He could see it coming.
The Spanish doesn't move a finger when the phone rang through the house; Activities stop the exact same moment. It rings again, two, and then tree times and minds are now troubled. That is expected and important.
The house keeper rushes to reach it, clumsily dodging the lying piles of clothes and passing though the door frame in a gale. Six times and seven and a "Hello". The warm voice asks the unknown person. Time passes and he can hear a breath and quickly erased words on the stranger's phone side.
"Hi" He gets for answer, a broken and low whisper, but a clue of which country the voice belong to. It's the same tone, but with slight changes from the last time, subtle. Only he could tell what it was. Maybe only tiredness.
His hand tightens on the phone, as does his heart from sudden sensation of scars stripped naked to poisonous, heavy air. He thinks he'll hang now, conscious of his stupid mistake, but there's only broken silence. "Lovino" Antonio calls the person on the phone, and the person on the phone reacts to his own name like a scared dog. He can't hear, he can't see, but he knows the exact reaction, the tears already falling and the regrets already filling, maybe hatred paving its way. It's not Antonio's fault; it's the way he calls him. Lovino can't bare the way, the voice who calls him by his true name. It's just full of memories he secretly miss.
"I'm sorry" The man tries and only got what he is waiting for, even expecting it from their routine. The phone hang and he ends up alone with his own self. He don't regret any words, he means them now.
But sadly, the Spanish man ends up the same way he was left every year by the same person who just hangs on him every times he calls to say nothing. It's just an endless spinning wheel where you can't win; it just tells how much guilt you'll get this time. Antonio just cannot answer the phone, it's impolite. Lovino cannot just stop calling, it's impossible.
The hateful kid loves to hate more than breathing, so people say about Lovino Vargas from Italy.
Antonio knows it may be true... but not completely. He knows hate isn't everything he own, just a good percentage. But he doesn't know Lovino anymore. It's been 75 years.
He finally hangs up and slowly sits on his nearby couch knowing that he himself run to it yet again. But it's all right, he is used to. It's just a slap, not a punch. So he won't forget.
He'll call another day... Yeah, He always calls, to hurt himself too. But Antonio won't wait for a call this year; next one maybe.
...
It's always like this; Since Antonio left Lovino in 1936.
Yes, he did leave him, whatever countries will take his defense or not. He did and did it on purpose. It's not like he had the choice to choose between the boy and his own people anyway. His world was falling apart. His homeland was burning and bursting, and same race was destroying themselves for stupid ideologies; anything that he could stop himself.
It lasted 39 years too.
39 years of cultivated sadness and slowly turning it into hatred, as the tastiest wines are ones that are left on longer. It's what he thinks of this.
It sounds so egoism, but he hadn't the time to deal with his henchman anymore. Not mentioning the kid advanced age. He was depending on Antonio by only laziness. Oh, it's one of his numerous excuses, but any non idiotic person would have seen the true reason. But Spain was an idiot, Lovino said so many times.
Not like Lovino Vargas ever said I love you too. They are both idiots then.
But Lovino was absolutely merciless, for he was always remembering him his betrayal, every year in fact.
"Hey, remember when you kicked me out of your place and sent me back to Italy? Where everyone hates me and my own brother treated me like dump? Where the allies beaten me until I broke and laughed to my ravaged body, and where Ludwig was beating me too if I come to say no to him? What about the days I starved because I was so poor and my brother was too busy being famous? You fucking bastard, I hate you deeply and I want you to never forget what you did to me."
That was what the message sent every time he called him. And he does remember well.
At first, Antonio was too worried with his situation to even bother taking news of his old lackey. Then the civil war ended but the terror continued for everyone, him included. It's only at this very moment, when there was nothing more that could be done, that Antonio started to feel bad, but wasn't sure why.
When his home finally came back to what it was, the guilt took advantage. Then he felt even worse. He ended up knowing about everything.
When Lovino called him for the first time, nothing has been said. It wasn't necessary.
He feels guilty enough now to beg for forgiveness at every short phone call. But the courage was lacking to call back.
Sometimes, he thinks about the past, and what could have happened. Yeah, He could have kept Lovino and gave up on his own homeland. After all, countries can always make it; a country can always raise and shine again. He could have let his country deal with its own problems and just flee with Lovino to the boot shaped country, like a coward. But his people were more important to him at this period of his existence, more than an aggressive and bad tongued kid who actually never told him I love you. Antonio told him I love you Billions of time.
"He never loved me anyway, he was just enduring." That's what he tells everyone, because that is what he truly thinks. When you love someone, you tell him. You don't call him bastard or Idiot or fucking moron.
...
And so, Like Antonio said it, Lovino called again. It is exactly one year after their previous short conversation.
The same process takes place; Antonio says Hello, Lovino merely replya Hi, Antonio ask forgiveness, and Lovino quickly hang up.
But Antonio laughs at the reaction. It's the first time since their weird habit began. He is really proud of himself. What a wonderful thing that is a "call-back" key on his newly brought phone.
Antonio gave his though months and months, and finally just made his minds. The best way to win against a bull was to face it. Lovino Vargas isn't a bull, he is worse.
But he is truly in peace with his guilt. No one knows how he did it. But to be forgiven, you have to forgive yourself first, and so he did. Long ago, he did what he thought was the best option, and now he paid the prize too many times, enough Lovino. That's enough.
"You'll stop making me feel bad Lovino." He mutters with a little smile. He touches the button and the call-back option seems to work perfectly. It rings three times, four, and a young man picks the phone with a dry "Hello".
Nothing stops him now, neither bad feelings nor fear.
"Hi Lovino." he softly answers, almost purring. Sudden silence, and then the phone hangs again.
But like he said earlier, nothing stops him.
He taps the key again and it rings. Seven times, and someone picks to make it stops. "What do you want?" Lovino asks. It's Impossible to tell the kids minds.
"I want to talk" He speaks but the other stays silent again.
"I don't want to talk with you"
"But you're the one calling me!" He waits for the phone to hang again, but there's just that heavy silence.
"Are you going to hate me the rest of your life for what I did? Because I got over it already" He is dangerously honest and doesn't care.
No answer.
"Say something, dios!"
Silence.
"Listen... You may be really tired of this, but I'm sorry, just get over it Lovino, please"
Nothing.
"It's not healthy to cumulate hatred like this, it will kill you"
The silence finally ends and he hears a quick Tsk.
"Now you care about my health? You're 75 years late, fucking idiot."
Some things may never changes. At least this part of Lovino hasn't changed. Not even for all gold on Earth.
Antonio wants to tell him the reason why he never called back, but he prefers to stay silent about that and just let it pass.
"Yeah" He is almost touched by his childish tone. He knows it wasn't indented.
Yet another silence, and the older Latin really doesn't like those moments. On the line, he can't tell what is happening there, and why he doesn't hang yet. Maybe Lovino is really tired of hating too... Maybe.
"Can't you just forgive me?" He asks and really wants an answer, but the kid just hangs again.
This time, Antonio hangs too and starts laughing. He laughs like an insane, mad person. He laughs for minutes and hurts himself by doing so.
...
The roles get inversed, and Lovino is now the one tormented by Antonio. He calls every week, with a smile sped on his lips. It's almost cheering him up.
One day, Lovino just give up, and starts crying and whimpering on the phone, begging for forgiveness. He can't stand his phone call anymore, or his voice, or anything else.
"Lovino, come to my place" He sits comfortably and cross his legs, leaning in his sofa. He pours his whine with a free hand.
"No" It's cold and bitter through his broken voice. The older asks "why", and the younger is just too busy sobbing.
"I still love you Lovino, even if you still hate me" He speaks and don't weigh his words at all. He slowly sips his wine. And only more tears.
"Do you hate me Lovino?" He asks and don't mind his answer anymore. The poor boy is too obvious.
"Yes, I hate you, don't ever call me again" They both hang, and Antonio silently finish his wine.
...
Day passed and Antonio never called Lovino back, and so did Lovino.
Gilbert ends up at Antonio's door one evening and the old friend is greeted warmly. Gilbert isn't a country, nor an empire anymore and his brother is most like Feliciano; not really caring for his useless brother. Gilbert has no home anymore. Antonio arms are always open for him, and will always be.
The two old friends speak together about everything and nothing. Gilbert tried asking about Lovino. Antonio just shrugs and smiles. "It's all right" He tells the entire story to the Prussian, and he smile back, somehow happy for him.
The Spanish, for his way, asks about his unstable life and Gilbert starts crying. He cries for hours in his best friend chest and yet no words are exchanged. Antonio has finally enough of the tears and makes the pale man shuts with a kiss. No one pulls away, and everyone is enjoying the soft, short moment of tenderness that both haven't had in age. Gilbert even kisses him back and tongues fight together and no one want to give up. Gilbert wraps his arms on the other's neck and let himself being held. They all forget about how hard life can be for the night, and they both end up upstairs. Antonio kisses him eagerly again and Gilbert can hardly stop crying, but after a moment, he finally stops.
Antonio made love to the Prussian like he always wished to do, like he naturally is, and his friend needed it. He moaned the Spaniard's name few times, but the most shocking were the thanks.
He needs it to know that he is still here, still living, breathing, and alive.
Gilbert has developed monophobia because no one ever cared when he needed someone to cares. "It's not your fault Antonio" The Prussian always says. It's seems to never be Antonio's fault anyway. The only thing remaining to do is to care, now. That's what he is doing.
When they are over, Gilbert is smiling, but a warm smile, the one you give instead of thanks. Antonio smiles back and softly caress his friend's pale cheeks. It's not love, it's just compassion.
...
Loud knocks at the door wakes Antonio first, and he get out of bed and rushes to the door, clumsily dodging Gilbert's laying piles of clothes. He doesn't bother asking for a name and open it.
"Lovino?" It's his young Italian, who doesn't say anything and fixes his own shoes.
"What are yo-" Antonio asks, but he is cut by a tight hug. Lovino is hugging him and the adult doesn't really know how to react but he finally hugs him back and he can feel soft tears on his naked chest. He is whimpering and crying and it's hard to understand his mutters. Lovino starts saying he loves him. He tells him one time, two, three, and four. He can't stop, it's impossible. He says he is sorry, that he doesn't hate him, that he misses him so hard that he wishes he could be mortal and kills himself.
Yet another Monophobic.
Antonio laughs and comforts him, that there's no reason to cry anymore. But he can't stops and cries again. The tallest man softly kisses the shortest forehead and he finally stops crying. His eyes are red from all the salty tears that have been shed.
"Tonio you're okay man?" The Prussian voice reaches the other two in the door way. Lovino rapidly pulls away and pushes Antonio to see who is asking. He sees with his blurred vision and gasps, out of air. The two older men were both merely clothed, only with light boxers, and Lovino had snapped already. It's too late.
"YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I HATE YOU! GO TO HELL! VAFFANCULLO" He aggressively pushes Antonio, almost punching his stomach. He turns his feet and leaves enraged and storming.
"Man, don't worry, he will come back" Gilbert appears beside his friend. He laughs and wraps an arm around his friend's shoulder. The Latin pushes it away.
"I know" He says and close the door behind them.
...
One other day, the phone rings, but Antonio knows exactly who it is.
"Hello"
But this time, there is no Hi.
And there's no I'm sorry. Antonio doesn't feel the need to be forgiven, and he is rather happy about it. He smiles at his own reflection in the room's mirror.
"How are you Lovino?" he asks calmly.
The phone hangs.
Antonio hangs, chuckles and leaves the room, whistling.
There is things that never change, like Lovino Vargas from Italy.
