The dark side of your heart

Lovino had finally adopted a resolution: it was time to tell the truth, to reveal his biggest secret to the man who had managed to enter his life and become a part of it, even without being sure how it had happened. But, of course, it was always a lot easier said than done, and it looked like as if destiny itself got in the way when Lovino was about to do it. Or, better said, Antonio himself, whose libido seemed to wake up, every time the Italian was gathering the necessary courage. The exact moment he was preparing himself to open his mouth and say something, Antonio was already basically all over him, attacking him with kisses in an uncontrollable fit of lust... and, well, Lovino was weak. Especially after having discovered the good sides of sex. It surely wasn't exaggerated to say that Lovino and Antonio were only leaving the bed or dressed when the Spaniard was at work, since they were spending the remaining parts of the evenings, nights, and weekends with the search for new and better ways to make each other feel good. The Italian was sometimes embarrassed to admit to himself that he and the Spaniard were acting like a couple of rabbits in spring, or something similar to that. However, not everything was about sexual activities, sometimes they were just laying in bed in silence, or at least Antonio thought that they were silent, without saying anything, just snuggled up against each other, skin to skin, and counting their partner's heartbeats. Antonio liked to run his fingers over the other's hair, burying them in his brown curls and gently descend to his neck, then repeating it all over. And Lovino, for his part, entertained himself counting the moles on Antonio's body again and again: beginning with the one on the Spaniard's right side, just between two of his ribs, the Italian moved his index finger to the one in the center of his chest, the one on his neck, near his hair, some that were located on his forearm and another one that was on his leg. He had already memorized them all. During other occasions, they just fell into a deep sleep after making love, without saying a word either. Sometimes Antonio woke up in the middle of the night and always found Lovino curled up into a ball, with his hands powerfully pressed against his ears. Every single night in the same position. "Oh, Lovi... What are you dreaming about? What are you hiding from?" he asked in a whisper and then hugged the Italian, as if he pretended to protect him from those dreams, from that monster he seemed to be running and escaping. The mornings that came, almost always followed the same dynamic: the alarm clock beeped and Antonio woke up first and ran off to get dressed, while Lovino continued sleeping. All of their encounters took place in the Spaniard's house, by the way, so Lovino had already gotten used to spending there several days in a row, sometimes forgetting that he had his own home. "Leaving already?" asked the Italian sleepily, listening to Antonio's steps, who was walking back and forth between the bathroom and the bedroom, with the meowing Tortuga following him. "Yeah, but if you want, I'll stay," said Antonio flirtatiously, taking the toothbrush out of his mouth and giving Lovino a quick kiss, who perceived the toothpaste's minty freshness on his lips. "Sure. And then we'll be both unemployed," replied Lovino, watching the Spaniard go to the bathroom to rinse his mouth. The latter returned after that and then threw himself on the bed. "And what about being both unemployed, who have incredible morning sex?" asked Antonio, making himself comfortable on top of Lovino, pretending to seduce him. "Stop talking like a porn actor and scram to work," he was scolded by the other man, who tried to shove him away. Antonio laughed. It was during moments like these, when they were joking or having fun together, enjoying some simple everyday triviality, that Antonio was always thinking the same. 《You're the best that has ever happened to me in my life. No idea what I did to deserve you being by my side.》 And at the same time, the guilt was weighting down on Lovino more and more, and he wondered how long their days full of joy would last. When the Italian was alone, that bitter feeling came to replace the fleeting happiness. He was telling himself over and over that it was finally time to come out with the truth, and a thousand scenarios started playing in his head. It would be great to prolong the time, but the pricks of conscience were already becoming unbearable. He picked up Tortuga, who was wandering around, and sat him down on his lap. A meow escaped the animal. "What do you think? Will everything turn out well?" the Italian wanted to know from the cat, who was looking him in the eyes and then just started to lick his whiskers. "I hope Feliciano's right about the fact that people are able to adapt to the circumstances of others... well, Feli did it himself when we were kids." Lovino looked at Tortuga again. "You know that dumbass Antonio longer than me, so do you think he'll end up hating me or rather trying to understand me?" he asked again. The cat just continued staring at him with his peculiar eyes. Lovino finally sighed and let Tortuga down on the floor, so that the animal could go wherever he wanted. "I should stop asking the cat for advice," said the Italian, immersing himself in his thoughts again. Once more, he let the day pass by without anything new. The peaceful routine took its course without letting itself be ruined by any surprise, and nothing interrupted the moment when the night arrived that brought another intimate encounter with Antonio. The Spaniard was in a romantic mood, and they spent the whole night between sweet kisses and gentle caresses. Lovino's conscience started tormenting him even more when he listened to Antonio and heard how much the other loved him. It was tormenting him so bad that he was about to shove his partner away and finally tell him everything. But he waited until the next morning, which was actually supposed to be just another normal Sunday. Antonio had once again been the first one to wake up, and Lovino guessed that he must be preparing breakfast after noticing his absence in the bed. The Italian got up and dressed himself a bit sluggishly, not caring about putting on shoes, since having woken up and put on clothes had been enough of an effort already. Leaving the bedroom, he perceived the smell of coffee and went downstairs, spotting Antonio sitting in the living room on the floor (somehow this guy always ignored his seating furniture). Several magazines were lying scattered over the little table in the center, and the Spaniard was leafing through them while taking little sips from his steaming cup of coffee. "Gold morning," said Lovino in a sleepy voice. "Good morning," answered Antonio with a big smile and returned his gaze to his reading. "What're you doing?" asked the Italian, looking at the magazines' covers and discovering that they were about free time activities and travelling. "Ah, I'm looking for a place we can go to together, because I think that we'll get ulcers on our backs if we spend any more time in bed. But don't you worry, I bought all this stuff to search for a place not a lot of people go to, so you can feel comfortable," the Spaniard explained, still smiling. Lovino was attacked by another prick of guilt that made him frown. "No need to do that, if you want to go somewhere, do it with your friends. I'm not jealous, you know?" he said, going to pour himself a cup of coffee as well. "Don't say that, Lovi, I want to go with you and see various things and places together," objected Antonio. There it was.. the perfect timing for Lovino to finally tell him the real reason why he didn't like people and going outside. The Italian's hand, which was holding the cup, trembled for a moment, but then he felt Tortuga rubbing up against his leg and took this as a sign that the cat was trying to convey him the courage he needed. So he placed the cup next to the coffeepot and took a deep breath. "I never liked people nor going outside," he began. "Since I was a child, since I have memory... I've always hated being in crowded places." Antonio pricked up his ears, not wanting to interrupt him, since he felt that the other one was finally about to start opening the door to his secrets. Lovino returned to the living room and sat down on the floor as well, in front of Antonio. "Every time I went to school or outside, I heard voices resounding in my head and told my mother that they were hurting me... And do you know what she always answered?" he asked with a little, ironic, humorless smile, an empty, lonely smile, one that the Spaniard hadn't seen on his lips for a long time. "She petted my head and said, 'everything will be alright'," said Lovino, starting to breathe again and filling his lungs with as much oxygen as he could. "But I knew it wouldn't, nothing could be alright since I heard people screaming in my head all the time, as if they were punching my skull." "Every single day I suffered from migraine and every single day my only wish was to become deaf and not hear anything anymore... so my parents had the fantastic idea to take me to a doctor. And then to another one... and another one, and they all told me that everything was alright as well. Finally, I ended up in front of a psychiatrist," narrated Lovino, seeing deep sadness in Antonio's face from time to time... no, he didn't like that expression, wanted him to stop looking at him like that. Stop looking at him with that pity and compassion. How sickening... he didn't want to see that. 《Schizophrenia.》 "No, I'm not schizophrenic," snapped Lovino at Antonio before the latter could even pronounce that word, startling him. "I wished I was, since it would be possible to treat it with medicine then," continued the Italian, his voice breaking, as he put one of his hands on his head. "And do you still hear these voices?" asked the worried Antonio, again with that tone full of pity. What the hell? "These are not just voices, Antonio. The real reason why I hate going outside, why I despise people so much, is because these voices that are banging against my eardrums and brain... are nothing more than their thoughts. I can hear what people think and feel," Lovino finally got it out. What followed, was the most suffocating silence he had ever experienced in his life. Antonio blinked repeatedly without knowing what to say. That confession had left him speechless. 《He can't be serious.》 "I am very serious," replied Lovino when he heard that thought, startling the other man again, who slowly shook his head. 《Hey... no, that was only a coincidence, everyone could have guessed it.》 "That was no coincidence. Or do you think that I'm also able to guess when you're lying to me?" inquired Lovino and this time Antonio let out a stifled scream, went pale as a sheet and started to slightly back off. "People are always lying, that's why I didn't like you when I met you for the first time. I saw you smile all the time while you were dying from inside. That night I let you spend at my house back then, for example, I could hear you collapse mentally. Antonio, I heard so many times how you wished to disappear." The Spaniard widened his eyes, barely able to speak. "No... that's not true..." he stammered. "It is. And I also heard how much your mother is missing your father and that you're living here because she didn't want to tear down that house, where she spent a lot of happy years with him. You never told me that, and do you think she would talk about it with a complete stranger? I heard Francis and Gilbert, your cousins... am listening to you every night... you're still suffering from depression from time to time, don't you? You're afraid that I abandon you, and you'll be left all alone, afraid of losing me and sinking into your own desperation again, afraid of not being able to bear it this time and trying to kill yourself again," said Lovino. Antonio kept staring at him, his eyes as wide open as possible, and his face getting even paler than before. "And now tell me... why are you sounding so scared right now?" asked the Italian finally, firmly looking at the other man, who let out another scream he tried to suppress. 《Get out of my head!》 "Wait, Antonio, it's not like I wanted to hear all this, I'm not doing it on purpose." Lovino wanted to approach the Spaniard, but the latter starting backing off quickly, still sitting on the floor. "Feliciano has always known it, and we were able to overcome this together. I'm sure that we'll manage to find a way to live with this too, if you just let me explain it better." Still trying to come closer, Lovino stretched out his hand to touch Antonio's shoulder and calm him down, but the other jumped up and pressed himself against the wall, still with that terrified expression on his face. "Antonio, let me explain!" exclaimed Lovino, about to get up, and grabbed the Spaniard's wrist. The latter let out a real scream this time and violently shook off his hand. 《DON'T COME NEAR ME, DON'T TOUCH ME!》 Still on the floor with his hand stretched out into Antonio's direction, Lovino opened his eyes wide. His partner had rejected him, evaded him... at the most crucial moment in his life. He looked at the Spaniard, who continued pressing himself against the wall and panting, with his face showing another level of panic. That last thought he had yelled from the deepness of his heart kept ringing in Lovino's ears and head. The Italian now looked at his hand that was still trying to reach the other. Then he clenched it into a fist, pressed it against the floor, and lowered his head until his hair was covering his eyes. "Enough... I've had enough of this," he whispered, stood up and ran out of the Spaniard's house as fast as he could. The pavement's stones buried themselves painfully into the soles of his feet, but he didn't care, barely sensing it, since the pain in his chest was so overwhelming that he felt as if he was about to break entirely. As if his whole body was being beaten. This was the worst pain he had experienced in his life, it was even more terrible than the headache he got from being in a crowded place. However, Antonio did tell him the truth: he didn't hate him... no... but the Italian had never imagined that his partner could end up fearing him. And this was perhaps even more painful than hate. After having arrived home, the first thing he did, was to punch the wall with his fist as powerfully as he could until his knuckles started bleeding, while he was screaming from rage and pain. The telephone was already ringing for a while, so he went to it, basically ripped it out of the wall and threw it at the other side of the living room. Liar! Feliciano was a liar as well, for having told him that people were able to understand. Liar, liar! Like everyone in this goddamn world. With hot tears running down his face, injured knuckles and a destroyed wall, he proceeded to break everything he saw: chairs, tables, decorations, everything. Passing by one of his mirrors, he spotted his horrible reflection, the reflection of the person who was fated to stay alone forever. He broke the mirror with his arm, making it loudly shatter into a thousand pieces. One of these cut his forearm, which started to bleed intensely. But once again, he didn't care, almost unable to perceive it at all. Still screaming and crying, he walked to the crucifix that was hanging near his door, violently ripped it from the wall and raised his hand as high as he could, about to toss it against the floor. But then he stopped. He was panting and crying, and also bleeding, but still wasn't capable of doing something like this. Instead, he just fell to his knees, pressed the cross against his chest and let out a long sob, so loud that it sounded like a howl of a dying wolf. The blood from his arm was dripping onto the floor and staining his clothes, but he just stayed there, hugging that Christ, resting his forehead against the floor and crying and screaming at the top of his lungs, asking himself again and again why... why he was the only one who had to go through this. What kind of unforgivable sin had he committed to be condemned to such a punishment that had stolen everything from him, even his sanity? "Enough!" he yelled with the entire power of his throat, feeling his chest hurt and having trouble breathing. He had enough of this pain... and this life. His stiff fingers slowly let go of the cross, and his eyes, that were staring at the floor in tears, fixated a specific spot. "Enough," he repeated hoarsely, dropping the crucifix and looking again at the Jesus with the compassionate gaze in the bloody face under the crown of thorns. "You should just kill everyone," the Italian said to him, letting himself fall to the ground as well without caring for his wound and just waiting until the pain would fade, everything go numb, and he stop having feelings once and for all. However, this never happened. The hours went by, but his entire body continued hurting as if he had gotten a severe beating. Lovino started to believe that he would never be able to feel anything else in his life besides that pain. His body was full of invisible bruises, wounds that didn't leave scars on his skin but under it, a poison that brought only agony but not death. The same poison his heart seemed to spread with each beat that felt like a clean and direct blow against his chest. Being alive was now... much too painful. Two entire days had passed. Lovino hadn't bothered cleaning up all that disaster in his house, instead just getting up from the floor stained with blood and making an improvisational bandage for his arm. Then he had dragged himself on his also hurt feet to his bedroom, where he had slipped under the blanket and rolled himself up in it like a caterpillar, closing his eyes and deciding that he wouldn't care anymore about what happened outside those four walls. The end of the world could arrive or he himself starve to death, it didn't matter anymore. Because why should he live in a reality where his life had started going down the drain the very moment he had been born? No, it didn't matter anymore, he just wanted to stay safe under his blanket and close his eyes, refusing to see anything besides the darkness and to hear anything besides the silence. The only two things that were unconditional to him, the only two that really stayed by his side when no one else did. Just as he was starting to fall asleep under his barricade of bedclothes, he suddenly felt an additional weight on his mattress. A weight that was moving forward on four paws and wanted to invade his fortification. Knowing perfectly who it was, Lovino stuck out his head and looked at Tortuga, who had come to visit him. The Italian frowned and shoved the cat away so that the latter fell on his back. "Scram," he ordered the animal, who stood up and came closer one more time. Lovino shoved him again and again, wanting to chase him off his bed. "I told you to scram!" he screamed at Tortuga. The cat fell silent and then started to meow at him, as if he wanted to know why he was being treated like that. "Leave," repeated Lovino, but still didn't have the heart to grab Tortuga and remove him with force. The animal continued meowing, so in the end the Italian didn't have any choice than to let him join him under the blanket. The warmth of Tortuga's small body did feel comforting for a moment, but still wasn't enough to soothe the pain Lovino was still feeling. He ran his hand over the cat's stomach, who was lying next to him and enjoying the man's slow caresses, lazily closing his eyes. "I'm sick of all this," said Lovino, finally resting his hand on Tortuga's side, who was still watching him with barely opened eyes. And in the end, they both let themselves be numbed by sleep and the silence that was accompanying them. It was obvious that things weren't easy for Antonio, either. Of course not. It wouldn't be easy for anyone to learn something as supernatural, weird, fatal and incredible as Lovino's situation was. The Spaniard had spent a lot of time home, trying to gather his thoughts and process everything Lovino had told and also demonstrated to him. But he still didn't have a clue what to think about it. What was the right way to act? What should he do now? And it was logical that he couldn't count on anyone else in this situation. Eventually, he considered asking Feliciano for help, but dismissed that idea immediately, since he didn't even know how to contact the younger twin... but then he remembered the time when Lovino had been feeling very bad and asked him for his phone to call his brother. Without wasting any more time, he dashed off and started running through his house, searching for his mobile phone. If he was lucky, the number would still be there. And it was, it was still listed in his call history. But before calling, he carefully thought about how to explain everything to Feliciano, since he knew very well that the latter was as or even more overprotective than Lovino himself, so he had to choose his words wisely in order to receive any help from him. It was hard to admit, but Feliciano knew Lovino better than anyone else in the world. After a deep breath, he finally pressed the call button and waited for a moment that felt like an eternity. "Ve~ Hello?" answered Feliciano's childish voice. Antonio gulped. "It this you, Feliciano?" he asked just to be sure, despite having already recognized that strange "ve~". "Yes, speaking. And who are you?" inquired the younger Vargas brother calmly. "Ah... it's me, Antonio, sorry for the sudden call-" "Did something happen to my brother?!" Feliciano didn't even let him finish his sentence. He really was fixated on his brother. "No, nothing happened to him... I think..." added Antonio, sitting down on one of the couches and rubbing his hand over one of its arms, trying to calm down. "Well, actually Lovino doesn't know that I'm calling you, because it's me, who needs your help," he said in a slightly embarrassed tone, waiting for the answer. But the other didn't say anything for a few seconds. "What's going on?" Feliciano then asked, suddenly sounding more serious than usual. The Spaniard took a deep breath again. "You see, Lovino recently told me his secret... about what's happening to him and the things he hears... and..." started Antonio, not knowing how he should call the Italian's ability. "And how did you react?" interrupted Feliciano him again. Antonio straightened his back, as if the younger Italian was directly in front of him. He needed a couple of seconds to respond, since he didn't really know how to put into words that he had started panicking and acted like an idiot. "Not really well, let's say..." Antonio felt ashamed when he remembered the last thought that had escaped his head and had obviously been heard by the other. There was silence again. Then he heard how Feliciano let out a sigh, or, better said, something similar to a snort. "Antonio, if you really love my brother the same way he loves you, then please be so kind and never approach him again," Feliciano said finally, startling the Spaniard, who frowned. "I won't! Why are you saying that when I want you to help me? I'm aware that you love your brother, but this is not for you to decide!" he spat angrily. "It's just that I think that you don't understand what Lovino was forced to go through or how things can hurt him... how certain things bring him pain. So if you care about him, even a little, then leave him in peace. I'm sure you already did enough damage." Having said that, Feliciano hung up, without listening to Antonio's protests. "Feliciano!" yelled Antonio, but it was too late, so he removed the telephone from his ear and looked at it. "What the hell?" It was clear that he wouldn't listen to Feliciano, after all he was perfectly aware that the younger twin never liked him, so he could just have said this on purpose to annoy Antonio, so that the Spaniard would never approach Lovino again. That situation was more than frustrating. Finally he had learned the Italian's big secrets, but instead of becoming easier, everything got two times more confusing than before. He didn't know anymore what to do, how to react, what was good and what was bad. The Spaniard threw his phone on the table and laid down on the couch, staring at the ceiling and running his hand over his hair, messing it up in the process. He tried to gather his thoughts, pondering over everything and even Feliciano's words... No, he really didn't understand what could hurt Lovino, how a single thought was capable of wounding him, but Lovino himself didn't understand either what had brought Antonio to react like that. Lovino only listened... but didn't understand... and Antonio himself also had no clue what was going on at all and would have liked to get an explanation, even if it was with the help of little drawings, about what the hell was happening and what the hell he should do. And there was only one person able to give it to him, who obviously wasn't Feliciano: he had to go confront Lovino himself. Having arrived to that conclusion, Antonio got up and felt a slight tremor in his knees that made him sit back down on the couch. Only after a while, he found the strength to stand up again, swallowing his fear that was attacking him. Exactly as it had back then. He prepared himself mentally for all the questions and the possible answers, but, to be honest, wasn't very sure what to expect, just knowing that he was still afraid. When he was standing in front of Lovino's door, he suddenly felt the impulse to turn around and run away as far as he could, but his feet didn't move from the spot, as if they rebelled against his brain. So he didn't have any other choice than to ring the door. No one opened, so he knocked on it again and again, but there was still no answer. Now he punched it with even more force, calling Lovino's name. He knew that the Italian was home... or hoped it. "Lovino, open the door!" yelled Antonio, almost about to break it, but then it opened a crack. "Fuck off," ordered the Italian, his voice so hoarse that it sounded almost guttural. Antonio trembled a bit, when he heard that voice almost oozing with despise and saw Lovino's gaze. For a moment, it reminded him of that day he first met him at the café: these strangely absent eyes, completely empty but at the same time so piercing that they caused an uncomfortable shudder. "I won't, we need to talk," the Spaniard forced himself to speak, noticing how Lovino started frowning even more, while staring at him with his dull chocolate-colored eyes and slightly resting his head against the door frame. "Talk? No... I rather think that you've only come to underline how much you pity me and then to remind me of what a terrible monster I am and how horrible and scary it was to have been with me all this time. You're just here to judge me. So scram," spat Lovino at him, about to close the door, but Antonio pushed against it, opening it by force to enter his house. "It's you who are judging me!", the Spaniard exclaimed, stepping inside and approaching the Italian, grabbing the latter's uninjured arm, not having noticed yet the bandage on the other nor the disaster in the house. "And now you're making yourself the victim of the whole story. You shameless bastard." "I'm not making myself the victim! How did you want me to react, huh? Did you really think I would say, 'Oh, you can hear every detail of what I'm thinking and feeling? Great, let's watch a movie together'? Of course not, put yourself in my place!" objected Antonio. Lovino clenched his fists with force. "I did! I thought again and again how I should tell you, what would be the best way to let you know, but you..." Lovino stared at Antonio, who looked back at him. "But you fear me, even now," the Italian concluded with that icy tone of his, baffling the Spaniard to such an extent that the latter loosened his grip around the other's arm. "No, it's not what you think, it's not you who I fear, it's just..." "Liar! You're a liar like every damn person in this rotten world, you're all just a bunch of hypocrites, and you're the worst of them all. Liar, Liar!" screamed Lovino, accusingly pointing his finger at him. "I'm not lying! Calm down, please, listen to me!" begged Antonio. "NO! I've had enough of listening, I've been listening to everyone all my life and am now sick and tired of you all and your lies!" Lovino placed his hands on his ears, as if he was hearing that unbearable chaos of voices inside him even now. "You should all disappear, just fucking die!" he shouted hysterically, now shoving Antonio to get him out of his house. "You should have killed yourself that day, just as you wanted! What an idiot I was for having saved you," he spat at him in the end, and gave the Spaniard a last push that made him fall on his back. The door then got slammed shut and Antonio was laying there on the ground, not able to move. No... Lovino couldn't have said this... he couldn't have wished him dead. "That's not true... I know you didn't mean that! Lovino, I know you weren't serious, open the door, let me explain," yelled Antonio, but Lovino was already running to his bathroom to hide, covering his ears. "I don't fear you, I'm not scared of you! I'm scared of myself!" continued Antonio, punching the door from outside, trying to break it down. "I'm scared of you hearing all these things I don't want you to know about me! I'm scared of you finding out the worst about me and abandoning me! I'm fearing so many, many, many things that I know I cannot hide anymore! This is what I'm fearing, Lovino, not you!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, beating the door until hurting his fists. "I beg you, Lovino, listen to me... you have to believe me, please... you can't just leave..." Now he was also resting his forehead against the door. "Why can't you believe me? What's the point of you being able to hear everything if you can't understand?!" No answer. Lovino was sitting in his bathroom, ignoring every noise, pressing his hands tightly against his ears and hiding his head between his legs, biting down hard on his lower lip. "Shut up, shut up, shut up... stop talking, shut up," he repeated again and again, internally begging for everything to end. Now he had definitely reached his limit and couldn't bear even one more second of this situation anymore that had turned into real torture. He stayed hidden on the bathroom floor until his legs and his hands went numb. After almost three hours, he stopped hearing Antonio's screams and could conclude from the rays of orange light entering the little bathroom window that the day was ending. He had to look at that light with half-closed eyes, as if it was hurting his retina a bit. Letting out a long sigh, he rested his head against the tiled wall and stretched out his prickling legs. Lovino was exhausted and plagued by so many things and so much pain that it all felt like he was carrying a block of iron together with his organs and bones inside his body. He was sick of feeling like this all the time, completely nauseated of constantly having to go through this. The Italian slowly stood up and finally left the bathroom, heading to the front door and leaning his ear against it to make sure that Antonio was really gone. Then he opened the door with slight hesitation and saw no one, just the dents on his door from the Spaniard's fists. After noticing that the other was nowhere near his house either, he went outside and started to walk. Having reached that point, Lovino was now sensing a strong necessity to visit the only place, apart from his closet and the space under his bed, where he had been told that he would find peace and consolation. However, the Italian never did. Every time he went to church with his family, it felt like being punished. The people who were always lighting candles, listening to the Sunday mass or simply kneeling in front of the altar and quietly praying, were full of laments, cries, anger, and other terrible things that brought Lovino a lot of pain, but not a tiny bit of peace. He heard all kinds of pleas, sorrows and despair... it was a suffocating and gloomy atmosphere full of hopelessness, a place where everyone was directing their desperation towards God. When Lovino was small, he used to look at the figures of the Saints and Jesus himself and wonder whether they were like himself: able to hear all these people who were begging for help. And he also wondered how they could bear hearing this constantly and every day, but convinced himself that they weren't Saints, Virgins, angels, and archangels for nothing and possessed the needed force to deal with it. Now Lovino was heading there again, to the place where all his faith was concentrated but also the one he had avoided for such a long time due to the already mentioned reasons... however, his faith was the only thing he had left now, after having reached the limits of his patience. He felt the annoying murmur of the people wandering near the church and glared at them, but they just continued thinking and feeling, and a few voices resounded in his head. So he quickly entered and dipped his fingertips into the holy water to cross himself and head towards the altar. Exactly as he had predicted, he saw some elderly people there who were listing their problems in between their prayers of Ave Maria and the Paternoster. Trying to ignore them, Lovino went to the kneeler in front of the altar, crossed himself again and folded his hands for prayer. "Tell me, God... For how much longer do I still have to bear this? I know, I have asked you this question a lot of times already, but I really need to know how long I have to keep enduring it, or if it's already time for me to give up in this life," he began, resting his mouth on his entwined fingers. "You know better than anyone that the only reason I'm still alive is the fact that taking your own life is a mortal sin, but I can't take it anymore... I'm feeling like I'm falling apart, so answer me: When will it finally end?" he asked, closing his eyes and falling silent for several minutes, listening to the other two people behind him. They were praying for their children, their grandchildren, for someone's health, for someone other's situation, begging for protection, illumination for some lost sheep, and kept asking for miracles, while Lovino was waiting for a simple answer. One that just didn't come. "Answer me... why don't you say anything?" he questioned, frowning and squeezing his fingers. He opened his eyes and raised his gaze to the painting of a heavenly scenery near the churches' cupola. "Why aren't you talking to me? Why do you never say anything even though I speak to you every day? I only want an answer, nothing more!" he finally exclaimed. His voice resounded in the entire building and startled the other people. Lovino leaned against the pillow where he had rested his elbow and looked up once more. "Tell me, God! Why am I able and have to listen to all these people who are expecting something from you?! Why am I the one who has to deal with all this?! What do you want from me, what do you want me to do?! What do you want?!" he started yelling, suffering from his pain and now also from the impotence of not hearing an unearthly voice giving him the solution to everything that was torturing him. "I don't understand you! You have to speak to me, let me hear you the same way you have made me hear everyone else! COME DOWN THIS INSTANT AND TELL ME WHAT I HAVE TO DO TO MAKE THIS STOP!" Now those present got scared for real, and the priest came out to check what was going on. "Say something, for fuck's sake! Stop being such a coward, come down and face the pain of your people, all these people! My pain! Why aren't you coming down, goddammit?! Why can I hear everyone except you, the one I need to hear right now?" he continued, getting up. The priest approached him. "Calm down, young man, come, let's talk somewhere else." He wanted to drag Lovino with him, but the Italian freed himself from his grip. "I don't want to talk with you, but with Him," he objected, directing his tear stained eyes once again at the altar and shaking his head. "I'm sorry, God... but I can't take this anymore... I'm so sorry," he said and turned around. He ran through the hallway while the tears of helplessness were like waterfalls flowing down his face, full speed, without really caring where he went, hearing the murmuring voices and euphoric screams, the feelings resounding in his temples and becoming sound waves, the constant echoes that were predominating any other sound. He couldn't see clearly because of all the tears and his ears were hearing nothing but these people, who were walking by and drowning him in their thoughts and emotions. Him, who wanted nothing more than to escape that torrent of misery. And as if it was a sign from God or maybe a punishment... he was so focused on the thoughts coming at him that while crossing the street, he didn't hear the horn of the car indicating him to get out of the way. His feet reacted a few seconds too late. The screeching of the wheels that made smoke emerge from the pavement and left marks on it, grabbed the attention of various passersby, who watched Lovino's body fly several meters, as if he was a simple doll. Stifled screams, chaos... blood... and a young man, who was lying on the ground, without being able to focus nor move even one extremity. Who had felt his bones break one after the other like sticks. Look at that... so that was how everything would end. This was what he was thinking while trying to breathe but only managing to wheeze pitifully. He could feel something sticky coming out of his nose and his ears... blood. So this was his life, a more than miserable life that would end with a death similar to a street dog's, run over by a car. Lovino kept thinking, although his body didn't obey him and the surrounding voices were turning into a single buzz he couldn't comprehend anymore... and suddenly he felt something else apart from the blood flowing out of his body... tears. While he was hearing less and less, while the scenery around him became white, he started wishing with everything he got to hear one single voice... and promptly got scared, scared of never being able to hear it again. Antonio... he wanted to hear his voice. But instead, he perceived a meow and spotted with his dying eyes four paws and the elegant silhouette of a cat, who sat down in front of him, like someone who came to enjoy a spectacle. Lovino knew that cat. 《Hey, Tortuga... are you here to fulfill my wish?》 Thought Lovino while watching all the people surrounding him disappear... just like he had always wanted.