A/N: Ah, Hungmano. It's an interesting pairing, but there's isn't a lot of fanfiction for it...
I'm not entirely sure if anyone is going to catch any implications or references to something, but just in case you do, I apologize in advance. I tried to make it as ambiguous as possible to avoid anything obvious, but if I misconstrued any information, please tell me the errors and I'll see what I can do.
Title: Post-It Notes
Rating: T
Warning: Human AU, swearing, lack of a fact check, possible Internet Backdraft, and OOCness. Oh boy, there is major OOCness.
Genre/s: Drama, Romance
Pairing/s: HungMano (is that their ship name?); the slightest mention of GerBelg
Summary (not an excerpt): Whenever he asks her if she remembers how they met, it doesn't surprise him that she always says no. [vague mentions of memory loss and/or conditions relating to it]
Inspiration/s: The manga 'A Pocketful of Holes Forgets Everything' and the manhwa 'I'm Currently Living with a Bear'.
Elizavetta doesn't remember the day they met because she doesn't know why she should. Is there some sort of trick that would tell you if that person will be important to you later on? If so, there was no way she would have figured that out by herself.
Not once could she ever remember anything about it. She's half sure they exchanged their names, and she gave him a smile, but even then she's not that certain. And she can guess that compared to her cheerful demeanor, he had a sour frown. He always seems to have one on.
Lovino tells her they met in the fall, although she laughs it off and shrugs. Scoffing a little, he'd roll his eyes and flick her forehead, and tell her to pay attention to him.
Autumn.
The leaves crunched underneath her feet, and the icy winds rushed through her body when she first met him, or so he vibrantly describes – at least, he tries to. Elizavetta would listen and nod along, but she secretly feels guilty because she doesn't understand what he's saying.
('Well, you're going to forget all about me sooner or later, anyway' is what he would always tell her. The way he says it in such a regretting and sullen voice always makes Elizavetta peck his lips and promise she never will. That makes him soften up a bit, but that tense frown of his would always still be there.)
But whenever he helps her wrap her scarf around her neck, or whenever he helps her don her thin, woolly jacket, he reminds her again and again about their meeting.
'It was raining then. Do you remember that at least?'
To this, she shakes her head and tells him no, no she doesn't, and he only kisses her before they go outside, his hand in hers.
He doesn't think she notices, but Elizavetta sees the pain he's hiding behind those warm, brown eyes of his.
Lovino tells her that he doesn't bother thinking about trivial things in his life. His philosophy is, 'If you can't remember it, it's not important.' Because he remembers his name, his house address, his credit card pins, those are important. But whenever he forgets to water the plants, or he misses his usual train because he forgot to set his alarm clock, those are trivial. That's what Elizavetta assumes, even though he freaks out or goes into one of his snappy moods. When she tells him that, he pouts and pinches her cheeks.
'That isn't my fault. They just aren't that important to me.'
Elizavetta forgets things easily. As he would say, she has 'terrible short-term memory'. But sometimes, she would forget the date, or she would miss an appointment. Sometimes, Elizavetta forgets where she put her pen, or where their calendar is. She forgets if she's already washed the dishes, or if she already cooked dinner.
To her, it's incredibly embarrassing, because when he comes home late from work, she knows he's extremely tired, and if she asks him any more questions, he'll get angry at her.
But all he does is sigh and tell her to come closer, because he can't hear her if she talks so softly. Lovino says he doesn't mind if she asks him over and over again; he'll answer every single question.
Once, only once, she asked him if anything she had ever forgotten was important. Almost immediately, the answer was yes.
'You're an exception. Everything is important to you, so try not to forget, okay?'
She had teased him a bit by saying she'd try, but no promises. When a hurt expression appeared on his face though, Elizavetta quickly dismissed it and told him she was only joking.
That made him snort and say 'you better be', before he kissed her on her forehead, her cheeks, and her lips.
By the time he was done (implied because of the way he shuffled on his feet), Elizavetta offered to get him a glass of water. He suggested that he should come with her too, so she could help him take out the trash as well. At that, she giggled and told him how much she loved him, and he smiled and smiled and smiled, saying he loved her too.
He leaves post-it notes all around the house, but whenever she tries to throw them away, he shakes his head and tells her not to take them down.
'I need those up, Elizavetta,' Lovino would say in a gruff manner. 'Don't you dare do anything to them.'
Things like 'brush your teeth after every meal', or 'always put your jacket inside the closet' are scattered everywhere. Elizavetta smiles and asks him if he forgets as easily as her. It's cute, she says, and he flushes, but he doesn't say anything to deny it. Whenever he does, she sighs and grins.
The post-its are helpful. Sometimes, she forgets to put her sneakers on the shoe rack, but then she sees the little, yellow paper and goes to do what is told.
Other times, it's him that forgets to turn off the lights in the hallways, or to put the dishes in the cupboard after they get washed. The simple reminders are useful, Elizavetta thinks, and they make her smile whenever she sees one. One day, she decides to make some of her own.
Needless to say, Lovino's pleased when he finds out, because even though his eyes widen in surprise, there's a tiny grin on his face. She comments on that and he turns red, mock irritation on his face.
Their post-it notes are easy to differentiate – she draws pictures on hers. Her drawings are a bit squiggly and lopsided, but she likes them anyway.
Lovino asks her about them one day, when he watches her scribble a flower on a note that says 'check all the doors to make sure they're locked before going to bed'. A small frown adorns his lips. 'Why do you even bother doing that? It's useless.'
She says it's to make him smile, and when he echoes her words, his eyebrows up and his mouth slightly ajar, she explains even further. 'When I see your post-its, I get happier, so I thought if I drew those, I would make you happy as well.'
When he hears that, he's taken aback. 'T-that's cheesy,' he splutters. 'Don't go all mushy on me, Elizavetta.'
Still, for the next hour or so, he goes around the house and looks for all of his post-it notes. When he finds them, he rips them off the wall and draws a little picture of anything that reminds him of his dear Elizavetta.
His brother visits them one day, and Elizavetta takes an immediate liking to him. Although they've never met before, she thinks he's friendly and kind. Feliciano is even patient with her when she brings them some drinks, but forgets to give them cups.
With him is a childhood friend. He doesn't talk as much, but he's nice to her as well. A polite greeting resounds from him as he introduces himself. He tells her his name is Ludwig.
'Ludwig,' Elizavetta says, 'your name suits you.'
He smiles curtly and thanks her. 'How kind of you.'
Ludwig strikes up a conversation with her and talks about his brother. Along the course of the conversation, Elizavetta turns confused and begins to laugh nervously, not really wanting to know about this 'Gilbert' person anymore. 'He's weird. It sounds like he acts like a...a...'
'King?'
'...I guess. He's a weirdo.'
Ludwig assures her they'd get along just fine (although he coughs a bit while saying that), and if she wanted to, he could bring his brother with him next time he visited.
Elizavetta says that sure, he could come, but if he does one wrong move, she would be sure to kick him out of the house.
A short chuckle rumbles out from Ludwig's throat. 'Don't worry about that. He always expects that you will.'
Elizavetta doesn't bother asking what Ludwig means by that.
'Let's go visit the fishes, Lovino.'
Lovino looks up to see Elizavetta smirking triumphantly, as if her complete whim had any coherent explanation. He snorts and goes back to do his paperwork. 'Now? You can't expect us to go to an aquarium now.'
She frowns, crossing her arms in mock exasperation. 'I wasn't. We can do it in the summer. We can do it in the summer, when the weather gets warmer.'
A short silence stretches out, with Lovino eyeing her in utter confusion, and Elizavetta glaring back with sharp precision. Soon, he scoffs and shakes his head. Pencil marks scratch on a paper again. 'I don't know. Maybe. We'll see.'
'If you don't want to, just say so,' Elizavetta tells him. Disappointment gnaws on her chest, but she forces it down. 'We don't have to go if you don't want to.'
'I didn't say I didn't want to go.'
'And?'
He sighs, one eye wincing, half in concentration and half in deep thought. 'It's not the best decision. It'd be freaking crowded, sweaty, and noisy.'
Elizavetta laughs behind him, slinging her arms around his neck. Lovino grunts and tries to shake her off, but it's to no avail. Soon, he gives up and lets her rest her head on his shoulder, lets her wrap her arms across his chest. She lifts his hands in hers, noticing a ring on his finger, and she laughs. 'Is that it?'
He bristles, and looks around to see her face. But she only continues to play with his fingers, pretending not to notice.
Lovino stares at her for a moment before groaning, slipping his hands out of her grip. 'Elizavetta, we just can't.'
'Mm.'
He sighs, caressing her cheek with his thumb. 'So why are you asking?'
Nothing comes out of her mouth, and Lovino's eyes soften when he sees her distraught face. 'Look,' he starts, 'we'll go someday. We'll go to the aquarium. We'll go to a museum. Hell, we can even travel the world. We'll do whatever you want, but not now. You'll have to wait. Promise me you'll wait.'
They look at each other for a while. Just like that, unblinking, not moving, they stare. Finally, Elizavetta speaks. She smiles and kisses his cheek. 'Okay, we'll wait. Thank you, anyway. I love you, Lovino.'
He kisses her lips. 'Love you too.'
There's an unspoken doubt that plagues Elizavetta's mind, but she shakes it off as quickly as it appeared. He promised, after all. She knows he keeps his promises.
Lovino surprisingly forgets his wallet at home, and Elizavetta is left to fret if he has enough money to buy himself some lunch. All of his IDs and cards are in there as well; it makes her worried.
Elizavetta decides that she should deliver it herself, but there's a post-it note on the door that says 'don't leave the house without me, elizavetta'. On it, a bunny is scrawled messily, and Elizavetta blinks and blinks and blinks. She blinks.
Again.
And again.
'if there's an emergency, call this number: xxx-xxx-xxxx'
(what?)
Blink. Blink.
Lovino, Lovino, Lovino. Elizavetta's heart starts to race as her mind draws a blank. She cringes and supports herself on a wall, slowly edging back to the nearest chair she could find. Lovino, she repeats over and over. Should she go out? She should go out. Should she? She thinks she should. Maybe she should go outside right now...
(he's important to you, you can't forget him–
Elizavetta thinks the voices in her head are deafening
–shut up)
Shaking all the while, her body quickly slumps down to the ground, and she shudders and clutches the wallet, and she bites her lip and she panics, and she should go out, but there's this nagging feeling-
A click sounds out from behind her, but Elizavetta couldn't care less. Lovino, Lovino, Lovi-
And suddenly, a voice rings out, 'Hello, Elizavetta? I forgot my wallet. Can you bring it to me?' She sobs across the hallway, scuffling her feet in fright, and someone quickly rushes to where she is, concern evident on his face. His skin is deathly pale and his eyes are wide in shock, and his hands are shaking when he touches her arm. 'What's wrong? Are you okay? What happened-?'
'I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!' Elizavetta hisses, and she swats his arm away. His jaw sets and she shrieks, trying to get as far away from him as possible. 'I don't know what's happening, I don't know what's going on, I don't... I don't... I don't know what's happening, I...'
He has a terrified expression as she starts to cry, but he remains rooted on the spot and shakes his head. 'I'm...I'm not here to harm you. I promise. I heard you screaming, and the door was unlocked. I was...afraid something happened. I'm here to help, please.'
She doesn't think she should believe him, if her narrowed eyes are any indication. But his genuinely scared demeanor makes her mellow, and she allows him to come closer to her. He helps her stand up. '...What happened? Did someone hurt you?' he asks.
Elizavetta checks her wrists and arms, the wallet now dropped on the ground. He glances at her knees, before frowning and kneeling down. 'One of your knees has a tiny cut. Did someone do this to you?'
'No, I don't think so.' She can't remember anyone harming her at all. Instead, there's a faint ache in her chest that tells her she's sad when she sees how pained he is. It hurts more than the cuts on her knees, because she can't remember anything, and all she can do is blame herself.
She's angry. Not because she's frightened, but because she can't do anything at all. If it isn't for him, she'd be useless. She can't stand or speak properly, and every bone in her body is stiff and out of place, like a fish drowning in its own waters.
So again and again, she tells him, 'thank you, thank you, thank you for coming', and all he does is say he's glad that she's alright.
(she's suffocating in her own thoughts when he makes another call, and this time, she tries to cling onto every word that's spoken;
she catches his name – Lovino Vargas – and all she can do left is cry)
Lovino barely leaves her side now, and when he has to, a friendly, young woman latches onto her instead. Elizavetta doesn't really like the attention, but she lets them fuzz over her because it seems to make them feel better.
'Elizavetta,' the woman, Emma, says, 'let's eat outside today.'
Why? The word is on the tip of her tongue, but she doesn't say it out loud. Emma answers it for her anyway. 'We're meeting up with my husband today. Is that okay?'
A frown appears on Elizavetta's face. 'You have a husband? I didn't know that.' That only makes the woman shake her head and look sheepish, gently ushering Elizavetta to the door. She helps the Hungarian put on her coat and scarf, much like how a mother does to a child. It's a gentle feeling that calms Elizavetta down.
'It must've slipped my mind. Sorry.' That makes Elizavetta laugh, telling Emma it's alright. After all, she forgets easily as well, so it's nothing to be worried about.
Together, they walk across the wet, humid pavement. It's early spring; a bit cold, but bearable. Even if the weather is getting warmer, a few, light snow flurries happen once or twice, and Elizavetta's toes tingle as the cold penetrates her socks.
It doesn't take long until they arrive at their destination. Elizavetta eyes the sign curiously, and turns to Emma for an explanation. 'My husband's a doctor,' the blonde-haired woman explains. 'He works in this clinic, and I have to talk to him for a bit.'
Shrugging, Elizavetta follows her anyway, and the two are greeted by the man at the receptionist's desk. Emma raises a finger to her lips and whispers, 'wait here', before she strides up to him and begins to talk in low, hushed voices.
Elizavetta doesn't bother to listen. Instead, she pays attention to an eye-catching leaflet, its corners peeling off from the wall. Again and again, she presses her fingers against it, in hopes that it would finally stick back down. It doesn't, however, no matter how hard she tries, and she frowns in concentration.
(and for a moment, it's like she doesn't remember why or where she is, until Emma turns around and tells her they're meeting her husband;
–'he's a doctor'
–'oh is he? that's nice')
Together, the two of them walk down the pristine halls, and Emma talks and talks about random things that happened in the past week. Elizavetta laughs and jokes around with her as well, and she particularly giggles when she hears of the time when Emma spilled coffee all across her newly-bought carpet. The look on her friend's face as she recounts it makes Elizavetta grin.
'Honey?' Emma and Elizavetta stop in front of one of the offices, and a man swivels in his chair to face them. 'It's me.'
Recognition lights up in his eyes, and Elizavetta can't help but think they look familiar. They're a bright blue, she thinks, and they look familiar. 'Welcome. You're a few minutes late.'
Emma rolls her eyes, but it's all in good humour. Elizavetta laughs alongside her friend, but when she feels the doctor's gaze slip towards her direction, she stops in embarrassment. 'A few minutes? Geez, you can wait for a while,' Emma says. 'Feliciano comes late to all your meetings, so I'm sure you're an expert in patience, dear.'
He sighs and generally ignores her comment. Instead, he faces Elizavetta. 'And I see you're with someone today. Care to tell me your name, Miss?'
'Elizavetta, Sir. Nice to meet you.'
'The pleasure is all mine. I'm Ludwig. Ludwig Beillschmidt.'
Any fear of animosity directed to her immediately disappears. A calming feeling envelopes her instead, and she nods her head politely. She likes his name. 'That's a nice name. I think...it's a good name. Ludwig suits you.'
He smiles wryly, and Elizavetta thinks she hit a nerve, that she was being impertinent during their first meeting, but he chuckles and eyes her with an amused expression. She thinks she knows that look, that face, that name. But she doesn't. She doesn't. 'Ah, so I've been told. A friend of mine likes reminding me every once in a while.'
Glancing at the clock, he adds, 'But let's get on with more pressing issues, shall we? I'm afraid I don't have all day. What did the two of you want to talk to me about?'
'A prescription,' Emma chirps. 'I'd like some medicine, please.'
Elizavetta's slightly curious about Emma's request. For whom? She doesn't remember Emma being sick or anything. Elizavetta's confusion isn't answered because nobody explains why Emma needs the medicine, and she doesn't bother asking since they're almost done anyway.
Ludwig signs a slip of paper and gives it to his wife. 'Here, this should last two months.'
'Thanks, Luddy.' Emma kisses him on the cheek. 'Elizavetta and I are going now, okay? See you later, and thanks again.'
As they stand up, Elizavetta nods at Ludwig in acknowledgement. Emma latches onto her arm. 'I hope we meet again,' Elizavetta says.
He smiles. It isn't until they almost back out of his office does his voice speak up, though. 'I'm sure we will, Ms. Elizavetta. Have a nice day.'
Stopping in her tracks, she looks back to see him nod curtly at her and turn around in his chair. Emma has to coax her to move because Elizavetta is rooted to the spot, simply staring at the blond man's back. She blinks once, twice, thrice before she begins to walk away again, with Emma's arm wrapped around hers.
Her eyelids feel heavy, and a dead weight is on Elizavetta's body. When she opens her eyes, the first thing she realizes is that she's on a bed. She turns to see the digital numbers on the alarm clock. It's two fifty and she wonders if it's morning.
Shifting, she notices that someone's arm is slung around hers. Elizavetta freezes, but she hears the gentle snoring and becomes less apprehensive. It's Lovino, she realizes, and she grins.
Nevertheless, she shrugs his arm away and sits up, rubbing her eyes and patting down her disheveled hair. It's dark and she feels dead tired; is it still Thursday evening? Her brain feels heavy and all she wants to do is close her eyes, but she doesn't. Somehow, she doesn't.
Instead, Elizavetta slowly gets up, legs wobbling when she sets them down on the floor. It takes her a few seconds to steady herself and adjust in the darkness, but she manages and walks towards the door. The hinges squeak as she opens it, making Elizavetta wince and look back at her bed. Lovino doesn't move, doesn't even stir, and she lets go of the breath she's holding. She steps outside.
Light floods the hallway, and Elizavetta squints for a few moments. When her eyes stop the burning sensation, she decides to go to downstairs. But where to? The kitchen, perhaps? She could drink a glass of water. Or grab a light snack. Surely there was something buried in the fridge.
The thought of eating some strawberry cake lights up her face, and Elizavetta almost can't wait to be in the kitchen. But as soon as she takes another step, her knees buckle and she stops, her legs shaking and her feet not daring to walk. Putting her hand against the wall, she slides down to the ground. She's shivering, goose bumps growing on her skin. Maybe this was a bad idea. Elizavetta should've stayed in bed.
Not long afterwards, a muffled sound comes from behind the door. It swings open. 'Elizavetta?' The surly voice grunts and she flinches. She doesn't want him to see her like this. 'What are you doing here?'
'I don't know.' She looks up, daring him to come closer, but all he does is lean against the doorframe. One of his eyebrows is higher than the other, his lips pulling downward – he's telling her to come back to bed. He's not angry, she knows, because he could never be. He's never angry, never at her, so why would he be now?
Lovino's wearing tomato boxers and Elizavetta finds that funny, like it's an inside joke she doesn't get, but at least it makes her a bit more courageous and she frowns right back at him. There's a challenging look on her face, and he doesn't seem to like it because his frown digs even deeper. 'What are you doing here?' she asks.
He rolls his eyes. 'I was looking for you,' he deadpans. 'Now will you please come back to bed?'
'Since you asked so nicely.' She struggles to get up but it doesn't work, so she just drops back down and laughs. Elizavetta tries again to no avail, and she's left to smile awkwardly at Lovino.
He only sighs, promptly taking her in his arms. His hands are warm even though his words aren't as comforting. 'I don't remember having beds in the hallways. And I sure as hell don't remember the definition of bed being floor.'
Elizavetta snorts. 'I don't either.'
Lovino grunts in response as he takes her inside, plopping her on the bed in an instant. Elizavetta watches him pull the blankets over their bodies, and he only realizes she's staring when he finishes fixing the covers and pillows. 'What? Do I have something on my face?'
She snickers. 'A frown.'
'Smartass.'
'Your smartass.'
He shifts over so he isn't facing Elizavetta. She can almost see him roll his eyes again. 'Yeah, sadly,' he admits. 'But if someone else is willing to put up with your attitude, I'd let them take you.'
'Hey! It's not like anyone else wants you either!'
'Elizavetta, go to sleep.'
She groans and lies on her back, eyes wide awake and anything but sleepy. Even though she knows she shouldn't be talking, even though she knows she shouldn't keep him awake, Elizavetta strikes up a conversation. 'Lovino. Do you ever just...stare at the ceiling?'
There's no reply but Elizavetta thinks he's listening. 'The ceiling looks pretty. Reminds me of the sky, night lights, and just...looking. It's pretty.'
That makes him attentive, and he faces Elizavetta the second after. A contemplative look is on his face, like he remembered something important, and Lovino stares at her for a moment. 'You mean stargazing. Want to do that?'
She blinks. 'Stargazing?' Elizavetta repeats. 'Now?'
He blushes, seemingly embarrassed at his sudden request. It sounded better in his head. 'N-not now, I have to work later...' Lovino trails off, an uncharacteristic silence overtaking the two of them. Elizavetta stays quiet and he frowns, continuing. 'If you want to though, we can.'
'We can? Stargazing? Now?'
'Not now. But yeah. Stargazing.' His entire face is flushed now. 'God, it sounds stupider the more you say it out loud, but-' His voice lowers and his face softens, and he's looking at Elizavetta as if she's the only thing he can see. '-we don't go out much anymore, and I just... I don't think I'm being fair to you. So what do you say?'
They stare at each other for a moment before Elizavetta laughs. Lovino's face is frozen stiff, stressed and anxious as he waits for her answer, and she can't help but laugh. 'Sure. Stargazing. It'd be fun. We can do it some other time.'
His eyes light up and Elizavetta thinks they're brighter than the stars. They burn like floating lights in the sky, lighthouses shining through the darkness and beckoning her to come closer. She does, kissing him between the eyebrows, smiling as his lips twitch slightly.
Lovino sits up all of a sudden, glancing at the bedside table before pulling open the drawer. Elizavetta doesn't even have time to ask what he's doing because he's faces her again before she knows it, and in his hands are a post-it note and a pen. 'There, let's write it down so we won't forget.' He scratches the words on the paper, showing Elizavetta when he's finished.
She inspects it for a moment, eyes narrowed in concentration. 'Can I add something?'
'Go ahead.'
It takes her a few minutes to finish and hand it back to Lovino. He chuckles when he looks at it, sticking it on the table for later reference before he pulls the covers up to their necks and tells Elizavetta to finally go back to sleep, or else he'll make her. To that, she asks him for a goodnight kiss – he gives her two for good measure – and they fall asleep in each other's arms, legs tangled, breaths mingling, and fingers interlocked.
(The next day when they wake up, Elizavetta notices something on the table and reads it–
–and all it says is 'stargazing on the weekend' with a picture of two people holding hands under a shooting star.)
