"Feli!" Antonio called out when he saw the small Italian walk through the door to his house. He scooped him up into a hug as Ludwig walked in behind him. The German man glared at the man touching his boyfriend.
"Stop huggin my brother, dammit!" yelled Lovino as his approached the three standing at the door. Taking a second look at Ludwig he spoke again. "What's the potato bastard doing here?"
"Lovi, please be nice to our guests~," the Spaniard chided playfully. "Besides I invited them, remember? I told you yesterday."
"Hmf," the older Italian turned around and walked away.
"Come in, you two," Antonio smiled at Feliciano and Ludwig. "You'll catch a cold if you stay out there."
The two walked in and followed their host to his living room where he told them to make themselves comfortable. He then disappeared into the kitchen to bring them some food. Lovino watched as his lover brought out the snacks for them to eat while they hung out. He was supposed to be with them right now but he wasn't sure if he was welcome. With a frown, he looked to the ground and walked to his room. Even if he was welcome, he didn't feel like 'hanging out' with the others.
He listened to the others laugh downstairs, obviously having fun. They seemed too engrossed in what they were doing to notice that he wasn't there to share the moment with them. A tear slid down his cheek. When he realized this, he quickly wiped the drop from his face and became angry. Why did this affect him so much, dammit!
The hours quickly went by and his brother, with that German bastard, finally left. Lovino almost sighed in relief. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle with Antonio and have a good nights rest. He wouldn't make it obvious that he wanted it, but he was sure the Spaniard would force it upon him anyway. Deciding he couldn't wait for his boyfriend to come to bed, he headed down stairs and what he found did not make him happy.
Feliciano was still their but Ludwig was no where to be found. Perhaps he was waiting in the car. Before he could yell at his brother for still being their, Antonio spoke.
"Oh Feli, you don't need to clean up, I will do it. Besides, Ludwig is waiting for you."
"Ve~, it's okay! I like to help."
"Hehe, sometimes I wish Lovi would be so responsible."
The older Italian's heart skipped a beat. Maybe he misheard, but it seemed as though Antonio didn't want him. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he turned and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He could be over reacting, but his self esteem was never the best.
Feliciano had always been the one that everyone paid attention to. The one that everyone loved. Even his own lover seemed to like Feli more than him.
Finally, tears ran down his face. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't as he saw it to be, but it was difficult. In a last ditch effort to make the pain go away, he pulled out a box on the top shelf of the cabinet. He opened the lid slowly, to reveal several small razors that Antonio used for shaving. Grabbing one from the box and setting the rest to the side, he examined the piece of metal.
Lovino had never cut himself before because he had never felt the urge before. But now he did and he was scared.
Slowly, he lowered the blade to his arm, but hesitated as he did so. He felt it touch his skin and a shiver ran down his spine. It hadn't breached his skin yet, but the mere though of harming himself sent a spark of excitement through him. Before he could do anything, someone knocked hard on the door, causing him to move the blade too fast. It create a thin line of red across his wrist. He made a hissing noise at the sudden pain.
"Lovi, is that you in there?"
Trying to sound as if nothing was wrong, the Italian answered. "Yeah, what do you? I'm busy, dammit!"
"Just making sure."
With that, Antonio left him alone. Lovino sighed and looked at his arm. The cut hurt, but it felt good too. Like he was taking away some of his other pain. He brought the razor to his arm again and slowly slid it over his wrist again. Over and over he did this, losing count of how many cuts were now decorating his arm.
The last cut he made, his hand was shaking too hard, and he made the cut too deep. His mind was too fuzzy from blood loss to know this was a bad thing. His head leaned against the wall and his eyes slipped closed. He felt himself falling father and father away from reality. Darkness clouded his mind and he fell into unconsiousness.
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Antonio looked at the bathroom door. Lovino had been in there for over 30 minutes now. He frowned and approached the door and knocked. When he recieved no answer. and knocked again, this time calling out his name.
"Lovi, are you ok?" He still recieved no answer. Concern began to rise in him. "Lovi, please answer me."
Still no answer came from the other side. The Spaniard twisted the knob, but found it locked. He was scared. Why was the door locked and why was Lovino, his Lovino, not answering? Summoning up his strength, he took a few steps backward and lunged at the door. The entry gave way and he couldn't believe that what he was staring at was real. The Italian that he loved with all his heart, was lying on the floor in his own blood.
"Lovi!" Antonio screamed. Thinking quickly he grabbed a towel off the rack and pressed it against the wounds on the smaller man's arms. "Why, Lovi?"
Tears sprung from his eyes as he fumbled for his cellphone. As fast as he could with his shaking hands, he dialed 911.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"Please, help! A friend tried to commit..." the word caught in his throat. Swallowing, he continued, "suicide."
"Sir, please calm down. Help is on the way, but I need you to do something for me."
"Yes, what?"
"Check his pulse and breathing."
Antonio looked down at his lover and, with trembling hand, checked for any sign of his heartbeat. He found what he was looking for and went on to check his breathing. The first time someone might've checked, they might've said that he wasn't breathing, but if they listened harder they would've heard the quiet rasping and felt the hot air being blown on them.
"I found his pulse and he's still breathing."
"Okay good, now please sit tight. Help will be there soon."
"Thank you, goodbye." The Spaniard hung up and turned back to Lovino.
"Don't leave me," he said through his sobs.
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Lovino slowly opened his eyes and saw white above him. This wasn't his room. He suddenly became aware of a beeping sound. Looking around he saw all sorts of monitors. Hospital, was the first thing he thought.
Pain interrupted his musings. He gritted his teeth at the stinging sensation. The feeling seemed oddly familiar, then he remembered. He had cut himself. He wasn't sure how many times, but it was obviously enough times to land him in the hospital. He began to panic. He hadn't meant for it to go that far. Trying to lift both of his arms so he could bury his face, he found that his injured arm was being weighed down by something. Looking over he saw something that nearly made his heart stop.
Antonio was laying there, holding his hand. He noticed that the larger man had been crying. His tear stained face said it all. Well of course he had been the one to find him dying on the floor.
Lovino's heart began to race. He didn't mean to nearly kill himself. It was only to let the pain out, but he had gone too far and scared the Spaniard half to death. The Italian squeezed his hand.
"Oi, I'm awake, dammit." He knew he should probably atleast act like he did something wrong, but he was scared.
Antonio shifted and lifted his head, opening his eyes to reveal that they were blood shot. His eyes widened when he realized who he was staring at. He jumped up and pulled the small man into a hug.
"Lovi!" He exclaimed, burying his face into the crook of his neck. "Why did you do it?"
At those words his chest felt as though someone had seized it and squeezed as hard as they could. Overwhelming guilt shot through his body.
"I-I heard you talking with Feliciano, telling him that you wish you had him instead of me..."
"I never said that. I said I wish you were a bit more responsible. I would never trade you for anything, Lovi." Antonio hugged him tighter. "I thought you were going to die."
Lovino could feel hot tear slidding down his neck. He couldn't hold himself back anymore. Tears burst from his eyes. "I'm sorry."
Under normal circumstances, Antonio would've wondered what was wrong with his little Italian that made him apologize, but he knew what was wrong and didn't let him go until, Lovino moved away. "I'm sorry too."
"Why are you sorry?"
"Because I forget how fragile your self esteem is, and I don't think before I speak. For that I am sorry."
New tears began to form in the smaller man's eyes. Quickly he began to wipe his eyes. "Dammit, you tomato bastard..." What was meant to be a yell, came out as little more than a whisper.
Antonio smiled. "Please, Lovi. Don't ever do that again. I don't know what I'd do without you."
After a moment of silence, the Italian spoke. "Antonio..."
"Hm?"
"What is it, my sweet tomate?"
Lovino looked into the Spaniards eyes and mumbled, "iloveyou..."
"What?" Antonio cocked his head to the side in confusion.
"I..." The Italian took a deep breath. "Love you."
A look of surprise came over Antonio's face, but he quickly shook it off and smiled. "I love you too, Lovino."
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ARG, I feel so bad for hurting Lovino! Forgive me, but this idea came to me and I had to write it out. Okay now back to brainstorming for my other stories. Don't forget to review~!