House of Cards

"Gilbert, no!" Peter screamed in an authoritarian tone, stopping the other joker by shoving him away with both hands. The older one rolled his eyes. "Peter, I hope you are aware that I'm not asking for your permission," he replied with his arms crossed and grinning at the sight of the boy's angry face. "I don't care. You won't go anywhere!" the latter commanded, having raised hell when he had heard of Gilbert's decision to confess his feelings to Feliciano. "You do know that I can escape from you anytime and do what I want, right?" Gilbert threatened him, raising an eyebrow, as though provoking the little one, who seemed to get more and more furious. "Don't challenge me, Gilbert, and don't do any nonsense," Peter warned him as seriously as he could. "I'm neither challenging you nor doing nonsense, I just made a decision and am going to carry it out." The silver-haired one took a step forward, but was shoved once again. "You're worse than a child!" "I don't want to hear that from a brat like you," retorted Gilbert, backing off a bit. Peter took deep breaths, trying to cool off. He knew how obstinate the albino could be. "Gilbert, you're just too stubborn to realize how stupid your decision is."  The aforementioned wanted to object, but didn't have the time. "Wait at least until the kings have returned to the Nation of Cards," Peter suggested, trying to stay patient. "Alright, then let's bring them back right now," Gilbert said, shrugging. "No! What's the use of having brought them here if you just return them when your hormones are troubling you? Just wait, Gilbert. When His Majesty realizes his feelings for the jack, he can return and be with him, and Feliciano will stay here, so you will be able to tell him anything you want," the boy tried to convince him. Gilbert shot him a slightly mistrustful look and crossed his arms again. "Good..." he agreed, knowing that the other one was just trying to hold him back. But this wouldn't stop him... however, there was one thing worrying him, and this was Feliciano's cohabitation with the king. The last time he had seen them, he had the feeling that the person in there was not the Feliciano Vargas he knew, but the Jack of Hearts, who was admiring his lord. "And, Gilbo..." Peter started again after a brief pause, capturing the other's attention once more, who had gotten lost in thought for a few moments. "Don't get your hopes up too high. Even if Feliciano might accept your feelings, you two cannot be together anyway..." the boy warned him, again with that attitude of an adult that didn't suit his appearance at all. "Peter, I seriously wonder sometimes when you've managed to become an old grouch," Gilbert joked. But this time, the younger one did not play along, saying that it was him who was behaving like a child... Peter stayed serious. "I'm not just scolding you, I'm telling you the truth," he began, looking up at the sky of that huge town that was slightly obscured by tall buildings. "No matter how much we want it... we don't belong to this world and neither to this reality," he added quietly, thinking of his other "version", the twelve-year-old boy who was running happily into his fathers' arms, holding their hands and laughing with them, being tucked in by them at night, listening to their bedtime-stories and getting a kiss on the forehead. The boy who was going to school and having friends of his age, with whom he could play without having to worry about surviving in a world that didn't have any place for him. Without him even noticing it, Gilbert came closer and wrapped his arm around Peter's shoulders, giving him a rough hug and making him bury his face into his abdomen. Even though the younger one was behaving like an adult, he was still a child. "Enough, don't be so sappy, or you'll make me shudder," said Peter, slightly shoving him away and wiping a few little tears off that had managed to escape his eyes. "Don't play cold, I know you love it." Gilbert started grinning maliciously, and tousled Peter's hair together with his hat. The latter pretended to fight against the other's hands. Yes, it was true: he liked to be pampered by the one who had raised him like an older brother. Finally, he managed to stop Gilbert, who was still looking at him, amused. The boy examined the older joker's red eyes and that smirk... and thought that he didn't want to see any sadness on the latter's face... "Gilbert, I'm really serious... don't get your hopes up," he repeated quietly, knowing from experience how painful it was to daydream and realize that these dreams would never turn into reality. "Peter, you're talking to the most awesome joker of every world existing, I'm well aware of EVERYTHING my decision involves." Gilbert winked at him, trying to hide the fact that, deep inside him, he perhaps did continue to faintly hope that it would be possible to break the rules and ignore that Feliciano and him were from two completely different worlds. "I hope so, because before your whims get you into trouble, we still have to think about what to do with them," the little one said, stepping away from Gilbert and pointing at two blond guys leaving a certain book store, carrying two big boxes. "So in the end, we had to do as Antonio said," grumbled Arthur, carrying a smaller box than Alfred. The king was smiling happily, excited to go somewhere else than the store owner's house or the hospital. "Stop complaining, I'm sure it'll be fun. Yao is always saying that children are very cute... I think he has a soft spot for them," he said, remembering how his jack was always telling him stories about the time when he, the king, had been small and crawling through the palace. "Don't make me doubt your friend's reputation," Arthur replied and let out a sigh. Maybe it would do him good to not only frequent the places he was used to, and besides, Alfred also needed to go outside; he sometimes had the thought that this hyperactive guy would end up like a caged lion if he continued to stay inside for so long. So they continued walking and talking about different things. Alfred was asking from time to time about the kids in the orphanage, whether they had a good life or were lacking something. It sounded as if he was worried about the orphans in his kingdom, however, apart from being the rightful king, he also had to be a hero, and despite the fact that Arthur was pretending to be annoyed by that savior complex, in reality he was happy that, aside from his immature behavior, Alfred did have a good heart and wanted to make others feel good... as ridiculous as it may sound, he sometimes really seemed like a king from a fairy tale. "Hey, Arthur..." Alfred called him. The store owner turned around unsuspectingly, and the other used that chance to give him a quick, very light kiss on the lips, starting to laugh when he saw Arthur blush, apparently embarrassed by that gesture. "Don't do that in public!" he scolded him with red cheeks and started to walk faster, trying to leave Alfred behind, who was laughing loudly as always. "Don't get angry, it's just that I won't be able to do that in front of the children," the king justified himself and ran a bit to catch up with the other, who was still blushing a bit and also frowning. "You idiot." As an answer to that, Alfred playfully stole another kiss from him. "I told you not to do that!" Arthur screamed for the second time and doubled his speed, so Alfred couldn't see the smile on his lips. Arthur was a bit embarrassed for feeling like a high school girl in love... oh god, the mere thought sickened him, but he just couldn't erase that silly smile from his face and neither avoid licking his lips, hoping to still taste Alfred's mouth. "Alright, and now behave for real, we're almost there," he warned him, finally showing him his face that had become serious again. The young king just nodded, careful to not drop the box with the books Arthur had meticulously chose for the children during the entire week.  They crossed the street and walked along the big fence surrounding the orphanage. Alfred was looking around with curiosity, feeling like during that time he had escaped from the palace, and watching the little faces of the children who were playing tag. Suddenly, his gaze met one of a brown-haired teenager, who seemed very familiar which even made him stop to have a better look at him. "What's the matter?" asked Arthur as he noticed that Alfred wasn't walking by his side anymore. "This guy looks a lot like someone I know," said Alfred, nodding into Lovino's direction, who was walking hunched and with his hands in his pockets. Arthur came closer to see whom Alfred was referring to, and then grimaced. "This one is rude, I recommend you to not approach him, unless you want to be insulted," Arthur warned and resumed his way. Alfred, however, kept his eyes on that boy who could very well be taken for the Jack of Hearts. The latter suddenly turned around as he felt the other's gaze on him again. "The hell are you staring at me, you dumbass?" Lovino asked, directing his chocolate-colored eyes at the other guy's blue ones that were watching him from the other side of the fence. But as they were too far away from each other to hear these words, the Italian just continued walking. "Idiot," he grumbled, trying to ignore the stranger's piercing gaze and entering the building in order to get away from everyone. This wasn't a hard task for him, and would be even easier if he didn't have Antonio behind him all the time. So now, he was grateful that the Spaniard had other things to do at the moment. Which things, he didn't give a damn. Lovino went up the old stairs of the ramshackle building, ignoring the bunch of little and not that little brats, who were running downstairs and evading the ill-humored teenager. Then the latter spotted Francis at the top of the stairs and promptly turned around to go back. "Boy, where do you think you are going?" said the king and quickly went down the stairs, catching up to Lovino and wrapping his arm around the latter's shoulders. "Away from you," answered Lovino, extremely annoyed by the other guy's presence  "Do not be so cruel, boy, you should feel flattered by the mere fact that I am speaking to you," said Francis, holding him tight and not letting him get away. "I'm surprised you and Gilbert aren't best friends with such an ego as yours," the Italian complained. "Do not remind me of that devil... I still have unfinished business with him," muttered the king, getting angry just from hearing the name of whom he thought to be the joker. "Better tell me who Feliciano is." Francis asked casually and with a smile. Lovino's eyes opened wide. "Come on, what kind of relationship do you have with him?" But the adult didn't expect the teenager to wiggle out of his grip, aggressively grab him by his clothes and press him against the wall. "Who the hell talked to you about Feliciano?" Lovino almost growled, but without managing to intimidate the king. "No one. But judging by your reaction, you two must be close. You are brothers, am I right?" "And what if we are? Why do you want to know that?"  Francis removed Lovino's hands from himself, and arranged his clothes, without erasing that gallant smile of his. "Oh, in reality, I do know him as well and need to talk to him urgently," he responded simply and moved his long hair behind his shoulder. Lovino didn't seem to understand. "You know Feliciano? But how?" Francis couldn't help but let out a few elegant and discreet laughs. "Perhaps I do because he is Ludwig's jack. Believe me, boy, never in my life have I seen a clumsier servant than the Jack of Hearts," he exclaimed. The other calmed down, slightly raising an eyebrow. Then, Lovino shook his head and massaged his temple, trying to control himself and not punch that guy for all the nonsense he was saying. "There's really something wrong with your head, you should go to a doctor. There's a hospital nearby, ask Antonio to take you," he recommended instead, and turned around to resume his way. "Do not pretend to not know what I am talking about, you know your brother... the one who is always saying 've~' like an idiot, who is too clumsy for his own good and who seems to be very close to Ludwig, the King of Hearts, the one with blue eyes, blond hair and a not very friendly face," said Francis. Lovino stopped and turned back to him. That exact description scared him a bit, but not only that... also the one of Ludwig, the guy who had been accompanying Feliciano the last time he had seen him. "Nope, no clue," the teenager replied simply, trying to get away from Francis. Feliciano owed him a very good explanation. "Oh, you do know." Francis caught up with him and grabbed his arm, looking serious and slightly frowning. "You are the brother of Feliciano, the Jack of Hearts, and I need to talk to him immediately... it is a serious matter, boy." He tightened his grip around Lovino's arm, who stared at him defiantly. "Solve your serious matters yourself, I won't let you drag my brother into them." The Italian gave him a powerful shove that almost swept the king from his feet and took the opportunity to flee. Feliciano really owed him a good explanation. How the hell had he met that clown who was calling himself a king? He was walking through the hallway, making sure that Francis wasn't following him, and letting out curses in Italian from time to time while clenching his fists. If there was something really bothering him, then it was the fact that Feliciano wasn't telling him everything. And with everything, he meant EVERYTHING. While continuing to walk straight, lost in thought, he suddenly bumped with full force against Matthew and fell on his back. The boy rubbed his nose that was hurting from the blow. "Pay attention, you brat!" Lovino spat at him. Matthew got up with some difficulty and with little tears in his eyes. "Sorry," he apologized with his barely hearable voice. Lovino, however, just walked away without even accepting his apology. "Stupid," muttered Matthew, knowing that the other couldn't hear him, and resumed his path, running out of the orphanage, because he had seen Arthur through the window, the nice guy who was always bringing them books and was one of the few people to notice Matthew's presence and also to treat him well. He obviously didn't give him as much attention as Francis, but the boy liked Arthur. The little one rushed excitedly to the door, where Arthur was entering together with another guy taller than him, who had blue eyes, glasses, and a smile like a movie hero on his face. He seemed to be well received by the kids, while Arthur was simply carrying the books to another room. "Arthur!" called Matthew, making the other one look around but not seeming to find out where the voice came from. "Arthur." Now Matthew tugged at his clothes, and the adult finally spotted him, who was smiling shyly. "Hello, Matt, nice to see you. How are you?" Arthur asked, placing his box on a table and bending down to the boy's height, patting his head in a paternal-looking gesture. "Fine, thank you," replied the little one, lowering his head a bit, due to the weight of the adult's hand. "Here!" He took a dry maple leaf out of his pocket and handed it to Arthur, who accepted it with a smile. "Thank you very much, Matt, I will keep it together with the one you gave me last time. It's very useful as a bookmark." He put it into his wallet to keep it safe, making the child happy. "Now come, pick out a book before the other kids take them all." Arthur lifted Matt and sat him down on the table, so that he could see all the books better. Alfred, in the meantime, had totally forgotten the books and was now playing with the children, spinning them around in the air and letting them scream from excitement. He was feeling like a child himself right now, thinking that he had to use that chance, since he never had the opportunity to play like that. Yao won't surely believe even a word, if he told him what he had done all that time, and if he did, then he would probably scold him, like always. And just at that moment, when he placed the last child on the ground, he realized something... deep inside, he did miss his kingdom, Yao and his life as the King of Spades. But then he turned around to Arthur, who was smiling happily and talking to a little one who was sitting on the table, and got confused: yes, he wanted to return to his kingdom, no doubt about that... but at the same time, also to stay here, with Arthur. So what should he do when it was time to go back, abandon Arthur and get married to someone else? The king walked away from the children, who were watching him, and went towards the store owner standing with his back to him. Arthur turned around as he felt a weight on his shoulder: Alfred's forehead. "What's the matter?" he asked, a bit worried, not being able to see Alfred's face. "Nothing," replied the king, raising his face and showing a smile that was clearly fake, but Arthur chose to not ask any more questions. During the short time he knew the king, he understood that the latter was unable to hide his emotions, being simply too sincere. "And who's this little guy?" Alfred changed the topic, gazing at Matthew, who was sitting on the table and rummaging through the books. The boy looked up. "That's Matthew," Arthur replied in his place, being well aware that the child was very shy with strangers. "Hello, Matthew." The king stretched out his hand, and Matt shook it with slight hesitation. Alfred kept examining him, remembering a painting of himself as a small child that was hanging in his palace... that boy really looked a lot like him back then. "Hello," almost whispered the latter. "Alfred, I have to go look for Antonio. Could you stay here for a bit without causing problems?" Arthur asked. The king showed him a big smile. "Of course, you know you can count on me," he assured. Arthur shot him a last gaze and left. "You should really trust me more, I'm the King of Spades, I could never do anything bad," muttered Alfred under his breath. As soon as Matthew heard this, he stopped his search for a good book and stared at him, wide-eyed. "What did you say?" He thought having misheard him. "That Arthur should trust me more, he's so inconsiderate," Alfred complained, pouting and crossing his arms. Matt shook his head, trying to pronounce his thoughts. "Not that! You just said you are a king..." The little one gulped, staring into the older one's eyes. "Is this true?" Alfred's smile was so wide that all his teeth were showing. "But of course!" The king pointed at himself with his thumb. "I'm the King of Spades in person!" he exclaimed proudly and laughed loudly. The little one was speechless. He reflexively jumped from the table, suddenly grabbed Alfred's arm, lifted his sleeve and ran his hand over his skin. Then he let out a grumble and did the same with his other arm. "You're not a king, you don't have a mark!" Matthew spat at Alfred, who had allowed himself to be examined without a word. "Sure I am and I do!" he objected, freed himself from Matthew's grip and lifted his t-shirt, showing him the big black spade symbol on his side. This took Matthew's breath away for at least five seconds, and his eyes widened even more, as he approached his small trembling hand to touch the mark. He ran his fingers over the squiggly lines, feeling the same texture as on Francis. "So you truly are a king." Matt's voice was barely audible. "Told you so," replied Alfred, trying to hold in his laughter, since the boy was tickling him. The latter finally took his hand away, and Alfred covered his side again. Suddenly, the little one grabbed him by both hands. "Wait here! Please don't leave yet, wait for me!" He let go of him and dashed off as fast as he could, running upstairs and through hallways until he finally found Francis in his dormitory, sitting on the bed and stroking his spare beard, lost in thought. "Francis!" Matthew called him, almost out of breath, abruptly taking him out of his thoughts. "What happened?" asked the king. The boy ran up to him. "I... found..." he panted. "Calm down, calm down, breathe first and then talk to me properly," said Francis, placing his hands on the little one's shoulders. The latter took a breath. "Alright. So what is the urgent matter you want to tell me?" Matt couldn't help getting excited once again. "I found another king!" he yelled happily. "What?" inquired Francis, more due to his excitement than to real confusion. "I found the King of Spades! He has a mark like you! Look, something like this!" Matt headed to the little table next to his bed, opened the drawer and took out a notebook with a pencil. Then he drew, or at least tried to draw the spade he had seen on the body of the supposed king. "That's his mark," he said finally, holding up his drawing. "Alfred..." whispered Francis and started laughing. "Boy, you found Alfred!"  Matt nodded, laughing as well. "Come, bring me to him," Francis asked. Without wasting any more time, Matt returned to where he had come from, this time followed by Francis, who couldn't stop laughing, knowing that he wasn't alone, that Alfred was there too and Ludwig surely as well. They hurried along the hallway, went downstairs and headed to the room where Matthew had left the other king behind, but nobody was there. Panting, the two of them looked around, hoping to find Alfred, but to no avail. "He was there! I'm not lying, I swear, he was there!" Matthew yelled desperately, fearing that Francis would get angry at him. "I believe you, boy... no worries," the visibly disappointed king soothed him. "Ah, I know!" Matt exclaimed suddenly and tugged at the other's hand. "Antonio should know where they are." Having heard this, Francis sped up, walking a few steps ahead of the child, still holding the latter's hand, who was trying to keep up with his pace. Finally, they managed to find the Spaniard. "Young man," Francis called him. "What's the matter, Fran?" asked Antonio, turning around to the two of them, who were running up to him. "Where's Arthur?" inquired Matthew before Francis could say something. "He just left." "And the guy who was with him?" "Him too, they left together," replied Antonio, not understanding the reason for so much insistence. "Say, was it a young man named Alfred?" This time it was Francis who asked, waiting nervously for the answer. "Oh, yes, Al, Arthur's friend." The king started to laugh once again. "Tell me where I can find him, I need to see him!" He grabbed Antonio by the arms and shook him. "Uhm... sure, I can bring you to him tomorrow if you want, it's too late to go today," answered the latter, surprised to see such enthusiasm. Francis finally let go of him and turned towards Matthew, suddenly picking the boy up into his arms. “This is incredible! The Jack of Hearts and Alfred are nearby! I am so happy!” said Francis, hugging Matt tightly, who was laughing, while Antonio didn’t understand what was going on. “I will be able to return to my kingdom, I am sure of it,” added the king. The boy’s smile vanished slowly at the mere thought of the king going back home… Francis finally let him down and turned to Antonio, while Matthew was just standing there and feeling someone’s eyes on him. He turned around and managed to spot Peter from a distance, with his corned hat and his tail that was moving like a snake. Matt remembered his conversation with him and then what Francis had just said… maybe it would have been better to keep quiet about the King of Spades… he wouldn’t have minded keeping such an important secret if that meant that Francis would stay longer. “Hey, Gilbert, we have another problem to solve here,” said the little joker. Both of them had followed Alfred and Arthur to the orphanage. “All in due time, Peter… all in due time,” Gilbert tried to calm him down, but the boy grew even more restless. “And speaking of time,” the older joker added with a malicious grin. “It’s time to visit the Club.” "Gilbo... I seriously hope that our heads will still be on our necks after all this is over," said Peter fearfully. "Kesesese, don't worry, Peter... we already went through worse situations," Gilbert shrugged it off. Peter facepalmed. "Gilbert, don't tell me that you're not sure either about how the king is going to react." "Well... Why not go and see for ourselves?" The albino grinned again and jumped on the building's roof. Peter followed him, still a bit anxious about what was going to happen. Perhaps, Ivan was the most unpredictable one among the kings, so they didn't know how he would react to what he was about to witness. The two jokers jumped from roof to roof, until reaching the hospital where the King of Clubs currently was. They snuck into the building as if it was a piece of cake, after all, hospital security was nothing to these two rogues who had survived such a long time thanks to tricks and deceits. The two creatures reached Ivan's and Feliks' room, where the latter were planning another trip to the roof, keeping in mind that they had to be even more careful than before, because Feliks was being strictly supervised since he had been let out of that horrible isolated room. Judging by Feliks' words, it had been hell to sit in there, but at least Ivan's short visits had made it easier to bear. "Ivan, I swear that if these guys don't leave soon, I'll totally become a murderer, like, I feel super stalked," he complained, as he opened the door and looked to the end of the hallway, where a few nurses were standing guard. "I am sorry that you have to go through all of this, this is my fault," Ivan apologized, smiling as always, while Feliks closed the door and let out a sigh. "Ivan-baby, your little apology obviously isn't enough to make up for all of this... I totally deserve new shoes, and not just any shoes from a shopping center for the 'common people', no, I want a pair of Jimmy Choo," he warned him, making it sound like something serious. In order to not make him angry, Ivan just nodded, trying to hold back a giggle. Feliks let out a loud sigh, headed to his bed and threw himself on it with extended arms, looking at the ceiling. "So boring..." he said and yawned, thinking about something fun to do, but suddenly, one of the men in white opened the door without knocking. He looked around in the room until his eyes stopped at Feliks, who didn't even deign to look at him despite knowing that he was there. "Feliks, you have a visitor," grumbled the man, making the other do a little jump and sit up on the bed, slightly surprised. Just like Ivan, who had never seen Feliks getting visits during all the time he had already spent there. "Me? Who is it?" "No clue, a guy. Hurry up," the man ordered, and left without any explanation. The two patients didn't say anything, and Feliks didn't even know what to say. "Young Feliks?..." Ivan called him, noticing that the latter was lost in thought. Until he looked at the king with a big smile on his face. "It's Toris!" he exclaimed and walked towards Ivan. "It's Toris, I know it! He came for me!" He couldn't help starting to hop from happiness. "Oh God, but I probably look super terrible, how embarrassing!" Now, he was walking to and fro in the room, arranging his hair and his simple white clothes. "You look good," said Ivan with his calm, childish smile. "Really?" Feliks asked anxiously. "Sure," responded the king. His roommate's smile widened, and he started to hop again, moving a few of his hair strands behind his ear. Then he turned around and walked to the door, taking deep breaths as he put his hand on the doorknob. But stopped, before he could turn it. "Come with me," he asked, looking at the king. "But..." "Like, don't be fussy and come, my beloved Toris absolutely has to meet my new friend, after all," said Feliks, grabbing Ivan by the wrist and dragging him with him. The latter was smiling discreetly. Was Feliks perhaps something like a magician? He was the only one able to make him show a sincere smile, the one who had taught him that others' happiness could also make you feel good... that seeing a special person smile could make you want to smile as well and that you could be happy when something good happens to someone else. They walked along the hallway. Feliks didn't let go of Ivan, and the latter could feel him tremble a bit, surely due to his excitement to see the person he had waited for such a long time. From time to time, he could see Feliks' chest rise and fall, as if he was trying to normalize his respiration, while his smile wasn't getting weaker even one bit. They finally reached the entertainment room, where some other patients were receiving visitors as well. Feliks sped up and, still excited, started to look for his beloved Toris... "Feliks..." said a male voice, making the latter turn around together with Ivan... but as soon as he did that... his smile vanished... "Dad..." he said, clenching Ivan's wrist. There was a bearded man with green eyes and slightly gray blond hair. He had dark circles under his tired eyes and a wrinkled face. Slightly bent over, as if he was tired from life itself, he approached his son, who took a step back, still holding Ivan, as though he was afraid of something. "How have you been, son?" asked the man, without wanting to insist. Maybe he had already noticed that a hug would not be possible. "How do you want me to be, being locked up here?" Feliks responded, refraining from his typical way of speaking. The man seemed hurt by the comment, even his eyebrows curved down, showing pain. He looked at the angry Feliks, while Ivan was just standing there. "You know that it's for your own good," said the man hoarsely. "My good would have been to stay together with Toris. With him, I was happy! But no, dad, your reputation is of course more important than my happiness... so don't tell me you're worried about me, after having done anything but ruining my life!" Feliks spat at him with resentment in every word, finally letting go of Ivan, who didn't say anything. "Do you still think this is the reason you are here?" asked the father, looking more and more sad. "I don't think it... I know it. I know that you never accepted me, that you preferred to deny the fact that I'm homosexual. To send me to a psychiatrist rather than to let me be together with the person I love!" Feliks shouted, coming closer this time so that the other could see all his pain and his fury. "What kind of father would do this to his own child?" he hissed, looking at him almost with disgust. "I admit that I never felt comfortable with your sexuality, but this is not why I brought you here," said his father. Feliks' words and attitude felt like stabs to him. "It is! You did it, so I can't be with Toris! And he was sent to Lithuania to forget about me! But this won't happen, because he'll come and get me out of here!" Feliks threatened. "That's not it... you aren't here for that." "I am! You hate Toris as much as you hate me!" "No..." "Admit it, admit that you're grossed out by Toris and also by me!" "No..." "Admit it, admit it, admit it!" "No!" "Why not?!" "Because Toris doesn't exist!" his father finally exclaimed with a deep voice that resounded through the entire room. Feliks and Ivan froze... the king was having the impression as though his heart had stopped for a tenth of a second, looked at Feliks. The latter just stood there, baffled... with his eyes wide open. He stayed silent for a few seconds, and then averted his gaze and forced himself to smile, letting out a few fake laughs. “That’s not true…” he giggled and moved a strand of his hair behind his ear, his hand and voice both trembling. “Obviously not true.” His laughter was a pathetic imitation of someone having fun over a bad joke. “Come, Majesty, I have nothing to talk about with this man, he’s the one who should be locked up in here.” He grabbed the king’s wrist again, wanting to flee that room and that situation. “Remember, Feliks… remember why I brought you here… remember all the times I found you talking to yourself in your room or on the telephone with no one being at the other end of the line. Or when you were leaving for a date all alone or when you tried to escape, and we found you at the bus station, completely alone. Toris never existed.” “SHUT UP!” yelled Feliks at the top of his voice. A few tears started to escape from his eyes, as he remembered the day the men in white had appeared in his house and dragged him out of his room, despite him struggling and screaming… Toris hadn’t helped him… No matter how much he kept screaming in that padded cell he had been locked in after having bitten, scratched and kicked the male nurses, Toris had never shown any sign of life… and neither when they forced him to swallow these pills that made him see his sad reality, his goddamn lonely life where nobody ever accepted him, where he was more than aware that he was different from everyone else and fated to be alone forever… “Toris never existed… you have never been with a person like that,” his father insisted. Feliks covered his ears with his hands. “YOU LIAR!” he almost screamed his lungs out. That scream broke Ivan’s heart into a thousand little pieces… to see him standing there wide-eyed with his hands on his ears and shedding endless tears… was like watching him collapse together with his smile and sarcasm, his boundless optimism… everything was shattering from his uncontrollable weeping. The image the king had of Feliks was crumbling and falling apart among painful crying due to an insanity provoked by sadness, by the desperate wish to be loved and accepted… so similar to Ivan himself. “Feliks, son,” Feliks’ father said, approaching the latter, who gave him a few frenetic slaps. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me!” he yelled, his face wet from all the tears, and stepping back as far as he could. “Don’t touch me, I don’t want to be touched by anyone.” Hugging himself, he ran to his room. His father wanted to follow him, but Ivan got in his way. “You have hurt him enough,” said the king, trying to stay firm, and shot a last glance at that man, who put on his exhausted expression again. Then, Ivan ran after Feliks to their room. Ivan opened the door and saw his roommate on the floor, next to the sock where he was keeping his pill collection. A few were lying around and the others in Feliks' hand, who brought all of them to his mouth, perhaps in a fit of insanity. At that moment, Ivan remembered the other saying that it was possible to die if you took all of them at once. The king reacted immediately and grabbed Feliks' wrists from behind, wanting to take away the pills, but too late, they were already in his mouth. So Ivan wrapped his arm around him and used his other hand to force the other's mouth open. "Spit it out!" he ordered, struggling with Feliks, who kept resisting with all his might. But Ivan was stronger. "Let me go!" Feliks yelled, still wriggling in Ivan's arms, who was holding him from behind and immobilizing his hands and everything, making them both fall to their knees. "I won't let you kill yourself," replied the king, holding him even tighter. Feliks was crying at the top of his lungs. "You don't understand, Ivan. Why should I be alive, if there's no Toris coming for me?! I don't want to stay here! I've had enough!" he screamed, his tears running over his face. He was crying with such force as though he wanted to lose his voice, in order to stop calling for someone, who would never come to save him from that nightmare. "Don't you see that I am here?" Ivan whispered into his ear, trying to turn that forced embrace into a gentle, soothing one... "I am real, Feliks... I am here with you, just look at me," he insisted, while the other continued crying loudly, not wanting to listen to him. Thinking that his world was becoming dark again, and terrified of the mere idea of being lost in that darkness of abandonment. "Come on, Feliks, you can't collapse... because if you do, if someone like you falls apart, then what will happen to me?... Come, look at me... notice that I am here," Ivan was almost begging, feeling Feliks' body become weak from all that weeping, how he was slowly leaning his back against the king's chest, trembling and hiccuping while still crying bitterly, as if he would never stop. No... Feliks couldn't collapse, not him, the person who had taught Ivan what happiness was. He couldn't give up, because then this would mean that sadness and loneliness were more powerful than the will to be happy... no... this couldn't happen. "I am real..." Ivan whispered again, now hugging Feliks for real, who had still not stopped crying and was just perceiving the king's breath near his ear... They were sitting on the ground, with the king soothing his roommate, who was still sobbing and had burning eyes. Being held by the King of Clubs who had never thought that he would be able to comfort someone, the icy king who was trying to reduce the freezing cold of his own loneliness, was slowly melting away someone else's sadness. And so, Feliks finally grew tired of crying in Ivan's arms. His eyes weren't obeying him anymore, his throat couldn't produce another sound, his body became exhausted, and he fell asleep, leaning against His Majesty, who was watching over him, fearing that the loneliness would come and swallow him alive... but no, they weren't alone anymore. Clutching Feliks, Ivan turned his gaze to the little window in their room where the full moon was showing, and forgot about himself for a moment, wondering about how Feliks' life would look like in another world... Would there really be a Toris to comfort him? That Toris he was longing for so much and whom his mind invented? Looking at the shining stars, he then made a wish, asked them to let that vain, rebellious, brutally honest and cheerful guy find his Toris, his real Toris... a person who would get him out of that clinic after Ivan himself had to return to his kingdom. He was wishing for it so badly, he completely forgot about his own desires. Right now, at the same time, someone else was also watching that same moon and asking questions to the night as though it had the existential answers for everything. King Ludwig was walking next to Feliciano, directing his blue eyes at the moon and thinking about that conversation he had with the Italian, where his jack's real feelings had been confessed by someone who was exactly like him. Ludwig was still wondering how true all of that might be, but what was tormenting him even more at that moment was his own confusion, his constant nervousness and the way he had started to look at this Feliciano... Feliciano, however, was excited, because he was about to finally meet his brother after several days. Soon, he spotted the gate of the orphanage, but before reaching it, he stopped. Ludwig needed a few moments to stop as well, since he was too immersed in his thoughts. "Uhm... Ludwig, could you wait here for me?" Feliciano asked, a bit embarrassed. The king seemed a bit annoyed by that request. "Why?" he inquired, crossing his arms. "Ve~ because I don't want my brother to swear at you," Feliciano replied, laughing nervously as he remembered the last time they met. Ludwig thought that this was reasonable, since that guy named Lovino wasn't exactly a person you could call "friendly". The king sighed and relaxed his expression. "Alright, then I will wait here," he said, receiving an effusive hug from Feliciano, who quickly thanked him and then headed to his and his brother's usual meeting place. The latter was already waiting for him, peeking out from between the fence's bars. "Feli!" he called him, trying to not raise his voice too much, as soon as he saw his brother. "Fratello!" The younger one sped up until he was standing in front of his twin, and once again, Lovino was trying to hide his smile, while Feliciano was openly laughing, happy to see his brother... until he unconsciously directed his gaze to the side and saw a backpack next to Lovino. He looked at the older one, silently asking for an explanation. Lovino understood immediately. "Feli, non ce la faccio più (Feli, I can't take this anymore)," he said, trying to get even closer to his brother, who felt pain in his chest after hearing these words. "Escapemonos… Andiamo via, tornare a casa del nonno (Let's escape together... go far away, return to grandpa's house)," the older one added, staring directly into Feliciano's almond-colored eyes, who really didn't know what to say. They had planned to run away together, but after their eighteenth birthday, not now...  "Va bene (Alright)," he agreed finally with a firm voice. Lovino smiled and stretched out his hand in order to playfully tousle his hair. Perhaps he would have to run away from home as well and take Ludwig with them despite his brother's protests, until the king could return to his kingdom... oh god, they would get in so much trouble, but it would be worth it, they could fight against the entire world to get back together, just like they should have been all their life but were never allowed to. They would finally live like brothers and make up for all the time spent far away from each other. "Fratello..." Feliciano called Lovino while the latter was picking up his backpack. "Che cosa succede? (What's the matter?)," asked the older one, afraid that his brother had changed his mind. "Ce la caveremo, vero? (We'll get by, right?)" "Certo Veneziano, che andrà tutto bene (Sure, Veneziano, everything will be alright)," Lovino answered him, using the nickname their grandpa had given the younger one, trying to make him feel a bit safer. Feliciano smiled, a little calmer now. The twins shot a last look at each other, then Lovino put on his backpack and walked a few meters to an old but tall tree, climbing on it, careful to not slip or step on some rotten branch. The plan was to climb to the top and then jump to the other side of the fence... or rather was, until he made a wrong step and almost fell, letting out a scream. But luckily, he managed to wrap his arms around the trunk, scraping his hands and arms in the process. "Are you alright?" asked Feliciano, running to where his brother was trying to climb on the tree again. "Lovino?" the two boys suddenly heard Antonio's voice and paled. "Lovino, what are you doing here?" asked the Spaniard, coming closer while the latter was trying to climb faster. Antonio narrowed his eyes and saw the backpack on Lovino's back and also Feliciano on the other side of the fence. He understood what was going on. "Lovino, get down from there!" he ordered. "Fuck off, you bastard, I'm going to leave this place!" the teenager screamed at him. Suddenly, he felt someone drag him by the foot. "Let go of me, idiot!" he snapped, but Antonio was stronger than expected and stopped Lovino from climbing any further. "I won't let you do something as dumb as that," replied the Spaniard, almost hugging Lovino's foot while pulling him down. Finally, he managed to make him fall from the tree. "Brother!" yelled Feliciano, seeing his twin fall and hearing the sound of a few branches break thanks to Lovino's weight. "Run!" the older one commanded, but the scared Feliciano didn't move. "Run away!" And finally, the younger one obeyed and fled at full speed. The bruised Lovino, in the meantime, managed to get up, facing a distressed Antonio. "Why did you do that?!" he screamed, not caring anymore about raising his voice. "Because you'd get into trouble, and Feliciano as well. You can't just escape and hope that there won't be consequences! Do you have a clue how many people you can affect with your recklessness?" asked Antonio, seeing the fury in Lovino's eyes. "I do and I don't give a shit! I can't bear living here anymore, as long as I can be with my brother, everyone else can go to hell! And you too, who only cares about his ass not getting involved!" "That's not true, I'm worried about you." "Antonio, just spare me that bullshit, okay? I'm not a kid anymore... and know exactly that no one gives a damn about me," the teenager muttered the last part and wanted to leave, but Antonio shoved him out of the blue, with so much force that Lovino's back hit the fence. "Never say that again," the Spaniard said in a deadly serious tone, making Lovino angry. "What? Are you hurt that I didn't swallow your act of the kind guy who worries about the poor devil that nobody likes? Just get over it. I already have." He tried to escape again, but Antonio shoved him one more time and with even more force. "Dios, Lovino! How can you be such an idiot?" The Spaniard was now really mad, confusing Lovino who had never heard him insult someone before. "You are the idiot here!" he snapped. "Stop pretending already, you're making me sick! Believe me, I'm well aware that no one in this shitty world likes me apart from my brother, and that you treat me well just to please yourself. But in reality, you're like all the others who can't even stand me... I'm serious, Antonio, stop your cruel games already!"  Antonio pressed him roughly against the fence. "Cruel games? The only one cruel here is you, Lovino." The Spaniard stared him right into the eyes. "Just notice it already..." He was almost begging. "Notice what? That you're pitying me?" inquired the boy, grinning with cynicism, perhaps mocking his own sad fate... however, this made Antonio even madder. He muttered a few Spanish swear words, then grabbed Lovino's face and kissed him right on the lips. He was such an idiot, such a dumbass, such a fool... this was what Antonio was thinking about himself while holding Lovino tight, feeling the latter struggling with him, full of fear, keeping his lips shut. And Lovino, for his part, was feeling his face being captured in the older one's hand, their mouths pressed against each other in something that should resemble a kiss. The teenager was completely baffled, and, realizing that he wouldn't be able to shake off Antonio's grip, acted by mere instinct and did the first thing that occurred to him: to punch Antonio in the face. The other immediately let go of him, a river of blood pouring out of his nose. "Ouch!" screamed Antonio, placing his hand on the blood and returning to reality... he looked at Lovino, who was breathing heavily, pressed against the fence, and realized what he had done... "Lovino... I..." he began, still seeing fear on the other's face, and decided to flee. Like a real coward. What the hell would happen now?