Berwald tapped his fingers on his desk quietly, cupping his cheek in his hand. These classes were pointless to attend, as he already knew all the stuff teachers were attempting to help him learn. Still, he was a diligent student, and refused to miss or skip any class, despite how useless they were. Besides . . . Tino sat next to him. In case you weren't already aware, Tino, in Berwald's opinion, was the sweetest little cinnamon angel ever to walk this Earth. He tried so hard to make jokes and lighten up the awkward atmosphere between them, and Berwald appreciated it.
Tino had just celebrated his 18th birthday last month. It was a new year, which always brought new goals, hopes, wishes . . . And for once, Berwald had forced himself not to get mad at Mathias when the five of them; Berwald, Tino, Mathias, Emilio, and Lukas, were together. Lukas did enough of that as it was. Besides, he had to be in Tino's good graces if he wanted to . . .
They were 18, old enough to marry, and Berwald had held romantic feelings for Tino in his heart, locked away in a golden chest, for years. Just when he was about to give Tino the key, each time he tried to tell Tino his feelings, he would get embarrassed and never have the courage. He had to be stronger. If he never said anything, then Tino would just be whisked away. Already, Berwald had doubts, as they were both guys, and Tino didn't seem to be gay, but perhaps he had the slightest chance . . . or maybe it was just in his wildest dreams that Tino would accept. Berwald, in a panic, had went to the only person who seemed to know much of romance; the notorious but charming player, Francis.
The two weren't close friends or anything, but rumors around the school had led him to Francis, who, touched by his pure and clear feelings, had offered to help him look for a ring. Francis admitted that he had considered both of them, but didn't go after either of them because they 'weren't his type.' Finally, the pair had found the perfect rings; matching halos donned with shining sapphires. Berwald had given them a down payment and taken out a loan for it, which Francis found 'in poor taste.' Knowing himself, Berwald would never be able to-No, he had to do it! He made a promise to himself. Berwald would confess at the school's upcoming festival.
"Um, Berwald, you're sitting in the wrong seat . . ." Tino said quietly as he sat at their usual table.
Berwald turned his head to look at Tino, and immediately, Tino's shoulders shot up. "O-Oh, I'm sorry, n-no, never mind, that's right, you can sit wherever you want, it's fine, it doesn't matter, um-"
"No, you're right. Sorry, I spaced out." Berwald cursed himself mentally for his error, and went back to sit in his usual chair.
As the professor's monotonous voice droned on, Berwald's eyes zipped around the whole room. Something was off . . . Everyone seemed tenser than normal, and a couple times, another professor would come in and speak to our professor in a hushed voice. What was going on?
"Say, Tino . . ."
"Y-Yes?"
"Do you know what's been going on? Everyone seems so tense . . ."
"Oh, you didn't hear? They announced earlier that suspicious people have entered the area, so we should be caref-" A loud, shattering sound cut off his voice.
A nearby flowerpot had fallen. In its scattered pieces, a small object shined in the soil. A bullet . . .
"Tino, we have to go."
"W-What, but-"
"You said suspicious people, right? Let's go."
Everyone had the same idea as them, but were reacting in many different ways. Some thought it wise to fake their deaths, and let their bodies fall into the background, trying to draw the focus off themselves. Some tried to run, some fainted, some freaked out . . . The building was chaos. Berwald, pulling Tino by his delicate hand, ran as fast as he could, putting as much distance between him and the school as possible. It was a desperate thought, that they would escape, but in a crisis, one may not always think straight.
"B-Berwald, this is useless! We're going to be shot, running like this won't help-"
"It won't help if you stop. If we keep moving, maybe they won't find us. We have to notify authorities about this."
They were both beginning to tire. Berwald's breath was catching in his throat, and Tino's legs were aching, not responding to his brain's commands to keep going.
"Dammit . . ." Berwald gritted his teeth, then felt his hand try to pull at a deadweight. Why did Tino stop!?
"Tino, wha-" Tino had completely frozen. His purple eyes were filled with tears and growing despair.
All around them laid bodies of the innocent. The stench of blood floated in the air, choking Berwald and causing him to cough. Meanwhile, Tino couldn't believe what he was seeing; how could he have thought, that with all of these innocent people dead, he deserved to live? They had families, friends, dreamed futures, just like him, and he had no right to continue living when they-
"Watch out!" Berwald shoved Tino aside, making the Finnish man stumble a little.
Tino's eyes widened, and he covered his mouth in horror. The Swedish man gripped Tino's hand in his, and walked in a stalwartly manner over to an alleyway. Blood was blossoming and blooming in an area below his chest, and each step he took was more labored, and more hesitant. He collapsed at his destination, coughing in a fit.
"W-We have to put pressure on this wound, we've got to call a doctor, this is really bad but you'll make it, you're strong!" Tino said in a panicked manner, tears streaming swiftly down his pale cheeks.
"No, it's okay. It's too deep for that."
"B-Berwald, you can't possibly-"
"I still have some time left . . ." He smiled in a soft way that Tino had never seen before.
"Berwald, this is all my fault, if only I hadn't-"
"This isn't your fault. Hah . . . At least your small physique is going to do you well. If you hide with my body, they won't think you're alive, and they won't shoot."
"No, we're going to make it out of this-!"
"That's right. We both will." He pressed his palm in the middle of Tino's chest. "Because I'll still live in here, and I'll watch over you four for as long as you are alive."
"That's not where the heart is."
"It isn't?"
"No, it's here." Tino moved Berwald's hand to the correct spot. His heartbeat was roaring in his ears.
Berwald glanced at his bag. "Can you open the front pocket of it for me?"
Tino nodded quickly and did as told. Berwald let out another rasping wheeze, his shoulders shaking as scarlet blood stained all the skin it touched, his heart beating rapidly and furiously.
"Get the black box and give it to me." Tino, oblivious to what was inside, tossed it carefully to Berwald, ensuring he'd easily catch it.
"It's too late for this now, but . . . I'm dying, so what do I have to lose now?" Berwald, with shaking fingers, tried to open the snappy box.
"L-Let me help you." Tino's long, delicate fingers curled around the box and pulled up the top, revealing the sparkling rings inside.
"I-I know I'm just an awkward idiot, and this is . . ." Berwald chuckled quietly, looking up to Tino with dulling blue eyes, "Poorly planned, but . . . I had hoped to ask your hand in marriage."
Tino covered his mouth with his hands, the tears cascading down his palms, the backs of his hands, everywhere.
"Don't cry . . . It's okay. You don't have to say yes, because I don't want to die with a fake reply to my feelings. It doesn't matter how you reply, as long as it stays true to you." Why hadn't he just said these words before? If only he hadn't procrastinated, things might have been different . . .
"Y-Yes. I say yes." Tino took the ring meant for Berwald, and slipped it onto his ring finger delicately. He then hugged him, sobbing, feeling the warm blood stain his shirt.
"D-Don't do that . . . You'll get everything stained. We rushed this, but . . . May I kiss the bride?"
"Of c-course you can." Tino leaned forward and kissed Berwald on the lips lightly, knowing that this kiss did not mean a new start, but an end to a dream.
A goodbye kiss . . . So sweet, yet so bitter. Berwald wanted his send-off to be meaningful, and all it had to be were three words. Truly, they would never be enough to express the late night texts, the hours spent thinking about him, the anxiety, the fear, the hope . . . but it was all they had time for.
"Tino . . . I love you." Berwald closed his eyes, knowing his time was up. He fell against Tino's surprisingly sturdy arms, and felt his last breaths fly away, going to serve another person as they breathed in the air another day.
He was gone. The emptiness in his eyes proved that much, yet Tino cried quietly for hours, hugging his stilled body, searching for warmth within those stiff fingers.