Lovers who Uncover

“I've become crueller since I met you I′ve become rougher, this world is killing me And we cover our lies with handshakes and smiles And we try to remember our alibis We tell lies to our parents who hide in their rooms We bury our secrets in the garden Of course, we could never make this love last I say, of course, we could never make this love last The only love we know is love for ourselves” Bloc Party - Two more years A straight concrete road with a monotone, rural scenery flanking it, that was what Lovino and Antonio were seeing while driving to their next destination. Sitting in the front passenger seat, Lovino had rolled down the window in order to rest his cheek against it and moved his hand up and down as if tracing invisible waves in the air. Narrowing his eyes when he felt the strong wind hit him with full force in the face due to the speed of the car. The rock melody coming from the radio was the only thing that filled the silence. Antonio had his eyes on the road, but from time to time, his gaze trailed off into Lovino's direction, who was currently under the relaxing effect of whatever was the last thing they had put into their bodies. He didn't remember exactly what, just knew that it had been a bunch of differently colored pills. The Italian was entertaining himself by playing with the air, moving his fingers occasionally as well. One could say that Lovino was looking like just a guy enjoying a road trip, but to Antonio it seemed as if the other became more and more absent. They had started their voyage almost three months ago, stopped in a lot of different cities and also a few slightly isolated villages (however not isolated enough to not find anyone to buy drugs from), gotten to know bunches of people, from a Turkish drug dealer and a charismatic Romanian, who provided substances they hadn't even known existed, to a Swiss who possessed a collection of weapons that made you wonder for a second whether he was really just selling drugs or doing business with the military as well. They had seen a lot of landscapes, several sunrises and sunsets, and slept in so many cheap motels that they had already forgotten what lying on a decent mattress felt like. And apart from that, they had learned to rob more efficiently, passing from simple passersby to small shops that had more to steal, and gotten to know new sensations with drugs and new ways of consuming them. Feeling as if they had abandoned their birthplace years ago. But it was as if all these fun adventures were coming with a price to pay... or, at least, it seemed so to Antonio. As mentioned before, he felt as if Lovino was acting more and more absently, becoming more distant and immersing himself in thought, and when he wasn't, then his mood turned extremely sour; being sober was making him even more moody than usual, getting irritated by everything and complaining all the time. Only under the effect of drugs did he turn docile and even reached out for Antonio himself whom he otherwise brusquely pushed away from time to time. Antonio gently stroked the Italian's hair and also his cheek, making Lovino enjoy his warm touch. The Spaniard smiled at the other's calm expression and redirected his attention to the road. On the other hand, Lovino was also noticing some changes in Antonio, which irritated him. Maybe that was the reason he had started to take his anger out on the Spaniard when he was in possession of all his five senses. He could see (and that was probably the most painful part) that the Spaniard's smile had lost its shine, it wasn't the same radiating one he had known, the genuine expression he was showing only to him alone... that smile had turned weak and pathetic, merely a shadow of its former self... Antonio was losing his liveliness and becoming more and more quiet, sometimes even melancholic, and his green eyes, the ones Lovino adored so much, the ones that were his reason to share his secrets with Antonio... were also affected by these changes. Lovino was afraid. He was afraid that these very eyes would go out completely one day, and that he would never see them again. What was going on? Where was everything that had made them fall in love disappearing to? Did love really have an expiration date? No... love stays the same... it's the people who change. And like that, they kept driving, enveloped in that same silence, hearing nothing but the slow guitar music coming from the radio, one tracing waves in the air with his hand outside the window and the other looking up front, hoping that all the things going through their minds were nothing but temporary musings during a road trip. A few hours before nightfall, they stopped at another godforsaken motel which seemed to have only a few other guests apart from them, surely some cheating couples on a brief adventure. Lovino and Antonio left the car and stretched after the long hours spent in a sitting position. Lovino went ahead to get a room, while Antonio took out a bag they were always carrying with them when not being in the car and that contained their money and, of course, their drugs. Lovino left the reception, letting the room key spin around his index finger, and indicated to the Spaniard with a movement of his head to follow him. The other did as told, immediately noticing the Italian's frown, which meant that he was sober and that the pills' effect was over. They locked themselves in their room, and Antonio looked around, realizing that, unlike the facade, the inside of the building looked very much like a place for "certain activities". "Look, Lovi, we even have a bathtub this time," he said cheerfully, still carrying the small bag. Lovino just grumbled and took off his coat, approaching him after that. "Give that to me," he commanded, reaching out for the bag hanging over Antonio's shoulder, but the Spaniard decided to tease him a bit and raised it, knowing that the shorter Lovino wouldn't be able to reach. "Hey, not so fast, Lovi, we also have a huge bed, let's test it out first," he said in a playful tone, taking a few steps back and standing on tiptoes. "To hell with the bed, give that to me," Lovino spat, almost fighting for the bag and approaching Antonio more and more while the latter was walking backwards and laughing. "You won't get anything until you listen to me," the Spaniard said, irritating Lovino more and more, until the Italian ended up shoving him out of desperation, with so much force that he almost made him fall, and grabbed the bag from his shoulder. "Stop fucking with me, okay?" Lovino almost growled and sat down on the bed, taking out a few things. Antonio was a bit taken aback, even though that wasn't the first time Lovino was treating him like that... unfortunately, he was already pretty used to it. He watched the Italian prepare his daily dose (or rather the one for the next few hours), using a razor blade to divide the white powder into several lines on top of a mirror piece and then inhaling them anxiously. Antonio came closer, looking listless and sad this time, and climbed onto the bed as well, trying to hug him from behind by wrapping his arms around the other's shoulders. But Lovino coldly freed himself out of his embrace.  "Don't get clingy now," he reprimanded his partner and continued his cocaine consumption. "Oh, so I have to wait until this stuff starts to take effect, eh?" Antonio asked in a strange monotone voice that made Lovino turn around to him, frowning. "What's with that comment?" he asked, annoyed. "Well, it seems that you love me only when you're on drugs." Antonio's tone was still the same, and there was emptiness in his eyes, as he watched Lovino look away, place the mirror and the blade on the bed and lock himself in the bathroom. "No clue what you're talking about," was the Italian's answer before he slammed the door shut behind himself. Antonio slumped onto the bed on his stomach, contemplating the closed door and waiting for Lovino to come out and apologize, but there was nothing but the sound of water running into the tub. The Spaniard closed his eyes and hugged the pillow. "You've never said it..." he said into the emptiness of the room. "You've never said that you love me." He clumsily palpated the bed, looking for the mirror that still had a bit of the poisonous white powder on it. And the hours started to pass like just another day of their new lives. Under the effect of the drug, Antonio was lazily changing the channels on the TV without even watching it, just to have something to do, hearing the interrupted words and seeing the flashing images. The bathroom door was still closed, and only because of looking at the clock on the wall did he realize that Lovino had already been spending more than an hour inside. "Lovi! What takes you so long?" he called. No answer. "Lovino?" Still no sound. The Spaniard got a bit scared, remembering Feliks and the day of the dealer's death, hence he jumped out of bed and started to knock on the door. But it was locked. Lovino could clearly hear Antonio's calls and his attempts to open the door, but he just couldn't bring himself to open it, sitting in the tub immersed into the water and wondering how much time he would be able to hold his breath. He watched the bubbles rise to the surface, seeing the moldy ceiling being distorted thanks to the water... In the end, he opened his mouth, still under the water, closed his eyes and let out a scream, represented by a bunch of bubbles that shot up at once. And while screaming, he had the sensation as if he was getting rid of the demons inside of him, drowning them and hoping they would disappear forever... but they were still there with only a few having become victim to the drugs, another few to Antonio's company and a few more had turned into beautiful colors he had to force out in order to be able to see them again. It was getting harder and harder, and he needed to raise the dose each time a bit more in order to see them and feel safe in that kaleidoscope, in his barrier of shining and gorgeous light. "Lovino!" Antonio yelled when he managed to make the door open. The other finally raised his head out of the water and watched the Spaniard, who was pale from fear, run towards the tub, get on his knees next to it and wrap Lovino into a possessive hug, not caring about getting wet. "God... you're alright! Why didn't you answer?" Antonio asked, still hugging him and running his hands over the other's wet hair. "I didn't hear you," Lovino lied, feeling Antonio tremble. The Spaniard separated himself a bit in order to have a better look at him and make sure that he was really fine. "Don't scare me like that, I thought you were..." "What?" Lovino inquired when Antonio didn't complete his sentence. "Killing myself or having an overdose?" These words made the Spaniard shudder and cling to him once again. "Leaving me," he corrected, kissing his neck, ear, and his wet cheeks. "But I'm here," was everything Lovino replied without hugging him back, just feeling the other's warm clothes. Antonio nodded and gave him a brief kiss on the cold lips. "Get out, the water's cold already," he said, taking the towel that was hanging nearby and the Italian's hand to help him stand up. He even dried him as if the other were a small child. Rubbing his hair, face, and body with the towel, he was looking for any excuse to touch Lovino and make sure that he was still there, in front of him. It was something like a sort of paranoia... since Lovino had started to seem so absent and cold, Antonio had begun to feel abandoned, as if Lovino was leaving him little by little without him being able to do anything to hold him back and keep him by his side. But when he came to himself, he noticed that the Italian was indeed there, and these were the moments he clung to him more than ever and the moments he was the most afraid to open his eyes the next time and not see him anymore. He finished drying him and finally wrapped him up into the towel, giggling when he thought that Lovino looked like a caterpillar. The Italian looked up when he heard that quiet giggle and saw an emerald sparkle in the latter's eyes. Without thinking twice, he clung to the Spaniard's neck and kissed him desperately. A bit puzzled by that, Antonio needed a moment to react, but then kissed him back. The towel fell to the ground, and he used his arms to cover Lovino instead, while the other was barely letting him take a breath between kisses. And very soon, they ended up on the bed and doing the things they did better than anything after having taken drugs. The once pleasant sensations were now feeling like hints of nostalgia. Holding each other's hands while being in that state of ecstasy had ceased being a romantic gesture and turned into grabbing on to one another in order to prevent the other from leaving. Touching every nook and cranny of each other's skin was not the once exciting adventure of exploring another body anymore, but more like going over old wounds, stories of old sadness that was marked into the skin, uncovering dark secrets on their arms, their nasal walls, their poisoned tongues. That wasn't a union of two souls and two hearts anymore... nothing like that... what used to be a ritual of expressing their love, had turned into a remembrance of promises that tied them together, a forced intent to never leave each other... a desperate action to not end up alone. While Lovino was on top of Antonio and wrapping his legs around the other's waist, Antonio was grabbing Lovino by the hips and looking into his partner's lost eyes as the Italian was throwing his head back from time to time. Occasionally, he was also rocking it and sighing, accelerating the rhythm of his movements, and also brushing his bangs back and revealing his eyes that were losing a certain shine, even though he was biting his lower lip with force and his entire body shuddering. However, there was still nothing else but a frightening absence in his gaze. Lovino seemed to be in another world, moving further and further away from Antonio, heading to a universe far away from the Spaniard. Thus, Antonio sat up on a reflex caused by the same fear he had felt hours ago and hugged Lovino without stopping nor getting out of him, trying to keep him by his side just a little longer. He squeezed the Italian's body, ignoring the latter's pained groan, since that unspeakably huge fear was forcing him to do it, to try to hog the other and not allow him to escape his embrace. Even though Lovino still seemed as if he would turn into fog and float away any moment. And even when they finally collapsed from exhaustion, all sweaty and sticky, Antonio didn't let go of Lovino, hugging him despite his protests and objections until succumbing to his fatigue and falling asleep, holding the Italian's skinny body in his arms. His nose was almost pressed against the other's neck, so that he greedily inhaled Lovino's scent from time to time in his sleep, his skin that smelled like hazelnut... that was perhaps the only aspect of Lovino that hadn't changed. Lovino, in the meantime, was trying to fall asleep and feeling the passive rising and falling of Antonio's chest at his back, his warm breath on his neck and his possessive arms around his hips that didn't have any intention to let go. Lovino's gaze wandered off along the wall of the room. He saw the still turned-on lights in the bathroom and perceived the rhythmic ticking of the clock. And when he perked up his ears, he could also hear the couple in the room next to them, who had turned up the volume of the TV in order to muffle a certain type of other sounds. He could hear the commercial almost clearly. It was impossible... definitely impossible to sleep. Lovino rolled around and faced Antonio, who, unlike him, was fast asleep, the only thing missing was drool leaving his mouth, and he would be the perfect typical image of a guy sleeping like a log. Thus, supposing that Antonio would not wake up that easily, the Italian skillfully freed himself out of his embrace and got up from the bed. However, as soon as the Spaniard stopped sensing his warmth and felt the mattress move, he immediately woke up and saw Lovino starting to get dressed. "What are you doing?" he inquired, cracking open one eye with effort. "Nothing," the Italian replied, who finished buckling up his pants and started to look for that little bag, where they kept everything for their vices. Seeing that, Antonio hurriedly got up as well and took it before Lovino could even find it. "It's the middle of the night. Couldn't you wait at least for daybreak?" "Yeah, sure, I would gladly wait until morning if I could. And now give it to me," the Italian spat, approaching the Spaniard, who kept him from reaching the bag once again. "Don't start playing with me, just give me the bag!" Lovino objected and came closer, but the other stepped back. "You don't need this to sleep, I can help you with that instead." That answer irritated Lovino even more. "I don't need you for that. Just give it to me already," he replied coldly, deepening the line between his eyebrows. "I see... so what do you need me for, then? To sleep with you or to help you to steal money, or maybe to make you feel less pathetic when you're taking drugs, because I'm as pathetic as you? Do you need me for all that, except for helping you sleep at least one entire night?" the Spaniard asked. The other rolled his eyes. "Don't start with your whining, Antonio, I'm not in the mood for it right now." He tried to take the bag out of Antonio's hands again, but his partner was stronger than him. "You are never in the mood, you always have to have something in your damn body to be in the mood. Always putting some shit inside yourself to make it seem as if you're alive!" Antonio exclaimed. Now, the other got angry for real. "Oh, look who's talking, Mr. Morality. Do I have to remind you that you're inhaling cocaine as well as if your life depended on it? 'Cause sometimes you seem to find it too convenient to forget it and reproach me for things you're also doing without a care in the world. So stay away with these little speeches of yours, please, we both know that we're the same human garbage, you're just as rotten as me," Lovino hissed, pointing at himself and at Antonio. "No, Lovino, we're not the same, because I don't need drugs to know that I love you." Hurt was lingering in Antonio's tone. Lovino gave a long snort. "What's with that sob story now? You're always summing everything up with the fact whether I love you or not and other nonsense that doesn't have anything to do with what we're talking about. Alright, now if you've finished your lectures and your love confessions, then finally give me that fucking bag," the Italian commanded, getting more and more furious. "Doesn't have anything to do? It very much does because, in the end, I don't have any idea why we're even together. I know that I love you and that you're everything to me, and I don't need a needle stuck in my arm to know it, I knew it since the day I saw you for the first time... you, however... I have no clue what you want from me, what you're looking for in me, and even less what you really love... So what is it, Lovino? Do you love drugs, me... or is it that you don't need anything but yourself? Tell me! Tell me so that we can leave behind that farce once and for all, so that I can stop deceiving myself, thinking that you don't love me anymore... or, I don't know... that you have loved me at all." The last words were said in a pleading tone. Lovino massaged his forehead for a moment, before glaring at Antonio. "I'm getting tired of your shit, and I still don't understand what you're getting at. You're angry for some fucking stupid reason, and you're straining my patience, so if you don't want my fist in your face, then give me that bag and leave me alone." Lovino was keeping himself from starting to yell even louder. An ironic and forced smile appeared on Antonio's face. He looked at the bag and then at Lovino who was stretching out his hand, expecting to receive it. "Well, if you don't get what I'm talking about, then let's test it out. Let's see what your real love is." And with these words, the Spaniard opened the bag and emptied its content that consisted not only of drugs, but of other things of value and also money, on the floor and started to stomp on it without a second thought. He broke and scattered all the little bags with pills, white powders such as heroin, cocaine and meth, and other substances. "What are you doing, you idiot?!" Lovino roared, shoving Antonio with so much force that he did make him fall onto his back this time, and kneeled on the ground, trying to save at least something. "Stop that!" was Antonio's turn to shout now. He threw himself at Lovino, tackled him and pinned him down against the floor. "Why did you choose them?! Why not me?!" He yelled, squeezing Lovino's wrists with so much strength that his fingers left marks on the skin of the other who was trying to escape. "Let go, leave me alone!" Lovino screeched, squirming violently. The only thing his eyes were seeing were the drugs scattered on the ground and flying into all directions thanks to their wrestling. "Lovino... look at me... Why is it always me who has to seek you out? Why do I always come second despite everything I have done?... Even though I turned into this just for you!" Antonio was still holding the Italian, who was groaning and screaming under him. "Let go, let go of me!" were Lovino's only words. He didn't feel the warm drops falling onto his face, the salty drops falling out of Antonio's eyes and landing on the other's cheeks, who was busier with trying to free himself. "Let's end this, Lovino... let's get out of it together..." Antonio begged, loosening his grip, which Lovino took advantage of in order to get free. He shoved the Spaniard violently away and crawled towards what was left of the drugs, desperately trying to put them together. "Lovino, listen to me!" Antonio got closer, wanting to hug him. "Do you really think you can save me?" the other then asked, slurring his words, while having his hands full of different kinds of drugs. "But of course, I can do anything for you." A shine of hope appeared in Antonio's green eyes. "Liar!" Lovino screamed, tossing the drugs at him and slapping him in the face in order to let out his frustration while getting up with some effort. "You're lying, you can't!" He snapped at the top of his voice. "I'm not ly-" "Then why haven't you saved me yet?!" Lovino interrupted him. "Why am I still suffocating?!" While screaming, he brought his hands to his head and started pulling at his hair, with frustration and pain in his eyes. He was doing everything in his might in order to hold back his tears. Then he took his sweatshirt, quickly put it on and left, slamming the door and breathing heavily, almost panting. Antonio, who stayed on the floor, got startled by the tremendous bang the door produced. Then, suddenly there was silence... except for the ticking of the clock, the TV from the room next door, and the voices of the couple immersed in their intimate matters. The Spaniard could still feel his cheek throb and burn thanks to the slap earlier. He directed his gaze at a vague point in the room until firmly closing his eyes. Another few tears ran down his face. "Lovi... being with you is starting to hurt," he muttered, wiping his face and leaving his hand on the spot where he had received the hit, however there was something else that was causing him more pain at the moment. Lovino was hurrying away from the motel, his breathing accelerated and labored, feeling a pressure on his chest that didn't let him exhale properly. He shrugged and put his hands deeply into his sweatshirt pockets, attempting to warm them up a bit. His palm was throbbing. The Italian looked up at the sky, searching for stars and then looking at them, these few shining dots scattered over the darkness of the night. "Fuck you!" he yelled at the poor stars in a fit of rage, his voice breaking. "Fuck you!" His screams were so powerful that he doubled over and stayed like that for a moment. Three drops left his eyes... his tears struggling to break free. "Fuck you all... Why are you so far away while I have to stay down here?" The Italian asked hoarsely, grinding his teeth. "Why can't I escape?" He continued standing there. A few seconds later, he wiped his eyes and nose with his sleeves and resumed his way, trying to swallow all the fury he felt for the stars, for that myth claiming that people turned into them once they died... if that was true, then they all had already become part of the sky and Feliks was surely laughing at him right now from above. If Lovino just could become a star and escape everything, everything that hadn't changed in the slightest even after having abandoned the city and its people... everything that stayed exactly the same and sometimes even seemed worse than before... he couldn't take it anymore... but neither did he want to die yet. If at least someone knew how much he wished to feel alive, how badly he desired to live. That was the only thing he asked for. But why was he still feeling like a walking corpse? Why was he still suffocating? Why was he only able to find life in the shine of a pair of green eyes and the artificial colors that vanished by merely a wave of his hand? That world was so fucking unfair! The ones who wanted to live were killed by their own demons, and the ones who had the option of enjoying life to their heart's content, were destroyed by having too many feelings. Lovino walked further and further into the empty city. It was almost completely deserted, and only the street lights were dimly illuminating the corners and the eateries that had closed barely a few minutes ago. The only things filling the air were the sirens of police cars and the barking of a few street dogs, or at least, until he perceived the far-away music from a bar. Following the melody, he approached said bar, shoved the heavy door open without paying attention to the neon sign, and was welcomed by a rock ballad he didn't know. But that didn't matter anyway. The Italian looked around and realized that he didn't have any money with him, hence before one of the intimidating waitresses who were dressed as punks could notice, he decided to go to the farthest corner of the bar, near the billiard table and the jukebox. There he sat down without a care in the world and casually took the rest of a cigarette from an ashtray, gave three last drags, finishing it, and squeezing it back into the little pile of ash. After that, he just kept sitting there, anxiously moving his leg under the table and looking for someone who could grant him at least a bit of something. About twenty minutes had passed without him being noticed by any of the waitresses, but instead by one of the clients who arrived swaying due to how drunk he was. He sat down next to Lovino without asking for permission, but the Italian himself didn't show any sign of being displeased by it anyway. In reality, it obviously did displease him, but the guy could at least have enough money to get through the night. "Hi, I see you're all alone here, so... do you want a drink or something?" the disheveled man asked clumsily. Lovino did everything in his power to not openly show his disgust and just nodded, briefly remembering the day he had met Antonio for the first time... of the Spaniard inviting him to drink something in a pathetic attempt to get his phone number or at least his name. The Italian raised his hand, and an ill-humored waitress took their order, almost banging their drinks against the table when she brought them faster than expected. Perhaps she had a bad night. Lovino grabbed the glass with whiskey and took a long sip in order to bear through what was starting to turn into a stupid conversation with the indispensable questions like "Where are you from? It's the first time I see you here." and "How old are you? Maybe you're still too young to sit in a bar." These kinds of questions that didn't even work with girls. Lovino, however, still forced himself to answer them with the smallest amount of words he could manage, preferably monosyllabic ones. All he wanted was to get that guy's money... but at least he already had a drink. After an inconsistent and boring chat, the guy emptied his fourth glass of Jack Daniel’s and placed his elbows on the table, approaching Lovino a bit who couldn't avoid frowning slightly when he perceived the penetrant alcoholic smell the other emanated right next to him. "Hey, boy... How about we go to a quieter place?" the man asked with a grin that showed his slightly crooked teeth. Lovino cast him a cold gaze, noticing the other's reddened cheeks and eyes thanks to the drinks and the way he could barely pronounce his words right. That made him suppose that it wouldn't be that difficult to take advantage of that poor devil without having to put in too much effort. Before even getting an answer to his question, the guy had the audacity to start running his hand over Lovino's neck, stroking his warm skin with his long, bony fingers. It gave Lovino the creeps. He straightened his back like a ruler, as he felt the unfamiliar hand on his body, accompanied by a discreet and perverted laugh. Lovino could swear that he had never felt such disgust in his entire life.