"I wish it could snow again," Antonio commented brightly as he walked with Lovino down the street, swinging their arms like morons. The fucking snow from Hell had finally melted a few days ago, and Lovino honestly could not feel any more relieved. Antonio, on the other hand, was more-or-less the complete opposite of what his boyfriend was like. It was really strange that this young man was born and raised in a hot climate that barely had rain, almost never had snow, and was just warmth all over, yet he still preferred cold, bitter winters over his warm summers. What an asshole. Even if this had been a running-on thing, Lovino never mentioned it. Antonio just looked so lovely and pretty during the wintertime, with rosy cheeks and nose, and tiny white flakes in his hair. It made Lovino wish he could just take a picture of his boyfriend, just like that, so he wouldn't secretly have to wish for more snow to come.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me." The Italian shook his head. "I'm so fucking happy all that shit snow is gone."
Antonio made a perplexed face. "Are you serious? I'd much rather be cold than melt over in Europe."
"Well, not all of us like to be like Jack Frost, y'know."
This was their first unofficial official Canadian spring spent together. Contrary to popular belief, it didn't snow for full on years, or whatever. Winter had only lasted about four months, and slowly was changing into a warm but wet primavera. But it was beautiful, even with the wet grass and all. You could practically hear Vivaldi in the distance.
"Oh, but don't get me wrong-" Antonio stopped walking and bent down to pick up a small white flower with its stem still amazingly intact. "I love spring, too. It's in between blisteringly cold and blisteringly hot."
"Now, wait a minute, Toni: we actually haven't experienced summer here yet, so we don't actually know how summer's gonna be like."
"That's true. Ah, well, I just hope Canada's magical like Narnia and has snow in August."
Lovino cracked up, an easy smile slipping onto his face. "You're so random it's cute."
Antonio flashed his partner his signature million-watt grin, twirling the flower in between his thumb and forefinger. "Thanks~ I try~" But then, he pulled Lovino to a stop and stepped in front of him completely. He reached up with both hands, and gently tucked the small flower behind the Italian's ear. With a hum of approval and a quick peck on the cheek, Antonio continued tugging Lovino along again.
"Love you always, Lovino Vargas."
"Love you forever, Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo. And thanks for making my sexuality so very discreet to the public."

"Ohmigod! Lovi! I'm crying! Look!" An in-tears Antonio shoved a book into Lovino's face.

"Antonio! What the hell, we're in a bookstore!" The Italian whispered furiously, but nonetheless took the book and started reading. Oh, great. A kids' book. He knew how into Dr. Seuss Antonio was, so this must be another one.
But...no, it didn't seem like it was. The writing style was different, a little more mature...Lovino started reading.

A mother held her new baby and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she held him, she sang:
'I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always
As long as I am living, my baby you'll be.'

Lovino frowned and flipped through the next pages. Is this really a kids' book? Wow. It was...sweet. And sad.
He looked up from the book to see twin tears making their way down Antonio's face. His chin quivered as he peeped,
"C-Can we get it...my Lovi?"
The young Italian quickly analyzed their surroundings. About ten kids...five or six mothers...three babies...and two fathers that looked like they were in pain just by being here (they were in the children's section, after all). And so, Lovino did the most reasonable thing.
"Get the damn book. We're leaving."

"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my Lovi you'll be~"

The damn song was stuck on replay. Antonio either sang it out loud or hummed it contently to himself. It a cute song, very sweet and reassuring, but honestly, it was getting pretty annoying.
Antonio sang it in the shower, hummed it while cooking dinner, and sang it softly to Lovino before going to bed.
Lovino decided to bring up his annoyance with the song one evening at the dinner table.
"...Wh...What? Lovi...you...you don't like it?"
"I do like it. It's just...getting so annoying now. It's been about four weeks already that I've been hearing it."
"B-But it's so nice! Lovi, it's so heartwarming, and beautiful, and i-it brings back memories...!"
"I know," Lovino responded firmly. "I know. It...it's just...it's bugging me, alright?"
Antonio looked like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and eaten in front of his eyes, but eventually he nodded slowly.
"...Okay," He whispered. "I'm sorry for bugging you..."
For the next couple of days, the song wasn't sung. It wasn't hummed. It wasn't whispered. The shower was on, but the bathroom was silent. The radio was turned on in the kitchen during cooking and eating. Lovino should've felt guilty, but he didn't. Antonio didn't look too sad, after all. He was smiling and laughing softly again in no time.
It was just a stupid song from a stupid book.

"Where the hell is he?" Lovino muttered, tapping his fingers anxiously against his thighs. It was a few weeks later, and Antonio had left Canada briefly to fly to Seattle to speak with some Ivy League schools about whatever-the-fuck. He said he was going to be back today, a week after departure, at about four o'clock PM. It was almost five fucking thirty. Where did this bastard disappear to?

Lovino was getting nervous. His palms were sweating up a storm, and he kept rubbing them along his pants legs (not that that helped him in any way).
A young blond, distinguished as Lovino's best friend Matthew, was sitting beside him on the couch, looking a bit worried for both the Spaniard /and/ the Italian. "Well...his flight could've been delayed..."
"Then he would've called me." Lovino's voice was low, monotonous, as if he was in no mood for any horseshit reasonable reasons behind this. "He hasn't called me in three days, so I'm a bit fucking worried, Matthew!"
The Canadian sighed. "It'll be fine, Lovino. He probably just forgot to call. He's probably on his way right now, panicking that you're freaking out about him being late and all. You know how thick-headed he can be."
Lovino leaned back against the couch briefly, before he stood up abruptly to peek behind the drapes in front of a big window. "That's...that could happen," He said softly. "Maybe I am just flipping out a bit too much..."
He flinched as Eminem's 'Rap God' materialized out of the air. He fished around in his pocket for his phone, and after yanking it out he glanced at the caller ID.
"Oh, thank Christ, it's him!" Feeling happy and relieved and excited all of a sudden, Lovino grinned from ear-to-ear as he answered the call. "Oh, Toni, baby, I've missed you, you little turd. The fuck have you been the last hour and half or so?"
"Is this Lovino Vargas?" An unfamiliar, female-sounding voice comes from the other end of the call. The fact that it wasn't Antonio's sweet, smooth voice made Lovino's blood run cold.
"Uh...y-yes, that's me. Who is this? Why do you have my boyfriend's phone?" He demanded, making Matthew turn to him with a confused expression.
"We're very sorry to tell you this, Mr. Vargas, but Mr. Fernandez-Carriedo has just been in a fatal car accident."
Lovino felt like his heart had been mashed into a pulp with a meat tenderizer. His throat tightened painfully, and he suddenly felt light-headed, dizzy.
The woman continued. "We've just checked him into the Seven Oaks hospital. He was brought into the ER not too long ago, and the doctors have told me he's in critical condition. We checked his phone records, and found that you were the last person he reached out to. Mr. Vargas...we'd like you to come down to the hospital right away."
The nurse's voice was slow and calm, but it blared loudly in Lovino's head. It was giving him a bad headache, alongside the dry throat and the crushed sensation in his ribcage. Although his head felt like it was going to explode from all the sudden emotions and feelings and thoughts, he somehow managed out a response.
"...I'm on my way."

Twenty minutes later, Lovino paced impatiently in the waiting room. His footsteps were loud and powerful, echoing off the bland drywalls, signalling all the anger, frustration, sadness and fear that has welled up in him.

He kept muttering things to himself, words that blamed him only, words that hated him only, words that said, 'I caused this somehow, I did all of this'.
Matthew was uselessly trying to calm him down, pleading him softly to sit down.
"I'm not fucking sitting down, Matthew!" Was the consistent, bitter response every time the Canadian asked.
"P-Please, Lovino, you're making a scene..."
"Oh, this is making a scene, Matthew?! I'm making a scene?! My fucking boyfriend is gonna die any fucking minute, and you're telling me to sit down?!" Heads turned at the loud, hateful voice, and parents covered their children's ears from the obscenities. The nurses scattered along the waiting room gave the distraught and grief-ravaged Italian a cold, nasty glare, but Lovino ignored them entirely.
"Fuck...fuck!" A hard kick to a table, causing all the contents on it to rattle or fall off loudly.
Much to Matthew's relief, another nurse came into the waiting room and called out, "Vargas?"
Lovino's head whipped around towards the nurse, body frozen momentarily. The nurse gave him a curt nod, smiling wryly at him.
"Would you like to see him?"
She didn't even need to say who he was.

The walk down to the ICU was painfully long. Lovino wished he could run, run and ignore everybody who tried to stop him. He used to be a runner in high school, so he could actually get away with it. But he didn't. His legs felt heavy and filled with lead. He was barely registering what the nurse was telling him and Matthew (they had let him come as well), and he just felt like his head was going to pop within the next minute.

But then he heard the nurse's next words.
"Frankly, we're all not too sure he'll make it through the night. He'll be one very lucky young man if he wakes up tomorrow morning."
Lovino's legs gave out underneath him, and he collapsed to the floor with a heart-wrenching sob. Matthew was kneeling beside him in a flash, hands on his shoulders and voice still soft and soothing.
"Come on, Lovino, we have to go see him. Don't give up on hope now."
"I c-can't do this anymore!" The trauma-filled Italian stood up once more, and started backing away, shaking his head.
"I can't," He whimpered. "No, no, no, I-I can't..."
But Matthew wasn't letting him go too far. He held Lovino's arm in an iron grip, refusing to let him go.
"No, Lovino! This isn't up for debate! You need to see him. He needs to see you. So go and talk to him. Please."
Lovino struggled weakly, but, feeling too defeated and heartbroken to use his strength and leave, he allowed Matthew to pull him along.
A few minutes later, the nurse pushes open the door that his precious Antonio is fighting for his life in.

The walls are too bright, they hurt Lovino's eyes. The lights are too flashy, they hurt Lovino's head. The sounds are too loud, they're like drums in his ears.

The room reminds Lovino of an insane asylum. Walls pure white, floors pure white, beds pure white, lights pure light, tables pure white, chairs pure white, as if white is supposed to help the sick-minded folk 'cast the demons out of their souls'. If Lovino wasn't already feeling like his entire being was slowly being sliced to bits by a chainsaw, he would've laughed.
But it was no time for laughing. There lay his gorgeous Antonio against the wall on a hospital bed, an IV hooked up to his arm, and an oxygen mask over his mouth. His eyes were closed, and Lovino honestly thought he was dead from how peaceful and still he was.
A broken sob escaped the Italian's lips as he slowly inched his way over to Antonio's side. As he got closer, he saw the ugly scars and bruises that were marring his boyfriend's previously flawless face. There was a long cut that ran from his brow bone to the edge of his jaw. He would have that scar his whole life...or...rather...a-as long as he lasted.
A shaking hand rested on Antonio's ice-cold hand, and gently squeezed. Antonio never liked having cold hands...he liked the cold, but he hated cold hands. He said that whenever he has cold hands, they get numb very quickly and then they start hurting like you wouldn't believe. But then Lovino would try to warm them up with his own hands, gently rubbing them over his boyfriend's stiff fingers. They would eventually get warmer, and Antonio would express his thanks by kissing Lovino's cheek and cooing about how cute and sweet he is.
That was then...this is now.
Antonio's hands weren't getting any warmer now.
"...L...Lov...i?"
The voice was so soft, so weak, Lovino just barely heard it. He lifted his eyes to meet stunning jade eyes that he loved so much. They were always beautiful, but they just looked so...empty right now.
Hot tears forced their way out of the Italian's eyes, dripping off his chin. "Oh...T-Toni..."
Although it pained him to do so, Antonio managed a small, cute grin. "Hola, mi amorcito lindo preciosa encantadora...~ How...h-how are you?"
"How am...I?" Lovino choked out in disbelief. God...Antonio was such a dense asshole, even on his deathbed. "How am I? Who the hell cares? How the fuck are you?"
His Spanish boyfriend chuckled, and his tired eyes twinkled merrily. "I could...be b-better...a-as you can see..."
"Yeah...I got that far." Lovino brought Antonio's hand up to his face, brushing his lips across cold knuckles before pressing them against his warm, wet face.
Finally those frozen fingers moved, lovingly caressing a bronze cheek. "Mi amor...w-why are you crying, my Lovi-love...?"
The Italian sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, and forced himself to keep his voice smooth and calm so he doesn't scare Antonio. "B-Because...because I...y...y-you're hurt..."
"Lovi...it's okay...things'll be okay...i-it was my fault anyways...I...I wasn't...looking...crashed...i-into a tree..."
"Shh..." Lovino gently shushed his boyfriend, wanting him to save his remaining bits of energy. "Shh..."
Antonio obliged, and stayed silent for a few minutes, letting Lovino kiss and try to warm up his fingers.
About seven minutes of silence later, the beeps from the heart rate monitor grew noticeably slower. The Spaniard's breathing grew staggered, like he was struggling to keep his oxygen levels under control.
Lovino's heart beat grew erratic, panic paralyzing his body and polluting his mind with fear, fear, fear, thoughts of 'no, he's not going to leave me, not like this, not so soon' leaving him shuddering and cold.
"Lovi..." The hoarse voice comes from the broken, sweet young Spanish man. "L...Lovi...I'm...I'm going away...for a while..."
"No," Lovino whispered, shutting his eyes tightly and pressing his lover's hand to his cheek tightly. "N-No, don't talk like that, you bastard..."
Long fingers stroked the Italian's cheek, tangling in his hair. "I am, though...i-it's the truth...I can feel it..."
"No...n-no, no, no...no, y-you can't leave me..."
"I'm sorry...my Lovi..." Jade orbs slowly slunk over and stopped on something that was resting on the bedside table. "Lovi...y...you see that...book...there?"
A feeble nod, even though Lovino hadn't opened his eyes.
"Can...c-can you...read it to me...please?"
Another nod, and the Italian sat up slowly, reaching for the book. His eyes widened as he saw the title of the book.
"I-It's...'Love You Forever'..."
"Mmmhmm..."
"B-But...you've read it so many times..."
"I-It's my favourite," Antonio breathed. "Please, Lovi...o-one last time..."
Lovino wouldn't object. He couldn't. So, he shakily opened the book, and started reading.
"'A-A mother...held her...new baby and...v...very slowly...rocked him back and forth...back and forth...back and forth...a-and while she held him, she sang...'"
He couldn't do this. He couldn't continue. A word formed in his mind, then a flood; then it was gone. He was broken. A sob formed in his throat, and he was just about to explode into a waterfall of sorrow, pain, and agony, but a gentle hand on his hair stopped him.
"Please...Lovi...c-continue...my love..."
Lovino trembled violently, soft sobs and whimpers escaping his lips. For Antonio, he would do it. For Antonio, he would do anything.
He drew his eyes back to the book. He opened his mouth, and he sang.
"'I'll love you forever...I'll like you for always...as long as I'm living...my baby...you'll be...'"
Lovino read the rest of the story out loud very slowly, and sang the song until the beeps from the monitor slowed down to a flatline.
He didn't want to leave. He never wanted to leave. He wanted to stay there forever, with Antonio's cold hand on his face. He wanted to sit there in the hospital room until he was reunited with his beloved. But he knew inside he couldn't do that.
He had to move on. Eventually, he had to say goodbye. Today just so happened to be that day.
They never got married. Lovino had planned to propose later this week, after taking Antonio to his favourite restaurant, favourite movie, and favourite park. They would finally be able to be together, forever, be able to raise a family, and just be happy with each other.
Lovino would never love someone as much as he loved that bastard Antonio.
Matthew finally pulled him away from his lover, whispering words of condolence and sincerity for the Spaniard's passing, but Lovino happily decided to block him out from his world permanently.
He didn't need any pity.
He deserved no pity.
He didn't even deserve Antonio.
Maybe God planned this out...
Maybe it was his fate...
In death they may have parted, but Lovino's love would remain on for eternity.
Buonanotte, la mia amata.

A/N: Ah, jeez. I'm going to cry now. Who the fuck signed me up for this angst shit?

A/N 2: The beautiful, lovely book that's mentioned in this oneshot is Love You Forever by Robert Munsch. That fucking book will make your feels shoot themselves in the head.
A/N 3: Thinking of making a smutty oneshot next week...thumbs up? Thumbs down? Aye? Nay?

So how did I do? All this depressing shit winter is still here, so I tried to input as much sadness and angst as possible.
Anyways, since I'm not very creative and/or imaginative, I'm requesting some ideas for my next oneshot. Actually, I wanted to do another multichap story, so a long plotline would be excellente.
Thanks for reading!
Stay classy.