The dark side of your heart

Sometimes it was incredible what a massive turn life could take. Lovino Vargas, the guy who could proclaim anytime and anywhere how much he hated humanity, was now seeing himself in the arms of another person who wasn't his brother. And Antonio Fernández Carriedo, the guy who was more than sure that he would never have anything good in his life, any trace of hope to cling to or even the tiniest bit of real happiness, was absolutely beaming right now from a joy that was as real as the person he was holding in his arms. Neither of them knew how it all had happened, nothing of it had been planned, but they didn't want to find out, just continuing living their lives starting from that one day, when they somehow ended up confessing their feelings to each other... or at least Antonio did, Lovino had only insinuated it. A certain time had already passed since said day, and spending their evenings in each other's company wasn't anything strange for the two of them anymore (nor annoying for the Italian). No, on the contrary, they used every free minute they had, and for them the term "use" meant a long round of kisses and caresses. The new couple was sitting in Lovino's house on the couch, once again busy with one of these extremely long kisses Antonio adored so much. The Spaniard's arms were wrapped around the Italian's hips, while the other had placed his on his partner's shoulders, as he still wasn't really sure where to put them while kissing. From time to time, Antonio was hugging Lovino closer to his body and always ended up attacking the Italian's neck, a sensitive spot he had recently discovered, when the latter wasn't expecting it. He pressed small, slow kisses near Lovino's collarbone, happily noticing how the other was trying to suppress some embarrassing sounds and having goosebumps. In moments like these, Antonio was showing a slightly mean grin on his lips, still surprised about the fact how innocent the Italian could turn out to be regarding physical contact. Just looking at all the colors on the latter's face was a real spectacle for him. A spectacle that was so cute it would be able to cause him a cardiac arrest one day. 《I wonder if I'm the first person he's doing this with. Now that I think about it, I've actually never asked him if he had any relationships before.》 This was what Lovino heard him think, while he was sensing what the Spaniard's lips were doing to his neck. Things that made him feel so good and at the same time so mortified. Naturally, he would never confess to him that he was his very first in a lot of ways. Never, he would rather die than say it out loud. The Italian suddenly buried his fingers into Antonio's shoulders when the pleasant sensations got too intense and that bastard had the damn idea to put his hands under his shirt, wanting to touch his bare back. At that moment, an alarm bell started ringing in Lovino's head, and he felt a light panic attacking him due to someone else touching him who wasn't his brother. Once again was Antonio putting his thumbs under Lovino's clothes, carefully, to not upset him, though the other already knew what he was plotting, and hating it, since it made him feel strange. The Italian obviously wasn't naive enough not to be aware that the Spaniard wanted more than just a few touches through his shirt, and it wasn't as if Lovino didn't want it himself, but each time there was a blockade in his head and he didn't have a clue what to do... only now was he realizing, what his complete isolation had done to him. But he was saved by the telephone's ringing that surprised them both and took them out of their intimate world, where the temperature had started to rise already. Lovino used that opportunity to abruptly separate himself from Antonio, who was a bit dumbstruck for a few seconds, but immediately understood that Lovino was escaping again. "Wow, so many calls, that person must be very tenacious," the Spaniard commented, watching Lovino walk towards the object (arranging his clothes and trying to return to his normal skin color), taking the telephone receiver and hanging up in that very instant without even answering. "I'd rather say that he doesn't have a life," he said, and headed to the kitchen to fix them a snack. The Spaniard reacted with a smile. Antonio had only recently discovered that strange behavior of Lovino's and had tried once to ask him about that person, who was calling him basically every day, but the Italian just changed the topic instead of answering. There were many things the Spaniard didn't know about Lovino and he was realizing that only now, as he had been too focused on himself and his own problems that he had been only thinking about how good and relaxed the other's company made him feel each time he was visiting him. He had just wished to stay at his side... but now that they were a couple, he started feeling the need to know more about him and noticed that Lovino represented a huge mystery. Just a short while ago his attention had been caught by the decoration in Lovino's house, or better said, the lack of decoration: these empty walls gave him the impression of being in a cold and abandoned house, to be honest. The Italian didn't have a single photo of himself, nor of his brother, and much less of his other family members. Nothing. As if no one existed for him. The only thing that had a personal touch was perhaps that crucifix hanging on the wall near the front door. Even his bedroom was quite austere, however there was something peculiar about it: the color of the walls was so dark that they were nearly black, not to mention these thick curtains. That room looked even gloomier from the inside than what he had seen of it through the window. A couple of days ago he had gone in there, searching for Tortuga, who had escaped his grip and was having a comfortable walk through the house. Of course, Antonio had noticed the darkness in that bedroom. "Hey Lovino, aren't you scared to sleep in here?" he asked, contemplating the walls and the curtains that didn't let through any light. The Italian immediately dragged him out and slammed the door shut. "Did nobody teach you not to enter someone else's room without permission?" he scolded him. And that was only one of the many occasions where he had refused to answer any of Antonio's questions. Another was when the Spaniard was admiring the already mentioned crucifix on the wall that had a little shelf, where a candle was burning. "Are you catholic or just doing it out of habit?" he asked, pointing at the Jesus on the cross. That question seemed to anger Lovino. "Of course I'm catholic. And you aren't?" he questioned back in a menacing tone, as if he would chase away the Spaniard forever if the latter happened to be an atheist. "Well, you could say that I am. My Mom drummed the religion into me, and we were always going to church on Sunday. I even was an altar boy together with Francis for some time. Can you imagine what little angels we were? The nuns always called us adorable, but the pastor knew that we did only mischief," narrated Antonio with nostalgic giggles and turned to Lovino. "And is your family too? Yes, I suppose, I can imagine you and your brother fooling around in church as well. Kids will always be kids," he continued, approaching him. "By the way, how were you as a child? And what about your family?" But Lovino just looked at him with an expression on his face he never managed to comprehend. It didn't seem neither sad nor happy, if he had to somehow describe it... there was a sort of emptiness in the Italian's eyes, so deep that he had to avert his gaze before it could intimidate him even more. That time, Lovino only shrugged and avoided the question. And Antonio became aware of something else: the other didn't only have any photos of his family members in his house, but neither talked about them. Never. He did mention Feliciano several times, but never said a word about his father or mother or anyone else he had any relation with, never pronouncing the name of a friend or even classmate from his school days. And he also never explained why he had decided to not go to university, despite having the opportunity to do it (this was what Antonio concluded at least, after hearing that the Italian's brother was studying art). Neither did he say why he had moved to this small village in the middle of nowhere to live here completely on his own, and when Antonio tried to ask him about it again, Lovino shrugged one more time and started to talk about something else. In addiction to that, Antonio didn't know why Lovino always abandoned his workplaces after an absurd period of time and who was that person calling him every day, without the Italian ever answering. With every passing day, the Spaniard understood more and more that he didn't know anything about Lovino. And it made him feel bad, since he realized that since their first meeting, he had been worrying only about himself and being the victim of his endless tragedies... so his interest in getting to know his partner better started growing faster than ever before. Though he wasn't the only one to blame, as Lovino seemed to insist on things staying the way they were: he never told anything about himself, and every time Antonio tried to question him about something, he turned away. So if Antonio was hiding behind his smiles, one could say that Lovino was hiding behind his silence. The Italian was busy preparing something delicious for them to eat when he suddenly felt a pair of arms wrapping themselves around his hips and two hands entwining on his stomach. Antonio placed his chin on Lovino's shoulder and kissed his cheek, like in a scene of a newly-married couple. "Why are you always doing that?" asked Lovino, frowning. Not because he was annoyed by it, but because he genuinely didn't understand the reason for getting so much attention. "Because I love you so much," answered the smiling Spaniard, giving him a kiss on his lips, then on his cheek again and proceeding with his neck, while tightening his embrace. 《And because I want you to be mine, only mine...》 Lovino couldn't help but shudder hearing that thought. Antonio often repeated these words in his head, and of course, his heart... a big wave of possessive feelings and desire. Close to midnight, Antonio was returning home, as Lovino always had a good pretext to not let him sleep in his house. But it wasn't as if the Spaniard insisted too much, after all he knew that Lovino was a person difficult to approach in every way, personally and physically. But sometimes he also started questioning why the Italian's brother was allowed so many things. Maybe it was all due to the fact that they were twins, who grew up together and shared a bond Antonio, who didn't have any siblings, couldn't understand. But even with that, he couldn't help but feel a bit jealous of Feliciano. Recently, these things also started going through the Spaniard's head when he arrived home and tried to sleep. Tossing and turning in bed, he wondered, for the millionth time, how Lovino's life had been to make him not want to reveal the tiniest detail about it and how he had grown up with his brother to have such a close relationship. Sometimes, though it was unpleasant to admit, Antonio thought that said relationship between Feliciano and Lovino was too close. Abnormally close. Emma and Vincent, for example, loved each other a lot as well, and Vincent was extremely protective towards Emma, since she was younger and also a girl. Antonio knew that they were really close and could always count on one another... but it was nothing compared to Feliciano and Lovino: the twins seemed to live in a secret world that existed only for them both, excluding everything unknown, any danger threatening it. Feliciano, whom Lovino trusted and the other way round, had the opportunity... no, the right to share these aspects of Lovino's life Antonio knew nothing about. There was just something between them, something more intimate than the fact of having been in the same womb during nine months. Usually, siblings were almost always leading their own lives despite their consanguinity, sharing only a few experiences... but these two... seemed to have had one single life for a large amount of time. And this was the fact that was annoying Antonio a bit. The Spaniard turned around for the fourth time in his bed, and Tortuga, who was snuggled up against him, lazily opened his eyes when he felt the mattress move due to his owner's insomnia. The latter stared at him. "Hey Tortuga, do you think it's wrong to feel like that?" he asked. The cat was blinking slowly, it seemed as if he couldn't decide if he should just ignore his owner and go to sleep or rather listen to his laments, as always. "It's not that I didn't like his brother, it's just... that I wanna be that close to Lovi as well," Antonio kept talking to the cat, who was moving his tail from one side to the other, as if he was thinking about an answer. The Spaniard let out a sigh, closed his eyes and covered himself with the blanket. "I want to know absolutely everything about him as well... want him to be mine in every way," he added before falling asleep, still with this thought in mind. Each morning followed its normal course: he went to work and met his friends from time to time during his breaks. He already had told them that he was going out with Lovino and they... well, tried to take it well, but still wondered how their friend could end up together with a person like the Italian. This afternoon, the three of them were having lunch together. The Spaniard was on his lunch break, so they had gone out to look for a pleasant and cheap place to eat and talk. "Do you believe it's normal when your partner absolutely refuses to talk with you about their life?" asked Antonio out of a sudden, when the other two were about to take a bite from their baguettes. Francis and Gilbert looked at each other and then at him. "Oh, no way, do you already have relationship problems after such a short time?" commented Gilbert. Francis giggled. "No, we don't, it's just a doubt," answered the Spaniard with a smile and laughing, hiding the fact that this "doubt" had been tormenting him since the day he discovered that he knew nothing about Lovino. Francis took a bite from his baguette and cleaned the corners of his mouth with a napkin, taking his sweet time to respond. "Antoine, of course you know nothing about that guy, since you in fact just recently got together with him, as our dear Gilbert says," he said in an arrogant tone like always. But Antonio still wasn't convinced. "That's true, but I seriously don't know anything, literally nothing except for his complete name and his age," he commented, only holding his food in his hands, without eating it. "Maybe he's a spy and has to kill you if you find something out," joked Gilbert, without caring for Antonio's paranoia. "Your jokes are getting worse and worse, Gilbo. Perhaps that's why the girls are keeping their distance from you," joked the Spaniard as well. The German only let out a grunt and busied himself with devouring his lunch. "Mon amour, not every one of us is like an open book and believe me, Lovino didn't give me the impression of being the kind of person who tells you his life story after a few kisses and a round of sex. This is all a question of time. Or do you tell someone your whole story after just one night together?" asked the Frenchman, and Antonio almost responded with a yes. After all, that was exactly what had happened with Lovino. After one night of sleeping at the latter's house, the Italian had made him say the things he couldn't even tell his closest friends and family during all his life... one day of knowing him had been enough to reveal him every secret he was hiding under his smiling mask. Perhaps that was the reason why he was so restless about the fact that he didn't know a single thing about the Italian, who had managed to decipher him completely after just a few hours. With only that penetrant look of his, you could say... but Antonio himself didn't even find out the names of Lovino's parents after several months. "Stop tormenting yourself so much over this, you should better try to find it out in your own way instead of asking him questions. Knowing you, I can imagine that all you did together with him was getting all lovey-dovey and sweet as sugar with him and all the other sappy things you do when you're in a relationship with someone else," said Gilbert, licking his fingers and making Antonio feel a bit uncomfortable. The Spaniard just stared at his untouched plate. "Not true," he muttered between clenched teeth, hearing his friend guessing basically everything right what he had been doing with Lovino since the beginning of their relationship. "I have to admit that Gilbert is right this time, and that's incredible considering his complete lack of tactfulness regarding love affairs," commented Francis. The albino frowned slightly. "What that's supposed to mean? I'm a real chick magnet, a master of conquering hearts," he bragged with his constant delusions of grandeur. "Let's allow Gilbert to enjoy his narcissistic fantasies and return to our topic," suggested Francis, ignoring the German and returning his attention to Antonio. "Don't force Lovino, wait until he tells you on his own; invite him somewhere you think he will be at ease, and he will gradually start to speak about himself, it's just a question of time," said the romance expert. Antonio thought about it for a bit. His friends might be partly right, after all he himself was more than aware of what kind of person Lovino was. So now he felt a bit stupid for having expected immediate answers from him. It was time to equip himself with eternal patience and think about what he could do to make the Italian feel comfortable enough to let down his guard at least a tiny bit. After the meal, the Spaniard said goodbye to his friends, who returned to their own workplaces as well. While walking back to the café, Antonio was pondering about what he could do together with Lovino that Sunday to break their routine, so that the latter felt good enough to tell him at least about the things he liked and disliked. And just at that moment, his favorite cousin came to his mind, and he promptly took out his mobile phone to call her. "Emma, hola, It's me, Antonio. Yeah, I'm alright, I was just wondering... Is your invitation for this Sunday still valid?" He remembered that Lovino had felt at ease in his cousins' company. To be honest, it was the very first time he had seen him being so calm in the presence of someone who wasn't his brother. He sincerely hoped that the Italian would be able to open himself while being with other people, at least a little. The rest of the week passed calmly, without any news, and finally arrived the weekend. On that Sunday, Antonio rang Lovino's door, and as soon the latter opened it, practically ordered him to get ready. "I'm not going anywhere," refused Lovino categorically, watching how disappointment appeared on Antonio's face within a few seconds. "Come on, Lovino! Por favor, por favor, por favor," begged the Spaniard, following him like a chick follows its mother. The Italian tried to avoid him. "No, I hate going out and, most of all, being among people," said Lovino, sitting down on his couch and crossing his arms, making it more than clear that no one would drag him outside. Tortuga was supporting him, lying down on his lap. "But we won't be out for a long time, just a little bit, oh come on, Emma can't wait to see you again, Guillermo too and... about Vincent, I'm not sure, but he'll be there as well. Please, Lovino!" But the Italian continued shaking his head, while stroking the cat's back. "Then pass on my greetings to Emma and the others, I'm not going," he said to the desperate Antonio. The latter then proceeded to walk towards Lovino, sat down on the floor and rested his chin on the Italian's lap, where it wasn't occupied by Tortuga. "Why don't you want to go out with me, Lovino? Don't you like my cousins after all?" he asked with affliction in his voice. 《Does he really hate going out that much that he won't even do it with me? I don't get you, Lovino... Why so much resentment towards people? I want to know, but you don't let me, and I feel that the closer we become, the more you try to keep me away from you...》 "That's not it!" exclaimed Lovino slightly upset, startling Antonio a bit, who raised his gaze to look at him. "It's just... that I seriously don't feel comfortable around people or outside at all," explained the Italian, hiding the fact that in reality he had an insane fear of being in a place with more than two people. The sole idea of having to endure all that noise in his ears made him think that his head would explode one day. "But you won't go out with those people, only with me. You just need to trust me," said Antonio, standing up and taking his hands. Lovino directed his chocolate brown eyes at the emerald ones of the other man, intimidating him again with that penetrant and almost smothering look of his. Trust? What did he mean by that? What was trusting someone else? Lovino didn't know, didn't understand... there had never been any room in his life for something like that before. 《I will look after Lovino.》 This was what he heard the Spaniard think, while he was feeling the latter slightly squeeze his hands, finally convincing him to go. Lovino stood up with a bad feeling. He got ready, while Antonio was waiting for him outside in front of the door. The Italian took his jacket and headed to the crucifix on the wall, quickly crossing himself and then taking a deep breath, filling his lungs, as if that could calm his anxiety at least a bit. "I really don't want to go," he mumbled between clenched teeth, before leaving the house and meeting Antonio, who received him with a smile. They walked together to the latter's house, where a car and two people were waiting for them. Vincent was leaning against the driver's door and calmly smoking, while Guillermo was tapping the car's roof with his fingers and slight impatience. "What're they doing here?" asked Lovino while walking. Antonio rolled his eyes and grinned. "Well, let's say that I was more than sure that I'd manage to convince you," he admitted. Lovino turned around on the spot. "Bye," he said. But before he could make a step, Antonio wrapped his arms around his hips, stopping him. "No! You already agreed to come!" he whined, practically dragging Lovino towards the car, while Vincent and Guillermo were watching them, amused by the scene. Well, at least the Cuban did, openly laughing at them. In the end, Lovino did end up inside the car and they drove off. He was a bit grumpy and snorting from time to time, while Antonio was looking at him with puppy eyes, trying to appease him a bit. "Where the hell are we going, by the way?" grumbled Lovino and frowned, as he began to notice that they had left the village already a long time ago. "To meet Emma," answered Guillermo, who was on the co-driver's seat, and smiled cheerfully. "You'll see our cousin showing off her talent. Just try to not fall in love with her and break Toño's heart," he added, upsetting Antonio with that comment, who shot him a look of annoyance. Lovino fell silent, just taking deep breaths while contemplating the changing scenery and slowly leaving his comfort zone behind. He started to feel nervous, which got worse and worse, until turning into anxiety. "Are you okay?" inquired Antonio, noticing the way the other was burying his fingers into the seat, constantly taking these deep and long breaths and opening the car window, slightly sticking out his head, as if he needed more air. Lovino turned around to him and nodded, showing his nervousness even more. "Where are we going exactly?" he asked, feeling the breeze enter through the window that was cooling down his heated face a bit. "To town, there we'll meet Emma," said Antonio. Lovino opened his eyes wide, buried his nails powerfully into the seat again and slightly bent over, hoping not having to vomit any moment. "Lovino, are you really okay?" asked the worried Spaniard again and started rubbing the Italian's back. The latter immediately slapped away his hand, as if he couldn't bear the touch. "No, to be honest, not really. Could we return?" He looked at Guillermo and Vincent's eyes, that were reflected by the rear mirror. "What're you talking about? We're already more than halfway there. Don't worry, you'll be fine as soon as we arrive, you'll see," answered Guillermo, stretching a bit to pat Lovino's shoulder, who moved back, avoiding him as well. 《I hope he'll endure, Lovino really looks terrible. But perhaps he'll feel better if he distracts himself a bit once we arrive.》 He heard Antonio think and wanted to object, but couldn't and also wasn't able to explain to him why a distraction wasn't possible for him, especially being near people. And so, he started to silently pray that they would only drive to Emma's house, meeting no one but her, being only the five of them just like that time at Antonio's home. He begged for it with all his might, or else he wasn't even sure himself what would happen to him. It seemed that they were already near their destiny, and it wasn't precisely a nice and quiet neighborhood, but rather a big park. Vincent was looking for a place to park the car, as almost every parking spot was occupied, a fact that made Lovino's anxiety go through the roof. They finally found a free spot and got out. Or at least, Vincent and Guillermo did, the latter stretching his body after the drive. Antonio was about to get out as well, but then saw that Lovino wasn't moving even a centimeter from his seat. "Hey Toño, watch after your little boyfriend here, while Vin and I go look for Emma. I'm sure she's barfing right now from nervousness," announced Guillermo and the two of them left, while Antonio was waiting for Lovino to gather the courage to get out of the car. The Italian started thinking that he was making a fool out of himself, acting like a scared kid once again. Antonio was getting even more worried, repeating this many times in his head. No... he was causing everyone problems, once again his name had become the synonym of difficulties and worries. He felt as if he had traveled back into his childhood, where his mother had to come in order to take him out of his hiding place. But he wasn't a child anymore, for god's sake... he couldn't make others go through all these problems caused by him. He closed his eyes tightly before getting out and as soon as he did, a murmur of several voices started filling his ears, making him step back. But then he looked at Antonio again, who had that annoying expression on his face, constantly wondering in his thoughts if his partner was alright. "Let's go," said Antonio, offering his hand, but Lovino refused to take it, frowned even more than he normally did and followed the Spaniard, who didn't insist on making him hold his hand. They started to walk and the closer they were getting to the place where the other three were waiting for them, the more small groups of people were spotted by Lovino. They were talking... thinking and feeling, making him feel sick. "What is this place? Where's Emma?" he asked, raising his right hand, pretending to remove a strand of hair from his face, but in reality trying to cover his ear. He started to feel really terrible. The throbbing in his forehead was already indicating the arrival of that well-known headache, the migraine he would get if he continued staying there with all these voice talking and yelling at the same time. "You see, Emma is working in the music field, she's a singer and is going to participate in this little concert today. She was so excited, saying that a lot of artists would come and because it was confirmed that there'll be a pretty large audience," explained Antonio, when they arrived. Lovino turned pale as a sheet and was suddenly attacked by an unbearable buzzing that seemed to drill through his head until reaching his brain. The pain was extreme. There were way too many people there! Too many people producing a such insupportable noise, Lovino could swear that a million voices were screaming directly against his eardrums. As the Spaniard was planning to enter the crowd, he promptly felt the other man grabbing his hand, stopping him. "Let's leave!" yelled Lovino, sounding scared, and with a strange expression on his face: he seemed to be suffering, slightly bending over as if he would protect himself from something. "But we've just arrived," protested Antonio, being dragged by Lovino, who was tightly pressing his other hand on his right ear. "Let's leave, let's leave!" he screamed, raising his voice as if that could silence the bunch of others that were resounding in his temples and making him double over even more from the pain that was raging in his ears and his head. He was hearing all these people, the excitement in their hearts, all their euphoric thoughts, mixed with incoherent and incomprehensible ones. It had turned into an endless bombardment of noise that almost seemed like torture. "Wait... we still haven't seen Emma and..." But before the Spaniard could finish his sentence, Lovino gave up on convincing him, roughly let go of his hand and ran away as fast as he could. Of course, Antonio immediately went after him, calling his name. But the Italian was just running full speed, with his hands on his ears and without turning around even once. Lovino was fleeing from an invisible enemy that was chasing only him, making such huge steps as if that monster created out of noise was close on his heels, about to devour his head and each one of his senses. So he ran and ran, plagued by fear and pain. Enough! Why was it tormenting only him? Why wasn't he able to escape? He didn't even realize where he had arrived. It was a solitary parking place that no one had occupied. Lovino's lungs were burning from all the running, and his muscles started cramping. He stopped and basically fell on his knees, eagerly covering his ears, while panting and sobbing. He didn't know what was hurting more: his chest, his lungs, his legs, or his head. The pain was so intense that in addiction to the panting and crying, he also started gagging from time to time. "Lovino!" screamed Antonio, arriving there also almost stumbling, and bent down to Lovino in order to figure out what the matter was with him. "Calm down, calm down, calm down," the latter was repeating to himself uncontrollably and gasping for breath. He closed his eyes and tightly clenched his jaw, lowering his head and grabbing his ears with such force that he seemed to scratch them with his nails. "Lovino, tell me what's wrong," begged Antonio, intending to put his hands on the Italian's shoulders and hug him, but as soon as he did that, Lovino shoved him away. "I want to leave, I can't bear staying here!", he yelled desperately, while a few tears were leaving his eyes. "Wait, I think you need to go see a doctor or to the hospital, you look terrible," the Spaniard tried to convince him after having overcome the slight perplexity from the shove. "Take me home!" screamed Lovino again. 《What should I do? I don't know what's the matter with him! No clue!》 "Shut up, shut up... stop thinking," murmured Lovino when he heard that. Without knowing what to do, Antonio just took out his phone and called a taxi, since he realized that the other man wouldn't return to the concert under no circumstances. They waited a while for the taxi to arrive. Lovino hadn't moved from his spot, continuing to mutter things under his breath, without letting Antonio approach him. The Spaniard was trying to find an explication for the Italian's behavior. 《That's exactly the same like on that day we first met. Lovino, please, tell me what's wrong at least, tell me how I can help you.》 But the Italian just kept standing on his knees and tightly pressing his hands against his ears. "Give me your phone," he suddenly demanded out of the blue, stretching out his hand, and the Spaniard obeyed, not wanting to upset him even more. With shaking hands, Lovino dialed the only number he knew by heart, and just as his call was answered, the taxi finally arrived and they both got in. Antonio indicated the address to the driver, while Lovino lifted his feet on the seat and was holding the phone almost pressed to his face. "Feliciano, it's me... it happened again. Could you come to my house? I'm on my way there as well... but don't hang up, I need to hear your voice," heard the Spaniard Lovino talk to his brother. The Italian didn't let go of the phone during the whole drive, just nodding from time to time. Antonio, who was sitting next to him, was observing him in the meantime: the way the other was almost curled up to a ball on the seat and how he constantly moved his hands from his head to his forehead and his ear. The conversation between the brothers was in Italian, and he tried to understand at least a bit, but in vain, he didn't have a clue what they were speaking about. Despite being in the same place and next to each other, Antonio felt so far away from the Italian like never before. In one of his worst times, the latter had decided to turn him down and to distance himself... not even looking at him. As soon as they finally arrived at Lovino's house, the Italian rushed out, without even waiting for the Spaniard, and ran towards his door, where Feliciano was already standing. As it seemed, the younger one had left home immediately after receiving his brother's call. Antonio paid the driver and hurried after the twins, who had entered the house. When he followed them, he only spotted the older one leading his brother by the hand into his bedroom, and wanted to go there as well. But Lovino closed the door in his face, after which Antonio was just standing there, slightly baffled and trying to process what had happened just now. He rested his hands and his forehead against the closed door, listening to the brothers' quiet murmur from inside and asking himself the following questions: Who the hell was he for Lovino, if the latter didn't even let him help in moments like these? What place did he occupy in the Italian's life in the first place? And even more... in his heart?