seemed as if he was trying to reveal everything inside Antonio as well, making him a bit nervous. "Let's go, Brother, it's getting late, and I need to leave soon," said the younger Italian then, finally releasing Lovino from his hug, but instead taking his hand in a very childish manner. Lovino didn't object. "Are you really sure you don't have anything to tell me?" insisted the older Vargas brother for the last time, being pulled by Feliciano. This time, Antonio's smile was genuine. "I am." 《I think, I've never felt so relieved in my whole life. What an idiot I was for making all that drama just because of a misunderstanding. Sorry Tortuga, of course we can continue visiting Lovi.》 "Lovi?" repeated the mentioned one through clenched teeth, but forgot about that abbreviation of his name when he tried to comprehend that thought's context. For real, that Spaniard was honestly the weirdest person out of everyone he happened to "meet" and listen to during his life. "So he's the guy you were talking about," said Feliciano on their way to the older one's house. "Where have I seen him before?", he wondered, while swinging his and Lovino's hand back and forth. "In that café, on the day I went to town for the last time... he was there," answered Lovino, without letting go of Feliciano's hand, but trying to get him to stop the swinging. "Oh right, I remember now... he was one of the people who thought bad things about you," commented Feliciano in his usual singsong-voice. But Lovino abruptly stopped, making his brother do it as well. "Don't mix it up, Feliciano, back then this dumbass didn't know me yet. Don't jump to conclusions," he scolded his twin, resuming his way. 《I don't like him.》 Lovino heard his brother suddenly think that and looked at him. Judging by the the other's smile, he perfectly knew that his thought had confused his brother. "I don't like people who hurt you, even if they do it without knowing you," added Feliciano, this time out loud, and squeezed Lovino's hand, when they finally arrived at the latter's house. Lovino didn't like that part of Feliciano, that part that reminded him so much of himself. Feliciano wasn't like him, he still believed in people, believed that they could be good... but when it was about someone being against Lovino in any way, his philosophy changed, and he became just like him... they were twins, after all. The older Vargas passed the afternoon engrossed in thought. He was still trying to find a reason for Antonio's strange behavior and thoughts. Unbelievable that others called him weird, if there were people like that Spaniard in the world, contradicting themselves in an instant. He should finally give up on attempting to understand Antonio, but a persistent curiosity was drilling through his head, and it was absolutely annoying to feel like that. "Brother, it's time for me to go." Feliciano brought him back to reality by waving his hand in front of his face. Lovino blinked a couple of times. "I'll accompany you to the bus stop," he said, coming to again. But the younger one refused. "Don't bother, Ludwig'll pick me up, he just arrived," Feliciano replied with a silly laugh. Lovino positioned his fists at both sides of the younger's head, burying his knuckles into the other's temples. "The fuck's that idiot picking you up?! Tell him to keep his distance from you!" he reprimanded him angrily, while his twin was whimpering and screaming. "But there's nothing bad about it, he's my friend and I asked him this favor," said Feliciano crying and sobbing, struggling with his twin to free himself. Between loud snorts, Lovino finally let go of him and looked at him with a strict expression on his face. "I'm serious, Feli, keep your distance from that asshole," he warned Feliciano, who nodded, however, Lovino perfectly knew that he did it solely to please him. "Don't worry about that, you're the only one for me," joked Feliciano, wiping off the tears that had escaped him during his brother's attack earlier and smiling childishly again. But a few seconds later, he relaxed his features to the point that his face looked a bit stoic. "However, I wonder... what should I do if I happen to fall in love... or you?" he commented out of nowhere. But he didn't give Lovino even the time to consider that possibility, quickly wrapping him in a hug. "See you later, and don't you stop calling me back, or I'll come visit you every weekend," he threatened his brother, squeezing him and then taking his things, heading to the door. When he opened it, Ludwig was already standing there and greeted Lovino with a movement of his head. But the other didn't react, just said goodbye to Feliciano, lightly ruffling his hair. Then he watched the younger one giving the German a warm hug as well, making the latter blush, and then turning around into his direction again, waving his hand before getting into Ludwig's car. Watching them drive off, Lovino let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he had his comfy solitude back, without any complicated thoughts and everything all types of relations brought with them. It was better like this, not having to worry about these difficult ways of creating bonds with others... after all, he didn't need them. His routine had returned to normal and his days again passed without any change, what, of course, included Antonio's presence in his house as well. Lovino didn't even bother getting angry anymore, having resigned himself to the fact that the Spaniard had become something like another piece of furniture in his living room. "Hey Lovino, can I ask you a favor?" asked Antonio one evening, while the Italian was searching for a new job in the newspaper. He had been unemployed for quite a long time now and his savings were running out. Lovino raised the gaze of his dark eyes from above the newspaper to look at him. "No," he answered coldly. "Eh?! But I didn't even tell you yet, what kind of favor," complained the Spaniard. "And I don't need to know it. No means no," repeated Lovino. Antonio approached him, pushed the newspaper down that the other was still holding in his hands, and looked at him with imploring eyes. "Don't be like that, you're the only one I can count on." "Go ask your friends, let them do something for you at least once in their lives," protested the Italian, hearing the other man complain and pout. "I can't! It needs to be you!" 《Come on, Lovino! Don't let me down!》 "But for what, dammit? Do you plan to bury a dead body or murder someone?" questioned the irritated Lovino. Now Antonio seemed very awkward and looking for the right words. "You see, it's that my mother'll come to visit me and other relatives as well, so..." "So you want me to meet your mommy and the rest of your family, in order to pretend together with you that you lead a perfect life and that you're an exemplary guy, who's filled to the brim with happiness and optimism, so they continue to believe your beautiful lies," completed Lovino in an overly sarcastic tone. He could clearly see how his cruel remark had affected Antonio, from the way the other had lowered his head and was playing with his fingers. "No... that I can do on my own," he replied quietly. "I just need you at my side to not lose my temper and slam a chair in everyone's face. Or, at least, to be able to endure that day without collapsing. I have to, for my mom's sake, however, it's getting more and more difficult each time. But if you're there with me, I think I can do it," admitted Antonio, still twisting his fingers, and without looking at Lovino, who threw the newspaper aside. "I have a better idea: tell everybody how you really feel and also that Santa Claus doesn't exist, while you're at it. I won't cover up your lies," exclaimed Lovino, getting really angry now. "I can't! You don't know my family! Lovino, please, this is important, if I have to stay alone with them, I'll go crazy," whined Antonio. 《Hear everything they expect from me, do everything they want, be the person they want to see... you don't know, what it's like to feel all that pressure.》 Oh, and how he did, Lovino knew it better than anyone. Did Antonio really believe that he didn't know what it meant to pretend, to act like a normal person, despite knowing that he was everything but that? What it meant to hide a secret for 23 years of his life? He knew, what pressure was, he knew, what being forced to act was... he knew it... "Alright, but never ask me a favor again." And since he knew it so perfectly, he was also aware how much you need at least someone at your side, in order to not break down. He had Feliciano... but what about Antonio? Whom did he have? "Thanks, Lovino! You're the best, I really can't thank you enough!" And this was how Lovino found himself sitting in Antonio's house and about to get a migraine that wouldn't abandon him for the entire day. Only half an hour had passed since his arrival, and he already could barely bear it. The more guests came, the more voices had started to accumulate in his head: uncles and aunts, cousins, friends of the family and, of course, the Spaniard's mother. Finally, he had a chance to meet the often mentioned señora Carriedo, who looked like a female version of Antonio with a few more wrinkles. She wore an old dress and a flowered shawl, and her hair was in a bun with a decorative comb. Her hair color was the same as her son's, except for a few silver strands, and the two of them also had identical green eyes and the same smile... the same fake smile. Lovino had greeted the poor woman in a dry and sharp tone, hearing in her thoughts that she had to move away because of health issues, leaving her son alone in that place under the pretext that she didn't want to sell or abandon the house, where she had raised him and lived with her late husband. 《He probably thinks that I'm a bad mother and an egoist, but he's too young to understand.》 The Italian had perceived that thoughts, while he was quickly shaking her hand. Of course he did, and she knew it due to the icy look he had shot her. The same look he had directed at everyone presented to him. Every single one of these people was like a viper in a snakepit, spitting poison with their thoughts alone. It was incredible that they shared the same blood. 《So this is where Antonio lives, this place doesn't change and looks worse and worse. Doesn't this boy do absolutely anything? He doesn't seem to aspire to higher things, if he's still living here, he didn't even bother finishing school. He doesn't have a good job and his mother has to keep living from his father's life insurance, this is so pathetic. And he was such a good boy when he was small, that's really sad. If he still had his father, maybe that wouldn't have happened, however it doesn't seem like his mother raised him well.》 This was what Lovino heard while passing from relative to relative, and it made him so sick that he had fled to the kitchen and was now sitting on a stool and scratching the table. He was still quietly hearing the people's nostalgic conversation, their "We haven't seen you for so long, look how you've grown!". They hugged each other tightly, remembered old days, and Antonio, as though he was everyone's puppet, was smiling openly, listening to their comments about his appearance and enduring them patting his back and pinching his cheeks. And at the same time begging for everything to end and for everyone to go home... Lovino knew it, because he kept hearing the Spaniard's inner screams for thirty minutes. Sitting in the kitchen, the Italian bit the tip of his tongue with force, because that allowed him to forget for a few seconds that his head was about to explode. Having already produced a good number of scratches on the table with his nails, he was murmuring things between clenched teeth about wanting everyone to finally shut up, making the people, who came into the kitchen, keep a considerable distance from him. He was in pain, his temples were throbbing, the words that were oozing with hypocrisy were almost perforating his head and, once again, everything was becoming an overwhelming noise that blared with full force into his eardrums. Enough, enough, enough. Why couldn't they shut up already?! The Italian doubled over until his head was touching the table and scratched the piece of furniture so hard that the nail of his index finger broke and made him bleed. His jaws were so tightly clenched that they started hurting as well, as he tried to bear it, but everyone just kept talking at the same time. "Hey Antonio, come here, let's talk for a bit," said an overweight man with a hoarse voice, indicating a free place on the couch, and the Spaniard went there obediently like a little doggy, smiling the whole time, just as he had been trained to. "Tell us about your life, we haven't seen you since you were a little boy. Say, do you already have a girlfriend?" asked the man, while thinking whether his nephew really was "not normal" like the rumors in the family said. "Eh... no, I haven't been so lucky yet," answered Antonio, giggling nervously and slightly blushing. 《Why do these people only care about things like that? They're just looking for something new to criticize... that's the only thing they ever do.》 "What a pity, and you're such a handsome boy," added one of his aunts. "I should present you to my friends' daughters." 《No thanks, if all of them are such harpies like you, I prefer to stay single.》 "That would be nice, I hope I have some free time in the next days," Antonio continued with the act. "Hey Isabel, why aren't you worried about the fact that your son's still single at his age? I don't remember him ever showing us a girlfriend," asked the same unpleasant man Antonio's mother this time, who had a gentle smile on her face. "My son is very reserved regarding topics like that, so I try not to intrude too much into his personal life," she answered with a calm and educated voice, approached Antonio and gently took his hand with her both. 《Mamá, if you only knew about everything happening to me... a few years ago, it would've been great if you had intruded into my life, but now it's already too late for that, I think.》 "I only want him to be happy the way he wants to... You are happy right now, right, cariño?" Lovino heard that question and raised his gaze to look at the beaming Antonio, like everyone else did. And that damn liar nodded. "Yes, I'm very happy." 《Someone please shoot me in the head. This instant.》 His mother lovingly kissed his cheek and clang to his arm, without letting go of his hand. Everyone pretended to be moved by that sweet scene... everyone except Lovino, who could hear the thoughts beneath these well-written scripts that all of them had perfectly memorized for that occasion, for the scene of the big happy family... it made him nauseous... almost made him puke right then and there. "Sorry mamá, I'll go check on Lovino, he still didn't come out of the kitchen," excused himself Antonio, or, more precisely, used that as a pretext to flee from that suffocating atmosphere. Having arrived to the kitchen, he spotted Lovino bent over the table, scratching it with both hands like a desperate cat. "Lovino, are you alright?" he asked, noticing that the Italian was trembling. The latter reacted on the spot, sat up and turned around to look at him. Suddenly, Lovino grabbed Antonio's hand and practically dragged him away, running with him to the stairs that led to the upper floor. "Wait! Where are we going?" asked the frightened Antonio, since the Italian was clasping his hand so hard that it felt as if he could rip off his arm any moment. Lovino swung open every door, until he reached a room that seemed to be the main bedroom. He dragged Antonio in, went to the big closet standing there and roughly pushed the Spaniard inside, following him and closing the door. And nothing more: now he just was standing there, still trembling. "What... what are we doing here?" Antonio dared to ask after a while, because the other man didn't say a word, instead just continuing to clutch his hand so tightly that his fingers were already red and cold. "You can't hear them here," answered Lovino with a forced voice. "You don't need to listen to all the things these damn people say about you." Antonio didn't respond immediately, but calmed down. "Oh, my family isn't that discreet after all, huh? Yes, their favorite hobby is talking about my mom and me, and not really quietly, as it seems," he said, giggling. No, it wasn't about the loudness of their voices. "But why are you allowing it? Why are you letting them talk shit about you?" asked Lovino, whose breathing was returning to normal. The other one thought about it for a while. "No clue... maybe I don't really care, or am already used to it. As long as I pretend not to notice anything they say, it's fine." He was laughing again. "NO, IT'S NOT!" yelled Lovino. "They don't know anything, anything, anything about you. They don't have a clue about everything you went through and why you are like this right now. Not a single clue, and still have the insolence to open their mouths!.. They don't know... they don't have the right to call you all that, as if they were the judges of your life, as if they had the power to judge you for things that aren't your fault." Without really understanding why, his eyes filled with tears. Antonio was speechless. While Lovino didn't even know if he was still talking about him or rather about himself. "You're right, it's wrong of them to do that," agreed Antonio finally, squatting down without letting go of Lovino's hand, who had to bend down a bit. "I just can't do anything about it... but you know what, Lovino? Right now, I'm very happy," continued the Spaniard, hiding his face between his knees. But the Italian could see the color of his ears turning a deep shade of red. "What? Why?" he asked, completely baffled. "Because you got so angry for my sake, which means you do actually care about me, even if it's only a bit. You care about the real me and not the image everyone has about me. And this makes me happy, though that's a bit stupid considering the situation." After that, both of them fell completely silent. Not even the Spaniard dared to break the atmosphere, but after a long while he got up, his face returning to his normal color. Only a slight blush stayed on his cheeks. "I have to return to my family. You can go home now if you want. Thanks for coming," he said with a smile, slowly letting go of Lovino's hand. "Mind if I stay here a bit longer?" asked the Italian a bit shyly. The still cheerful Spaniard shook his head. Then Antonio left the closet and Lovino stayed behind, a feeling of nostalgia befalling him, as he found himself alone in that narrow closet that got even darker when the other closed the door. Because the Spaniard thought that by "here" Lovino had meant the room, not the closet. The Italian sat down, crossed his arms and rested them on his knees, letting everything be absorbed by the silence. Then he placed his forehead on his arms and took a few deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling rhythmically, in order to soothe his headache and that abnormally fast pounding of his heart. Happy... Antonio had said that he was happy and didn't lie. Happy... happiness... making someone feel happy... Lovino had never thought being able to do that, for the simple reason that he was himself, Lovino Vargas. "Happy," he repeated, and his heart beat so hard against his chest that he let out a pained sound and curled up more and more, just waiting for the darkness and silence to devour him as well. Because he had no idea what the hell was happening to him.