a/n Ciao, everyone, here's a rather sad oneshot I wrote on a whim a week ago and finally got around to putting up. It's rather sad, especially at first but don't worry it gets better. Thanks for reading!
Not that it was any condolence, but it really was a nice cemetery. It was quiet and secluded due to the fact that it lay next to one of the less-frequently used back roads. Lovely maple and birch trees adorned the paths, giving it a sense of peace and comfort.
It really was a nice cemetery, but Lovino Vargas didn't care. All he cared about was the gravestone in front of him. It was too quiet, too still and tranquil. Nothing like the person who now lay beneath it. It just seemed so . . . wrong. Unnatural, even. The silence that should have been soothing instead felt oppressing, pressing down on his shoulders and making him want to scream. Already the carnations he had brought were slipping through his fingers, floating insignificantly to the grass in front of the marker as tears began to well in his eyes.
A year. A year of mourning was too long. A summer, a winter, a spring, a fall without Antonio, feeling his death as sharply as he had the day of the accident. The world seemed cold and bitter without his fiancé.
Fiancé. The world made Lovino crumple to the ground, sobbing anew as he rested his head against the gravestone. They were supposed to be fiancés. He was going to get married. He had been going to get married. Antonio proposed the week before . . . it happened.
Lovino straightened slightly, wiping his tears away on the cuffs of his shirt, attempting to scrub away the memories of almost-weddings as well and failing miserably. The ring still sparkled cruelly on his finger, simple yet elegant. Antonio had known his Lovi would never wear something gaudy and diamond studded.
Delicately, Lovino arranged the fresh flowers next to the tiny glass tomato nestled in the grass beside the grave. The weight of the letter lay heavy in his back pocket and he did his best to ignore it for now. He'd get to it in time.
As was his habit, Lovino stretched out with his back against the stone and closed his eyes, trying to imagine Antonio was right there beside him, ready with a hug and a tomato. He almost thought he could smell the man if he concentrated hard enough. The rich loamy tomato scent was so permeated in his memory that he could conjure it almost instantly.
"I love you." The words sprang unbidden from between Lovino's pale lips, dropping to the ground like stones and sinking through the dirt to be entombed like the rest of the bodies that rested here. Even the phrase sounded rusty with disuse.
"I love you." Saying it again helped somewhat. Now he only needed Antonio here again to repeat it back.
Grimacing, Lovino pulled the folded sheets of paper from his back pocket and smoothed them out gently. His hazel gaze scrutinized his spidery, erratic handwriting. He lifted it up to his face and began to read.
"Dear Antonio." Not a greeting, a plea, a cry, a want, a need. A desperate call for something long gone to return when there was no hope of returning. Unsatisfied, Lovino tried again.
"Dear Antonio." That was better. "I want to . . . to talk to you. I know I always talk to you when I come here but never about important things. Just stupid crap, like what movies I've been watching . . . how the tomatoes are coming along. That sort of thing. But today, I need to talk to you about important, things, dammit. And I know you hate . . . hated . . . talking about that stuff but it needs to be said." Good. This was a strong beginning. Hopefully he wouldn't be a sobbing wreck by the time this was over. Lovino wasn't counting on it.
"First of all: I love you. I've loved you for a very long time, whether either of us knew it or not. I have a feeling it probably started when you invited me to play jump rope with you in second grade when you noticed I was all alone. I'm sorry I kicked you in the shins and told you jump rope was a girly-ass game. Actually, I'm sorry for a lot of things. But I guess I'll cover that later.
"Back to the I love you. As I said, I love you, I've always loved you and I . . . I don't think I could ever stop loving you. So while you were . . . dying and you told me I had to move on after you were gone . . . I thought that was the stupidest thing you've ever said. And that's saying something. I can't move on, you see. Because I know I'll never love another person as long as I live. Don't ask me how I know (actually do, then I could hear your voice again). I just do. So you can just stop bitching about it from Heaven or wherever you ended up. I'm not changing my mind and you better not be hitting on any angels up there because if you are I'll kick your ass when I join you. You know I will.
"I really wished I had said I love you more when you were around to hear it. Because know when I say it in our empty apartment they sound like nothing. Just stupid noises. Sometimes I whisper it into your pillow at night (yeah, I still haven't tossed that dingy old thing) and that's the closest it ever gets to being a shadow of what it once was. If you were still here I'd . . . I'd . . ." Oh gods, his throat was closing up. He couldn't do this. He just couldn't finish this goddamn letter. But . . . Antonio needed to know. It was the least he could do for him. He stumbled on.
"I'd tell you how beautiful your eyes are . . . were, how nice your hair looks even when you don't brush it. Hell, I'd even tell you how warm your hugs make . . . made me feel. When I was with you I felt so . . . warm and safe and loved. No one else can make me feel that way. Not even Feli. Just you. Consider yourself lucky, you bastard.
"And maybe . . . just maybe I wouldn't call you a bastard quite as much anymore. Maybe I'd call you Antonio or some sort of stupid pet name. Like sweetheart. Only maybe though. I'm not a girl.
"I'm sorry you died saving me. I'm sorry the car hit you and not me. I'm sorry I was mad at you that whole day because if I had known it was the last day I'd ever see you I would've made it unforgettable. We could've done all the things you'd always wanted to do with me but I was too stubborn or embarassed. We could go to the beach, get ice cream, maybe go to a petting zoo or something because I know you like shit like that. I don't even remember what I was mad at you about . . . So I'm sorry okay?" Tears were dripping onto the paper now. "I'm so sorry, Antonio. I don't even think . . . I don't even think I said I loved you that day!
"And the only reason I went out into the street was because of some stupid comment you made . . . maybe it was about Feli or something. I just know it wasn't worth losing you. Nothing was worth losing you. But you're gone now. I just . . . I've had so much time to accept that you're gone but it's so hard. Every time I turn a corner I expect your stupid face to be there. Every time I'm making dinner I expect you to come up behind me and wrap your arms around me. When I come home from working at the café, I always yell 'I'm home, Antonio!' expecting someone to answer. But no one ever does and no one ever will.
"I guess I have to face that fact now because a year is too long to spend with sadness as my constant companion. I'm not getting over you. I'm not even moving on. I just need to live my life again because I know that's what you would want. You always got upset seeing me cry. Well this past year I've cried more than I ever have in my entire life. I don't want things to be like this forever and, while I'd rather not live in a world without you, I'm resigned to it and I know I can face tomorrow.
"I know I won't be able to love anyone else besides you but I'm thinking of maybe getting a cat or a dog. Maybe even . . . adopting a kid like that Nordic couple did. Don't worry, I'd make sure they'd know who their . . . daddy was. I'd tell them stories about you and we could tend the tomato fields together and take care of your turtles. Yeah I still take care of them . . .
"I love you so much, Antonio," Lovino didn't even bother wiping away the moisture staining his cheeks. "I hope . . . no, I know you know . . . knew . . . know . . . that. I'll still be visiting your grave twice a week . . . but maybe I can smile a bit. Maybe I can laugh a bit, too. I could tell you stupid jokes and you could just . . . listen. If I ever adopt a child . . . he could come too and have picnics together. And I'd even invite those bastards you call friends, Francis and Gilbert. They miss you a lot, too. We all miss you, Arthur and Alfred and Feli and Felix and Berwald and Tino and Peter and . . . everyone. But no one misses you as much as me.
"I've rambled on enough so I guess this is goodbye for now. I love you so much, Antonio." With shaking hands, Lovino refolded the papers and tucked them in among the carnations.
"Someday we'll see each other again."
Xxx
Lovino opened the door to his apartment and squeaked with surprise. Feliciano was standing on the other side of the door, a similar look of shock on his face that immediately melted into his happiness. He hugged his brother tightly.
"I'm so glad you're back in time! We just finished setting up the surprise!"
"We . . .?" Lovino peered around his brother to see that his apartment was filled with the freaks he called friends. They were all in the process of hurriedly straightening gaudy birthday decorations that now adorned his living room and attached kitchen.
"I . . . Feli what is all this?" Lovino could only stare. "Is this for . . . for Antonio?"
Gilbert and Francis strode up to Lovino and Gilbert patted him affectionately on the head and for the first time he didn't bother pushing him away. "For you, too. We all figured you needed a bit of cheering up and Feli organized a little birthday party for him."
"Is it okay?" Feli asked with large eyes.
Lovino immediately hugged him as hard as he could without breaking the other man's ribcage, surprising him. "Yes . . . thank you it's wonderful."
And for the first time since Antonio passed away, Lovino smiled. A real smile that made everyone in the room's hearts flutter with relief and happiness.
"Happy birthday, Antonio."