Lovers who Uncover

When it's good, then it's good It's all good till it goes bad Till you try to find the you  that you once had” Pink - Sober   Lovino and Antonio were simultaneously rolling over the old mattress and bumping their arms and legs together, attempting to find a comfortable position in that narrow space, until they decided to finally wake up. “Good morning, afternoon, night… whatever,” Antonio said, hugging the naked Lovino before completely opening his eyes. “Get off me, you’re like a leech,” the Italian complained, trying to free himself from the also nude Antonio’s arms, but the latter refused to let him go, keeping his head on Lovino's chest. Seeing that he wouldn't get his way, Lovino gave up and instead started to search for his phone on the floor. “You're lucky, it’s barely eight o’clock,” he said. Antonio groaned and pressed his face against Lovino's chest like a baby would do with its mother. “I don’t want to leave,” he complained. He had been skipping classes quite often recently. “Do what you want, I’m leaving,” Lovino announced, trying to escape once more, but the Spaniard hugged him even tighter. “Just a moment, and then we’ll go, I promise.” Antonio slackened his grip and lifted himself a bit, so that his face was at the same height as Lovino's. The other looked at him, frowning. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” The Spaniard brought their foreheads together and brushed Lovino's nose with his own, smiling gently. “You and I against the world.” Antonio gave Lovino a short kiss, the other barely kissing him back, not allowing it to deepen. “Get dressed already,” was everything Lovino replied, making the other let himself fall all over him, suffocating him a bit with his weight. “Ah, Lovi, why did you have to ruin the romantic atmosphere?” Antonio whined like a little kid, while Lovino finally managed to escape from under him. “I really don’t want to leave. Francis has become unbearable, he uses every chance to scold and lecture me, and Gilbert has started to do it as well.” Lovino just got dressed, not really listening to him, while the Spaniard pulled up a piece of a broken mirror that still had traces from the cocaine they had consumed last night, among them a thin white line together with the razor blade they had used to form it. Putting on his shirt, Lovino heard Antonio sniff and turned around, seeing him wipe his nose and sneeze a couple of times. “That was my line, you bastard!” Lovino snapped and approached him with heavy steps. The other just laughed. “Don't be like that, I need it to at least make it to university awake. I’ll buy you some when we meet tonight,” he replied, grinning like an idiot. This irritated Lovino even more, who let out a series of Italian swear words and finished getting dressed, reluctantly waiting for Antonio. After a while, the two of them left the abandoned apartment and sneaked out of the building itself that looked as if it would fall apart any moment. Then they walked down the street, seeing all the kids in school uniforms accompanied by their mothers and passed them, going into the opposite direction and completely ignoring everything happening on the street. Having reached the bus stop, they said goodbye by waving their hand and promised to see each other the following night. Antonio entered the bus, and Lovino continued to walk the street, taking for granted that this would be just another normal morning, afternoon, and also night. Antonio looked out of the window, constantly moving his feet and hands, without really caring what he was seeing outside and putting on a troubled expression when the university's facade appeared in his field of vision and he reached his stop and had to get off, letting out deep sighs of exhaustion. "Antonio!" he heard Gilbert's voice call him, turned around, and saw the latter approach him with hurried steps and worry on his face. "Oh no..." the Spaniard muttered, supposing that the reason for that face the albino was making was him having missed classes for an entire week, and being sure that a long interrogation, a lecture, a reprimand, and then another stupid conversation where the phrase "we're about to graduate" would repeat itself more than ten times would await him. "Sorry, Gilbo, I have classes and am already late," Antonio apologized and escaped before the other could even reach him. "Hey, don't run away, you coward!" he heard Gilbert shout behind him. Recently, everyone had that annoying attitude towards him, not only his friends, but also his professors and parents. As if they had agreed on getting on his nerves. It wasn't as if he was vandalizing the streets or something like that. Alright, so maybe he had missed a few days of classes and didn't get perfect grades in the last exams, and perhaps wasn't seeing his friends as frequently as he used to and to go out a bit more often at night. But that was nothing to fuss over like that, right? Exasperated, he finally reached the class, tossed his backpack near his seat and sat down, trying to remember whether he had done his homework. No, obviously not, since he had barely spent any time home during the last days, just entering it in order to leave his books and go out again. He took out his notebook and a pen and began waiting for his professor, while watching his fellow students, bored, as they were talking about the previous classes and things the Spaniard didn't really care about, hence he turned his gaze to the window, staring at the gray sky and wondering how long the autumn would last. From time to time, he doodled something into his notebook, chewed on his pen, and looked for something to pass the time until he heard the professor close the door behind him. The man greeted his students, who greeted him back at the same time, including Antonio, who was smiling as always and catching the professor's attention. "What a surprise to see you here, Mr. Fernández," the latter said with irony, arranging his glasses and casting him a slightly reproachful gaze. Antonio merely laughed. "Sorry, professor, I had a few inconveniences and couldn't attend." "Well, I am sorry as well, since you failed this subject for having missed too many classes." The teacher calmly headed to his desk. "But it wasn't my fault, I really couldn't come," Antonio tried to explain himself, getting up from his chair. "I am just following the rules, and you haven't presented any kind of justification, either. I cannot do anything for you, so please leave this room." But Antonio didn't move from his spot, which earned him an authoritarian look. "That's not fair!" "Life is not fair, Mr. Fernández, but you can still take a make-up test, you are an intelligent young man, after all," the professor said with the same irony in his voice and turned his back to him, starting to write something on the board which the others started to copy. Not without dedicating a few gazes to Antonio, who cursed between clenched teeth, roughly picked up his backpack and left, still repeating that it wasn’t fair. The Spaniard was walking through the hallway twice as irritated than when he had arrived and thinking that it wasn't fair to fail a subject just because he hadn't shown up for a couple of days. Not wanting to worry about that any longer, he decided to spend his remaining four free hours until the next class at some remote part of the campus, since he didn’t have any desire to go home and get lectured by his mother for having stayed away the entire night once again. Thus, he ended up lying down on a concrete bench in one of the gardens near the library, where other students were reading or hanging out. He looked at the sky that was becoming more and more gray and thought of Lovino and how great it would be to be with him right now and do the things they had done the previous night, just the two of them on that soft mattress, accompanied by a few pills or… That last thought scared him so much it made him sit up. Why was he thinking of drugs? It was strange… he was usually just thinking about Lovino, nothing more. He shook his head, deciding to shrug it off, and lay back down, letting his mind wander off and the time pass, never averting his gaze from the firmament that was so horribly devoid of colors. But still hearing the others around him comment what a sunny day it was and that the morning sky was beautifully blue. In his opinion, they were the ones on drugs… he was seeing nothing but gray. He tried to use the free time to take a nap, but since it was too loud to fall asleep, he ended up pulling out a cigarette and smoking it, wishing it was marijuana and not just simple tobacco. A thought that made him slightly shiver once again. “Since when do you smoke?” he heard the voice of a certain silver-haired guy again. Antonio looked up and met a surprised Gilbert, who had raised an eyebrow and was trying to wave away the smoke with his hand. “Oh… well… I started some time ago. It helps me calm down,” Antonio replied with an open smile, hiding the fact that it was helping him calm down whenever he didn't have anything to get high on. A habit he had learned from Lovino. “I see,” was everything Gilbert had to say to that, after which a strange silence followed, until he directed his red eyes to Antonio’s green ones again. “Listen, Antonio…” he started, but was immediately interrupted by the other. “Gilbert! Gilbert, not this again! Please, you know you're my good friend, but I’m really not in the mood for listening to your advice today,” he said, laughing and moving his hands as if protecting himself from the words that hadn't been spoken yet. “I have no clue why everyone’s saying that something’s wrong with me, ‘cause that's not true. I’m fine, really.” His smile was big and beaming as always, but it didn't seem to have any effect on the still worried albino. “You don’t look fine,” he said quietly, in a tone that didn't suit him in the slightest, him, a guy who was always loud and cheerful. The albino got up, took his things and dedicated another gaze at the still smiling Antonio. “Just take a look at yourself in the mirror,” he added and left. Antonio brought the cigarette to his lips, tilting his head, a bit troubled by Gilbert’s words. He was looking at himself in the mirror every day and was always seeing the same Antonio, who was smiling and full of life. A boring life, just how it always had been. “I am fine,” Antonio repeated, taking another drag from his cigarette and lying down again, looking at his watch. He let out a sigh together with the smoke that escaped his nose and took out his phone in order to send a text message to Lovino. He wanted to spend time with the Italian until his next class, since he honestly didn't have neither the desire nor the patience to stand his friends and teachers. One hour after the message had been sent, Lovino arrived as ill-humored as always. “You really came,” Antonio rejoiced and intended to wrap him into an embrace, but the other moved aside just in time. “Of course I did. You didn't stop bugging me,” Lovino replied with his hands in his pockets and looked at him with a frown. Antonio was still smiling, looking even happier now.  “Have you been at Feliks’ house?” he asked. Lovino sat down next to him, constantly shifting around as if searching for a comfortable sitting position on that flat concrete bench. “Why do you ask?” he inquired, looking around to all sides. “It’s written all over you.” Antonio smiled as if he had caught Lovino playing a prank. “Open your mouth,” he commanded. The other hesitated, but obeyed. There were some blue pills on his tongue that Antonio immediately recognized. It was ecstasy. Taking the Italian by surprise, he pressed his own lips against the latter's mouth and, with a skillful movement of his tongue, snatched one of the pills away, letting go of him promptly after. Lovino wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Gotten used to take what’s mine, eh?” he complained. The Spaniard giggled mischievously and tried to hug him once more. Lovino wanted to move aside again, but it was too late, Antonio had already wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “Don't be like that, Lovi, I promised I’d pay for it next time,” he tried to calm him down, laughing cheerfully. “So? Why did you want me to come? Don’t tell me it was really because you were bored, you never call me for shit like that,” Lovino said, hiding his hands in his pockets once again and bearing the weight of Antonio's arm, while casting him a look of mistrust. “You know me well, Lovi,” the other replied with resignation and pulled Lovino even closer to place his head on the Italian's shoulder. Lovino rolled his eyes. “I’m getting so sick of everyone, I’d just want them to shut up and disappear once and for all… and it scares me,” Antonio admitted, closing his eyes and still smiling. “What’s happening to me, Lovi? Have I really changed like they say?” He started to feel the tingling in his entire body, caused by the ecstasy. “Don’t ask me,” Lovino answered, thinking of how Antonio was reminding him of his own past self. “I want them to fade away, I’m so tired of everything… I just want to be with you, nothing more…” Antonio hugged him with even more force, more and more possessively, almost crushing Lovino who got a bit scared when he felt Antonio’s fingers bury themselves into his skin, not planning to let him go. “Well, then just make them fade away,” the Italian commented, his voice a bit strained due to the tight embrace. The other looked up at him. He understood. “Yeah… that sounds good,” Antonio replied, relaxing a bit and slackening his grip, waiting for Lovino to hug him back while pressing his face against the latter's neck and inhaling his scent. Feeling Lovino's hair tickle his skin and his heartbeat against his own chest. Yes, he would make everything that was suffocating him disappear. And with that thought, he swallowed the almost dissolved ecstasy pill. Time for everything to fade away. Time seemed to have stopped again around Antonio and Lovino. The Spaniard was laughing and Lovino joined him from time to time, while they were playing around like children and feeling the rays of sunlight warm their skin. The sky started to clear up and showed them such a bright and beautiful blue canvas that they had to narrow their eyes while looking up. The energy raced through their entire body which made them move, run around through the campus' gardens like a pair of children. From time to time, they managed to catch each other, not paying any attention to the odd looks they received from the other students, since they didn't care about people who didn't belong to their world anymore. For them, the only thing existing was that energy flowing through their veins and making their hearts pound like crazy. Nothing but the green color and the smell of the freshly cut grass, the sun warming the back of their heads, and the echoing of Antonio's laughter, who skillfully wrapped his arms around Lovino's hips, while the Italian was playfully trying to escape. The two of them fell onto the grass, continuing to laugh until their laughter became quieter and finally turned into soft sighs of satisfaction. Lovino was still breathing heavily while looking at the sky that seemed to be made of watercolors mixed with white fluffy clouds. That painting was accompanied by a few brush strokes that looked like tree branches from the gardens nearby and from time to time, he saw little coffee-colored birds with bright red chests that made everything even more beautiful. The Italian gazed at Antonio, who was also staring up at the sky and got captivated by the other's emerald eyes once again that were shining as if they were not of this world. That green color he adored so much. And Antonio himself finally understood something: that was life, that was everything; a random landscape with lively colors, of tightly holding Lovino’s hand, of listening to the latter's breathing next to him, of feeling the warmth in his fingers and his heart beating against his chest. Of everyone else disappearing from his world, of forgetting about stupid worries like school and people in general. That was life was about, life and happiness... of being together with the one you love in a world made only for the two of you. A world made out of pills. But that was only one side of his new reality. "Antonio," Francis' voice ripped the two of them out of their wonderful dream. His shadow projected itself upon their faces as he bent down a bit for Antonio to see him. "Fran, hi," Antonio greeted, getting up and offering Lovino his hand. They dusted off their clothes under the questioning gaze of the Frenchman, who didn't take his eyes off the Italian. "Won't you introduce me to your friend?" Francis asked with slight hostility. "Oh, true. That's..." "Lovino... I suppose," Francis guessed, not even giving Lovino his hand. Not that latter cared about showing any empathy, either. "Yes. Lovi, this is Francis, my best friend since childhood." Antonio fell silent, waiting for the other two to shake hands or say something, but that didn't happen. Francis was still glaring at the Italian, and Lovino didn't look as if he was planning to pronounce even a word. "Mon ami, our counselor is looking for you, he says he needs to see you asap," Francis said, now looking at the Spaniard after having cast another glare at Lovino. The latter seemed to get annoyed. "Right now?" Antonio inquired with an innocent smile. And let his shoulders slump when he saw his friend's nod. He let out a snort, filled with frustration. "Alright, I'll go," he said, thinking that his friend would go ahead, but Francis didn't move from his spot. Feeling a bit pressured now, Antonio said goodbye to Lovino. "See you tonight." He lovingly caressed Lovino's head, even though the latter slapped his hand away and just turned his back to him. Antonio and Francis walked in silence until reaching their faculty building and entering the hallway. Finally, they entered a hall, and the Spaniard started to look for his counselor, but didn't see anyone. "Are you sure that he was looking for me?" "Well, in reality I am the one who wants to talk to you," Francis admitted, making his friend have to hold back a second snort before facing him. "Fran, if you want to give me today's lecture, let me tell you that I've already gotten it from Gilbert. Besides, I have classes soon, so..." He intended to flee, but Francis stood in front of the door, crossing his arms. "Really? Which classes? If I remember correctly, you have already failed most of them," he inquired with his typical French accent. "Well, the ones I can still save," Antonio replied, trying to get around his friend and out of the room, but the other placed his hand on the doorknob. "Oh, I see... the ones you're supposed to have studied for at my house every night." Hearing this, the Spaniard understood that there was no way out anymore. He couldn't do anything else than move a step back, feeling Francis' angry eyes on himself. "Antoine, I have no clue why your mother told mine that you were visiting me every day even though we haven't seen you for more than one month at my house. No, we don't even see each other at all outside of university," Francis reproached him. The other tousled his hair, still forcing himself to laugh. "Well, Fran, I've been spending time with Lovino and…” “And in order to go out with Lovino you have to lie? If you aren't doing anything bad, then I don't understand why you need to hide it. Unless, that guy is not that good as you claim, of course,” Francis interrupted him sharply. “That's not it, but…” “But what? With what kind of arguments are you going to defend him now? Don't think I’m stupid, Antonio, and don’t try to make me believe that you two were just kissing each other innocently under a tree. I’m sure you sit in some kind of seedy hole with him, consuming who knows what trash, and don’t give me that surprised look, you know I’m right. Do you think I was born just yesterday?” Francis laughed out without any humor. “Oh no, of course not. Just a look at that guy’s face is enough to tell that he has more drugs inside him than a pharmacy and, what’s worse, he’s dragging you with him. You are throwing away four years of university in just a few months and at the same time, losing your friends.” Now, he looked worried. “Don't speak as if you knew what’s going on,” Antonio said, trying to keep calm and smile on, despite the anger welling up inside him and starting to rise to his head. “Nothing! Nothing is going on, Antonio! You just fell for some guy and behave now as if you're fifteen. No, not even when you actually were fifteen, did you act like this. Realize that you have a lot to lose and nothing to gain, you have your studies, your family, your friends! He’s not giving you anything!” “LIFE!” Antonio suddenly yelled at the top of his lungs. Francis froze, for he had heard him scream like that only a couple of times before. “Life, Francis, this is what Lovino's giving me. You are the one who has never noticed that I was rotting inside, that with each passing day, I feel more and more disgusted by that goddamn empty existence of mine.” The Spaniard placed his hands on his stomach, burying his fingers into it. The Frenchman was flabbergasted. “You’ve never noticed, huh? The one who knows me better than anyone… never noticed it.” Antonio put on his usual smile and approached Francis, making him shudder this time. “How sad, Francis, that my best friend never managed to see what an empty shell I am behind that smile. A boring being that's letting himself be consumed by the routine of this damn city, the horribly empty people, and the calendar with its passing days that are never bringing anything new. It’s always the same old meaningless shit ever since the day I was born!” He was still wearing his beaming smile, one that could even be called contagious. “And now let me out of here, please.” “No,” Francis refused, looking at his friend again. He had to raise his gaze a bit, noticing that the other was a few centimeters taller. “Tell me, Antoine: what are you planning to fill that emptiness of yours with? How do you want to leave that monotony? With drugs like that guy does? Throwing yourself away like that damn brat who already tossed his life into the trash?” “Don't speak of Lovino like that,” the Spaniard commanded. His smile got weaker.  “I am just stating the obvious. That boy is nothing but waste. You are worth more than that.” Francis stared into the other's emerald eyes. “Do not speak of him like that.” “Lovino, Lovino, Lovino, get rid of that cancer already!” And as soon as these words left Francis’ lips, he felt Antonio's fist hit his jaw with full force, stunning him and making him stumble.  Not giving him any chance to recover, Antonio punched him again, making him fall to the ground and about to give him a few kicks. But was stopped by a few guys who happened to walk by. Antonio was furious. He had no clue if it was due to the ecstasy or Francis’ words, or rather a mix of both, but he wanted to destroy someone, feeling the rage boil inside him to his very bones. The other was meanwhile helped to his feet, holding his mouth. And that was the moment Francis looked at him. Not with anger and neither with fear… it was a look Antonio had never seen in these blue eyes of his before… “Who are you?” Francis asked, looking at Antonio as if he was a complete stranger. The hand he was holding his mouth with started to get bloody, with the liquid running down his fingers and dripping on the floor. And suddenly Antonio realized what he had done. He got startled and looked around, noticing the guys who were holding him in check. His hand, still clenched into a fist, was so tense he couldn't open it, his knuckles throbbed with pain, and a terrible fear invaded him when he tried to approach Francis, but was held back. The only thing he could do was to watch Francis leave, groaning and bleeding. The guys finally let go after a while and went out to look for a professor, while the Spaniard slumped down to the ground, still not able to believe what he had just done. His tense hands started to tremble, and he felt a lump build up in his throat that made it difficult for him to breathe. Looking at the red drops on the floor, he felt so much regret he wanted to cry. What had he done? Punched his best friend, the one he almost considered a brother! During all the time they knew each other, had he ever harmed a single hair on the other's head, unless they were playing around… and now… Afraid of himself, he stumbled to his feet and quickly and inevitably saw his reflection in one of the room’s windows. And was shocked again upon noticing that he couldn't recognize himself. His face was thinner, his eyes reddened, his eyelids darkened by all the lack of sleep, and his hair disheveled. He shook his head various times and ran away, more scared of himself than he had ever imagined to be. Ignoring everyone, he escaped to his warm home and room, where he collapsed onto the bed, too afraid to see his reflection in the mirror again. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping that he would be able to fall asleep and manage to calm down at least a bit in order to think more clearly and try to find an explanation how that normal day could have turned into something as horrible as that. He couldn't understand how everything could fall apart in just a matter of mere seconds. So he just lay there with his eyes closed and his hands on his face, trying to calm his respiration, slowly breathing in and out, until his heart settled down, and his chest accepted the slow movements of his already normalized breathing. Without even noticing he sank into a deep sleep. His body was exhausted, so he just succumbed to sleepiness. For the first time in a long period he had no dreams, everything was dark, but also comforting. He heard rain drops drum against the window from a distance; surely, it had started to rain when night fell despite it having been a sunny day. Whatever, it was like a nostalgic lullaby for him and made him sink even deeper into sleep. But suddenly his phone started to vibrate and woke him up. He clumsily took it out of his pocket, hoping that it was Francis calling him, but saw an unknown number instead and just let it ring. Ignoring it when it started doing so for the second time and only picked up at the fourth. There were noises from the falling rain coming from the other side, as well as the ones from cars passing through the puddles from time to time. “Antonio…” he heard Lovino’s voice call his name and opened his mouth. His lips trembled, and a shudder ran through his entire body. And before the Italian could utter another word, the Spaniard swallowed, bit his lower lip until it hurt and started to speak, his voice breaking when he pronounced the very sentence that would mark a turning point, an election that was more than he probably would be able to bear. “I’m sorry, Lovino,” Antonio said with a shaking voice. “We shouldn’t see each other anymore.” And hung up, slumping onto the bed, feeling unusually exhausted and with a tear running down his face. He forced himself to close his eyes again, still hearing the rain outside try to comfort him from his physical and emotional pain that had attacked him the moment his head hit the pillow. Yes, he would get rid of his cancer, as Francis had called it, in order to at least try to repair all the years of friendship he had ruined in a matter of seconds. Try to restore a few fragments of that life he had been escaping from… the life that had troubled him so much. Maybe it was useless to fight against it, after all. He would stay in that boring city, live that boring routine, grow up among that tedious monotony and just die a little more inside. Growing old with that smile on his lips that he would hand down to the next generations, saying with forced joy that he had lived a good life. Just like he had witnessed so many times. He would accept his destiny without any complaint in order to protect the ones he loved, the ones who belonged to the world he probably never should have stepped out of. Yes, he would do it for them… he would accept his sentence, the one that was written down and couldn’t be changed. He would put on the shackles and chains of daily life with a smile on his face. Goodbye, Lovino, goodbye, his colors, goodbye, his blue skies, his kaleidoscopic rainbows, his brown eyes, his chocolate-colored hair… goodbye, his dose of a real life, his inhalations of that hazelnut smell, his injections of passion, his pills of melancholic conversations, his joints of happy memories, his hallucinations of kisses and laughter. It was time to get sober from that love, and the first minutes of his treatment were so painful that not even the whisper of the rain outside could calm down the piercing screams of his mind and heart. But what was a mere whisper for Antonio, was thunder and strong wind for Lovino which he didn't only hear, but also feel. The rain pierced his skin like a bunch of thin icy needles. The Italian's wet hair was sticking to his face, and the water ran down, drenching his clothes as well that were also glued to his already ice-cold body. Holding the receiver of the pay phone near his ear, he was listening to the beep beep indicating that the other side had hung up. But he didn't remove the phone from his ear nor try to seek shelter from the heavy rain. “Antonio… I was thrown out of home and have nowhere to go,” he said as if he was still talking to the Spaniard. His voice was hoarse, barely a pathetic whisper. “Antonio… you said you wouldn't let go of me…” He finally dropped the phone that was left hanging from the cable and swaying pitifully, while the short and repetitive sounds of the phone line were drowned by the noises of the downpour. Lovino simply started walking, dragging his soaked feet. “You said you wouldn't let go,” he repeated, releasing little clouds of breath from his mouth.