Lovers who Uncover

“You'll be given love You'll be taken care of You'll be given love You have to trust it Maybe not from the sources You have poured yours Maybe not from the directions You are staring at Twist your head around It's all around you All is full of love” Björk - All is full of love Colors... there was nothing but colors... colors, sounds, sensations, emotions. Music, light, heat, humidity... life. The LSD's hallucinatory effect invaded Antonio's neurons while he was trying to touch the colorful spots and memorize what Lovino's skin felt like. It was as if he could sense the movement of each one of his cells, as if he could find the mysteries of the universe in the Italian's chocolate-colored eyes, and as if the contact of their lips would reveal to him every single taste that existed in the world. While running his fingers over Lovino's face, he could read the latter's sadness, as though it was embossed into his skin.  And Lovino, for his part, was also passing his hands anxiously over Antonio's upper body without averting his gaze from the other's beautiful green eyes. Eyes as green as a forest, as an emerald, as nature itself! And in addition to that, Antonio's hair was as brown as the earth, his skin possessing the cinnamony color of the roots of old trees, and his taste so salty as if Lovino had been drinking seawater. So much perfection in a moment he knew wouldn't last forever. Was that the reason for these periods of time to be that short-lived? Because a rational mind wouldn't be able to bear such a pure state of perfection? Oh, but he didn't care anymore. The only thing that mattered was kissing Antonio, seeing the sounds, hearing the colors and letting himself be carried away by a whirlwind of rainbows, enveloped by the music that was sounding even more distorted than before. The two of them were also seized by bliss, by a euphoria they confused with love, and by the desperation of freeing themselves of their unnecessary clothes. They wanted to run their hands over each other's skin, to read all the stories told by scars, moles, birthmarks, scrapes from their childhood, and burns. Everything. Absolutely everything. Without thinking twice, they took each other by the hand, like two lovers from an epic novel, and ran out of the club, admiring the collection of lights offered by the city's night scenery. It was beautiful; as if they were seeing a firmament full of stars and galaxies, a milky way that was within their hands' reach. They kept running. Antonio had not the faintest clue where they were going, and Lovino, still under the effect of the acid, seemed to barely notice the direction they were heading to and just guided the Spaniard through the shabby streets that were looking like a place straight out of a fantasy book in their eyes. The only thing Antonio could make out was the door of an old, abandoned building. Lovino opened it, and they went upstairs which felt like climbing up a steep mountain to Antonio, but Lovino was still guiding him, like a guardian angel who was leading him to paradise, so the Spaniard just followed him. And before he knew it, Lovino was already letting himself fall on an old mattress and pulled him along in order to continue where they had left off at the nightclub. Sex had never been that perfect for Antonio before. He could hear every single one of Lovino's moans, could see every millimeter of the latter's skin crawl just caressing it, was kissing the Italian's body and leaving a small trail of saliva on it, marking the other as his, could perfectly witness how Lovino's muscles contracted from pleasure and noticed his partner’s pupils widen whenever their gazes met. Lovino was clinging to him with probably a bit too much force, but it was as if they were bound to fuse into a single body. The heat from inside Lovino was spreading through Antonio's entire organism and concentrating in his chest, setting his heart on fire. And Lovino, who was letting the other do whatever he wanted with him and being trapped in his arms, ironically felt free at the moment. Yes, assigning the control over his body to somebody else for once, letting himself be owned by another person was liberating for him… Forgetting that he had a body to handle, allowing another person to enter it was as if they could also enter his mind and take over everything existing there. And at the same time, he felt protected in that tight embrace that was a bit painful, yet still pleasant. “Don’t let go,” Lovino said, as he arched his body and felt Antonio’s hands all over his back. “Don’t let go!” He buried his fingers into the Spaniard’s hair, while his words resounded in the latter's head like a distant echo. No, he wouldn't let go, he would never let go… he would hold Lovino's hand until the very end and beyond. Antonio slowly opened his eyes, trying to recognize the place where he found himself, but the only thing he saw was an old apartment with walls blackened from soot stains and with thick brown curtains that barely let in any sunlight, making the room even darker.  Lying naked on the old mattress, he stretched and turned towards the guy, who was fast asleep with his back to him. The Spaniard smiled, having noticed that Lovino was nude as well, and listened to his calm breathing, trying not to laugh out loud when he spotted the hairy mess the Italian currently had on his head with that odd curl sticking out funnily. Antonio ran his fingers over Lovino's neck just to see his neck hairs rise, and heard the latter let out an incomprehensible moan in his sleep, making the Spaniard smile again and descend his hand along the Italian's back, noticing the other's vertebrae stand out due to how thin he was. He touched each of them with his finger, counting them, and then passed over to Lovino's ribs that were visible as well and stroked his side, enjoying feeling Lovino move under his touch like a kitten that was being petted.  He approached his partner even more, hugging him and gently kissing his shoulder several times, managing to perceive his scent... hazelnuts... that was what his skin smelled like. And then made himself more comfortable, pressing his body close to Lovino's and intended to take his hands. But as soon as he was about to do that, Lovino woke up, opening his eyes, and the first thing he did was to frown and roughly free himself from Antonio's embrace. "Get off me!" he commanded hoarsely and wanted to get up, however fell back on the soft mattress instead. "Everything hurts," he grumbled, rubbing his hips. "That's my fault, I suppose," Antonio replied, smiling as always and resting his cheek on his palm in order to admire the other, who was cursing in Italian. "Fuck you," was everything Lovino had to say to that, turning around on his stomach. "Sorry for being such a stud horse, Lovi," the Spaniard joked, climbing on top of the other, who was struggling to get him off. "Ah, where are we, by the way?" he asked, still trying to hug Lovino, who continued to shove him. "That's my grandpa's apartment. Or rather used to be,” Lovino replied, looking for his pants and reaching out for them, pulling them towards himself. "He moved or something?" Antonio was now using his arms as a pillow and admiring the black walls and ceiling. "No, there was a fire, and he died." Lovino took his phone out of his pocket. "Oh... I'm sorry," the Spaniard said, a bit saddened. "I'm not," Lovino answered in a casual tone and looked at the time on the phone screen. "Shit, it's already noon," he complained, before the other could say something more. "What?!" Antonio jumped up from the mattress and headed to the window, moving the curtains to the side and narrowing his eyes due to the intense sunlight attacking them. "Oh no, Francis will kill me!" he exclaimed in desperation while running around and looking for his clothes, tripping and hopping as he dressed himself, since he was trying to put on his pants and t-shirt at the same time, all under Lovino's annoyed gaze. "What the hell?" The Italian was dressing himself with all the calmness in the world, twisting his mouth in pain from time to time. "I had to turn in an essay at nine, and Francis warned me yesterday that I couldn't miss it. I'm dead, I'm dead," the Spaniard repeated anxiously, putting on his shoes as fast as he could. "Would you mind if I went ahead?" he asked, trying to arrange his hair. "Suit yourself," Lovino replied, continuing to get dressed. Antonio gave him a quick kiss on the lips that wasn't reciprocated and rushed away. He needed some time to identify the street and, asking people from the neighborhood, finally managed to get to a bus stop. Having gotten off the bus a few streets from his house, he had to run again, being received by his mother's scolding. She was on the verge of tears, since this was the first time her son had disappeared for the entire night without a word and returned at noon of the following day. Antonio kept apologizing over and over again while hurrying to his room and filling his backpack with every book he could find on his desk. Then he apologized for the hundredth time and even peppered his mother with kisses, promising that it would never happen again. After that he ran again, this time to university, where he could almost hear Francis' reprimands. And indeed: upon arriving, the first thing he saw was his friend's furrowed brow, an expression that didn't suit him in the slightest. "Before you say something, forgive me!" Antonio said, trying to catch his breath when he finally reached his friends. "The hell have you been, man? We were calling you all morning, and your mom said you didn't return home. We thought that Lovino kidnapped you and took out your organs," asked Gilbert who also looked worried. "So? Would you now be so kind as to tell us where you have been?" Francis had now taken on an arrogant attitude, like always when he was angry with someone. Not daring to face his best friend and averting his gaze to all sides, Antonio scratched his neck, searching for a good excuse. "Well, I've been in a club with Lovino, and we kinda lost track of time..." He giggled nervously. "For more than twelve hours?" Francis raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. "Look, Francis, I was having fun with Lovino, so I really didn't think it would be that late. We went to his house after that and continued to party there, and before I knew it, it was already daytime. It was seriously not my intention to miss the lecture, you know I'm not that kind of person," Antonio said, full of regret. Francis narrowed his eyes, searching for a sign that Antonio was lying. He knew the latter perfectly, so he obviously didn't believe him. "That's right," Gilbert intervened, who was as always trying to relieve the tense atmosphere, so he gave the other two a heavy pat on the back, wanting to calm them down. "What was done, was done, there's nothing we can do about it. If Antonio didn't do anything bad even once in his life, I would've started to think he's a robot or something," he joked, wrapping his arms around his two friends' shoulders and starting to walk to the next lecture. Antonio just laughed, while Francis kept casting him strange looks from time to time. The Spaniard had to make a superhuman effort to not fall asleep in class. He was listening to the professor, but his head kept begging for a bit of rest, however, he couldn't give in, since there were still tasks and responsibilities awaiting him. He had to talk to his professor in order to be given a second chance to turn in his work and, once having returned home, beg his parents for forgiveness (again). Having to behave well... what a pain... playing the role of the good boy... another pain... keeping his friends from worrying... what a damn pain! Always smiling and pretending that everything was alright, and he wasn't wasting away from every day's boredom... someone kill him, please... And when the management classes were almost over, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out, careful to not be seen by his professor. Recognizing Lovino's number, he found a simple text message: "Feliks is inviting us to go out. You'll come with me." Antonio bit his lower lip at the sight of that command and started to write a reply under the table, saying that, unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to come. But as he was about to send it, something suddenly stopped him. He looked up to the blackboard full of notes and some numbers, then at his fellow students who were automatically listening and copying the notes, and out of the window where everyone was following the protocol of socializing and living the typical university life. For a moment, it all looked to him like an old black-and-white movie, a silent movie where everyone moved exaggeratedly in a horrible imitation of life. Thus, he erased his message and wrote instead: "See you at 10." He put his phone away and smiled as the always happy and healthy guy that he was. Because no one would ever question a radiant smile, nor see the rottenness that a seemingly normal person like him could hide behind it. When the lecture was over, Antonio almost flew out of the room. He desperately wanted to come home, sleep until nighttime, and then meet with Lovino... but no, homework wouldn't get done by itself. "Hey, hey, where are you going in such a hurry?" Gilbert had to stop him in the hallway, since the Spaniard was almost running. "Home. I have a mountain of work to do, so much that Lovino could end up leaving me, and I'd forget what a social life is until after graduation," Antonio exaggerated with a sigh, arranged his backpack and started to walk backwards. "See you later and tell Fran to stop being such a drama queen, I'm going to be a good boy." He laughed and finally turned around to leave, as cheerful as always. Yes, he would keep being a good boy. At least, until nighttime. Back home, he had an almost one hour-long conversation with his parents where he vowed to never do something like last night ever again. After that, he went upstairs to his room and took out all the books, merely leafing through them and doodling lines in his notebook, wishing for time to pass faster and constantly looking at the clock. Its hands just didn’t seem to have any intention to move towards the ten. He was trying to read, but didn’t find any sense in the paragraphs, thus, was forced to read them over and over again while his eyelids threatened to close. But he didn’t allow it, he had to stay awake for Lovino’s sake. “What have you done to me, Lovi?” he asked into nothingness, noticing that he couldn’t stop thinking about that guy. To hell with homework and their meeting time, he would leave now before going insane from sitting in his room full of books, tasks, normality, boredom, and everything that was suffocating him from time to time. “Where are you going?” his mother asked when she saw him going downstairs, about to grab his keys. “To Francis, I need him to explain a few topics to me, and he also invited me for dinner,” Antonio lied with his frightening ability to look his mother in the eyes and smile at her like the model child he had been his entire life. His mother didn’t look pleased and put her hands on her hips, examining him for a while until she finally agreed. The Bonnefoy and the Fernández families were good friends and knew that their sons were thick as thieves. So if Antonio would go to Francis, he would be in good hands. Antonio hurried out of the house, noticing that the sun was about to set, which meant that soon, he would see the Italian again. If the latter only knew just how much the Spaniard had been thinking of him since the moment they had said goodbye at noon, he would surely insult him and call him obsessed or something... which wouldn't be too far from the truth, actually... perhaps, Antonio was really starting to obsess over him. But he didn't care, not as long as he could continue being by his side, next to his little dose of life, his reminder that he had blood running through his veins and a heart that was beating like crazy when he was with Lovino. Lovino, in the meantime, was sneaking out of his house. That morning, he had to climb to his window in order to get into his room, glad for having been clever enough to lock his door the previous night. Once inside, he put on his pajamas, tousled his hair, messed up his bed, and went to the kitchen, as if he had just recently woken up, which wasn't even entirely a lie. There, he explained to his worried mother that he had been sleeping like a log and couldn't hear neither her nor his brother, who had left for school, call him through the door. And that night, the same history repeated itself. Lovino tiptoed through the hallway and carefully turned the key inside the lock. And when he was almost outside, he was suddenly stopped. "Are you going out again?" Feliciano asked, standing in the dark entrance. Lovino came to a halt and threw back his head with a snort, before he turned around and faced his brother, who was looking at him with worry. "Yes, Feliciano. So what? Are you going to tell Mom and Dad, so they can throw me into another hole for addicts?" he asked sarcastically and raised an eyebrow, knowing that Feliciano could be quite annoying for most of the time, but would never betray his own brother, even if it was for the latter's good. The younger one looked down and just started to nervously crumple his t-shirt, opening and closing his mouth several times. But the words just didn't come out, or more precisely, were all already spent on scoldings and pleas towards Lovino and also prayers to God to help his brother to reflect on what he was doing. "Be careful," was everything he managed to utter in a quiet voice and glanced at the other, who frowned like always. "Just go to sleep already," Lovino replied and closed the door, leaving his twin alone in the darkness of the house. He started to walk, his steps becoming faster and bigger... to such a point that he began to run as fast as his muscles allowed him to. He wanted to flee as far away as he could from that house, that street, that avenue, that neighborhood. To escape! To leave everything behind! But no matter how much he ran, it was as if the scenery stayed the same, as if he was running on a treadmill that would never get him anywhere. And everything started to suffocate him: the fatigue, the cold wind that was entering his nostrils and making his nose burn, his heart pounding against his ribs and making it hard to breathe, and the sight of his brother's sad face, accentuated by the darkness of the house. The shadows of the night were trying to seize his ankles with claw-like hands and make him fall, until Lovino managed to spot the green shine of Antonio's eyes from the distance, and reached out towards him. "Hey Lovi, what's the matter? Is someone following you?" Antonio asked when Lovino came running from around the corner and almost threw himself at him. The Italian was trying to catch his breath while taking Antonio by the arms. The latter looked back, in an attempt to find Lovino's persecutor, but didn't see anyone. Lovino took another deep breath, returning to his senses, and straightened his back, putting on his eternal ill-humored expression once again and letting go of Antonio. "Let's go," he ordered merely and started to walk, still panting. The Spaniard just smiled and followed him to the place, where Feliks seemed to have invited them to.  They didn't talk, but the silence wasn't bothering them or anything; the Spaniard was shooting Lovino sideways glances filled with curiosity, but the latter kept his eyes on the path, making Antonio try to guess what was probably going through his head, what things were weighting on his conscience, what kind of monsters were stuck in his mind... which made his curiosity grow to such a point that it caused even a tingling sensation in his stomach. And before they knew it, they had already reached a discreet bar that didn't inspire a lot of confidence, mostly because of all the elegant black cars parked outside. From inside the place, they heard voices, laughter, and music. Without caring for the shady appearance of the bar, Lovino simply went in, followed by Antonio, who was a bit more nervous than the Italian. As soon as they entered, the latter was effusively greeted by Feliks. "Lovi, welcome! Oh... you've brought the good boy too, welcome to you as well." Feliks brought a glass of vodka to his lips and took a big sip. "Thank you," replied the always polite Antonio, noticing Ivan sitting together with various men in a corner. Ivan raised his glass as a greeting, and was greeted back by the two young men, a bit shyly. "Please make yourselves comfortable, we are on familiar terms here," Feliks added, pointing at all the tables in the bar. "Hey, before we do that..." Lovino began. "No business talk for now! Like, I'm trying to have fun here, relax, your drugs can wait." Feliks shook his head and gave the Italian a shove, heading to the jukebox. "Hey!" Lovino protested, but the other had already stumbled past him, swaying his hips like always. The Italian and his companion took a seat. Feliks placed the glass of vodka on the jukebox's glass and shuffled through the disks, noticing that there was no good music in there. Almost at the end, he finally found something that could please him. "Melancholy in the shape of songs," he said quietly and started playing "Try, try, try" by the Smashing Pumpkins, took his glass again and returned, drinking large sips out of it, while Lovino was tapping the table with his fingers in slight desperation. Feliks rolled his eyes, pulled up a chair and sat down next to him, stretching out his hand as a sign that he could give him the money now, which the other did without any complaint. With no need to add another word and as if he was some kind of strange Santa Claus, Feliks pulled out a small bag with some crystalline powder and handed it to Lovino. "Don't you have anything else?" the other inquired as he saw the methamphetamine. But Feliks merely shrugged. "Lovi, there is nothing better than crystal to have a super great party night with your friends, like, cocaine is really overrated," Feliks said, waving his hand. Well, in reality, he was addicted to methamphetamine himself; as long as it was meth, it didn't matter to him whether it was to be injected, inhaled or smoked. Lovino didn't object anymore and poured the powder on the table, asking Antonio for a card or something similar. The Spaniard took out his student ID, feeling like a real criminal for using it for such a purpose. What followed was the familiar process of making lines and sniffing them. First Lovino, then Feliks, and even though they were doing it in public, no one seemed to care, not even the bar's owner. Feliks laughed out as he threw his head back, rubbing his nose several times, just like Lovino, while Antonio was yawning from time to time, lulled by the music in the background and looking as if he would fall asleep any moment. "Didn't sleep well, huh? Like, I'm sure it was because of Lovi." Feliks grabbed Antonio by the arm, the latter trying to move away. "That's not it... I just couldn't rest today," he replied, giggling nervously and still backing away as far as he could from the other. And exactly then he noticed Lovino looking at him with a serious but relaxed expression on his face and offering him the rolled-up banknote he had just used to inhale the drug. So Lovino was inviting him to enter his world once again. "That'll wake you up," Feliks whispered, giggling mischievously and looking at the white line that was still on the table. Antonio got scared. That stuff wasn't just a marijuana joint or an acid trip, no. According to the news and pro-health commercials, that drug was highly addictive physically and psychologically. In other words: it was poison. The Spaniard knew all that, and he also knew that Lovino and Feliks were slowly killing themselves with what they were doing. He knew that it would probably feel good at the beginning, but afterward, it would be like playing Russian Roulette. Yes, things like that were no joke. So why the hell was he accepting that banknote, then? Why was he approaching that white line? Why was he perceiving the burning sensation in his nose and the slightly unpleasant feeling of the powder passing through his nasal septum? Well, because he wanted to see what Lovino was seeing, wanted that same dose of life, that glimpse at the artificial wonder world, that euphoria, that pounding of his heart, that hot blood running through his veins. He wanted to live. Antonio sneezed a couple of times, and Feliks applauded him as if he had done something really big. "Have fun, boys," he purred, getting up and heading to the bathroom. Only then did Lovino and Antonio notice that he was wearing high heels which was giving him a feminine, no, rather, androgynous appearance. On his way, Feliks passed by the table where Ivan was still chatting with the dangerous-looking men. A few minutes later, the latter got up and followed him discreetly to the bathroom. Opening the door, the Russian spotted Feliks standing there and putting on lipstick. "Make up?" Ivan asked in a mocking voice and smiling like always. "Well, Ivan-baby, a girl always has to look good," the other replied, smiling at his own reflection in the mirror. Suddenly, he heard laughter coming from Ivan, who stood behind him and started to gently run his hand through Feliks' hair and then his cheek. "But, Feliks... you're not a girl." Feliks' smile vanished. The Russian's hand wandered towards the other's chest. "You don't have breasts..." And even further down. "Nor wide hips." Wrapping his arms around Feliks' hips, Ivan was now touching him between the legs. "And a girl certainly doesn't have this." He tightened his grip, which made Feliks let out a stifled scream and lean against the sink as he felt Ivan's hot breath between his ear and neck, while the latter was pressing his body as firmly against him as he could. "You're not a woman, but can't be called a man, either... What are you, Feliks?" He asked with that childish voice that was irritating Feliks so much. Ivan grabbed his hair, forcing him to raise his head and face his reflection. Feliks found himself staring at his own green eyes, his red lips, and his male body that was trying hard to resemble a female one, but instead looking rather like an indefinite shape… Who was he?... Who was Feliks? “Neither man nor woman. Where could someone like you belong if you don’t even know what you are yourself?” Ivan started biting him lightly without taking his eyes off the mirror’s reflection. The other didn’t stop him, looking as if he was pondering over that question. “Nowhere,” Feliks whispered, feeling Ivan’s mouth kiss his neck. “I don’t manage to fit anywhere.” The Russian’s arms wrapped themselves around him once more. “Exactly. This is why you’re looking for someone to be by your side, so you can feel a tiny bit accepted, a little less lonely… you’re such a pathetic being, Feliks.” Ivan’s tone was cruel. He brusquely spun Feliks around and cornered him. “So what? So what if I don’t want to be lonely?” Feliks inquired with a mischievous grin on his face that annoyed Ivan. “Everyone has a pathetic side, even you, Ivan-baby… you, a member of the much-feared Russian mafia, are intending to screw with a poor devil in the bathroom of a seedy nightclub, like… nothing to be proud of.” The other was still smiling, but frowned slightly at these words. Feliks jumped onto the sink and wrapped his legs around the Russian’s hips, pulling him closer. “I am a sad addict to everything that’s making me feel less lonely, and you’re a sadistic pervert who enjoys torturing others. In some way, we do need each other, you know. Maybe that’s why we’re so compatible, Ivan.” He raised his face in order to kiss the other, who didn’t object and kissed him back. After all, Feliks was right. Every person on earth is a bit sick, a bit wicked, and only notices it when they find someone else who is like them, controlled by the same demons. Feliks and Ivan were deeply engrossed in what they were doing, trying not to make too much noise while kissing savagely in that narrow bathroom. It actually looked more like a fight, since they were also scratching and tugging at each other’s clothes. And after barely twenty minutes, they heard a ruckus coming from outside and attempted to ignore it. But couldn’t, as it became too much. “The hell are they doing out there?” Feliks grumbled, not able to continue with the Russian. The two of them peeked out and spotted a fight between drunk (and drugged) people. Everyone seemed to be against everyone. It all had started with a simple discussion about who should pay the bill of one of the tables in the corner, that discussion became heated to such a point that they started to insult each other, and it eventually turned into a fierce battle. Obviously, Antonio and Lovino had joined as well, as one of the beer bottles came flying past their heads. Lovino, being high on meth, was the first one to look for trouble with everyone who crossed his way, and Antonio intervened, trying to defend him, though for him, it was rather something like the playful fights he had with Francis when they had still been small. And now, Antonio was punching a guy he didn’t even know, being cheered on euphorically by Lovino. The Spaniard was hearing the other's voice louder than usual, while his body was bursting with energy and adrenaline, making him feel invincible. One... two... three times he got hit in the face and barely felt it. Noticing that there wasn't any pain, he laughed out and hit back, until he and his opponent both crashed into a table and pushed it over. But Antonio didn't get tired at all, he was just too excited, never had he felt such a rush of energy in his life before, like electric shocks that made him get back on his feet and continue fighting, encouraged by Lovino. Pain didn't exist anymore, and everything was fun, even though he was almost all over the other guy, beating him and getting beaten himself. Everything was so funny and unreal! Suddenly, there were a few loud bangs; Ivan had pulled out a gun and shot into the air, making everyone freeze on the spot. "Gentlemen, please, don't make me waste bullets on you," he said, as calm as ever and with a smile on his face. Everybody looked terrified, except Antonio and Lovino, who burst out laughing at these words. Antonio was dying from laughter, not even knowing where it came from. He just wanted to laugh, as if all the endorphins his body would have produced for the rest of his life had gathered just to be used up at that very moment.  "Let's go, let's go," Lovino said, laughing as well and trying to help the happy and excited Antonio stand up. The latter took Lovino's hand, and they went out on the dark street without saying a word. "I feel great!" Antonio screamed with all his might, hunching over to make his voice sound even louder. The Italian let out a euphoric yell as well. "I can almost reach the stars! Yeah, I'm going to steal them all!" The Spaniard added, starting to jump. "I'll come with you," Lovino replied, raising his hands too and looking up at the sky. "Let's go to heaven and steal these fucking stars that are always mocking us 'cause we can't reach them. Let's go to heaven!.. far away."  Now, they were both jumping. Antonio felt eternal, looking at his and Lovino's raised hands, their fingers so close to the shining little dots... it was such a perfect moment... a moment where they felt so mighty that they were even planning to steal the stars, a unique one, making them feel like gods, able to escape from anything. "Let's go to heaven," Antonio repeated, took Lovino's still raised hands and kissed him, not caring about the blood that was running down his cheek nor his swollen right eye and injured knuckles.      Neither blood nor pain existed for him... nothing mattered while kissing Lovino and being kissed back, swaying under the sky they were trying to touch, to reach with the help of meth, LSD, and vodka. A heaven that would sooner than expected turn into hell.