This is another sad one. But I liked the ending; plus there's a poem at the end , and who doesn't love poetry!
["We try so hard to hide everything we're really feeling from those who probably need to know our true feelings the most. People try to bottle up their emotions, as if it's somehow wrong to have natural reactions to life."
― Colleen Hoover, Maybe Someday]
Not Enough
Chiara traced her shaky finger on the café table. Her eyes darted around nervously, hoping to catch a glimpse of her loud-mouth little brother before he made a scene. She had called him around two in the morning, sobbing and blubbering incoherent sentences. He offered to show up at her apartment, but she couldn't allow her brother – or anyone really – to see her that way, so she offered a small coffee shop a couple blocks down from his home. Feliciano was quick to agree.
When he arrived, his eyes flickered around, filled with too many emotions for Chiara to count. She whispered his name and he let out a breath of relief, rushing to her side and engulfing her in a tight, rather cold, hug. "Oh, sorella." He pressed his freezing hand onto her cold cheek, but she didn't pull away, she leaned into the innocent touch.
Knowing his sister didn't want to talk about the incident just yet, Feliciano offered to buy the both of them a cup of coffee. Chiara merely nodded, searching for words which seemed so far away. He breathed out and blinked before heading toward the counter.
Chiara had been on edge for a couple months. She constantly called him, sometimes in rather inappropriate times, visited him, and requested his presence. It was all a strange concept for him, his sister was never one show much emotion. He only wanted the best for her.
It came time for Feliciano to order and he was quick, nearly throwing the money at the cashier before pointing at the table where he sat. He sat down, offered a small smile and reached over, taking her hand in his. She blinked a few times before squeezing his hand, as if the mere action would pull every broken piece inside of her. She frowned when it didn't.
"Here. Drink up." The voice was harsh, unique, and one Chiara was used to hearing. Her eyes followed the arms that slammed the coffee cups on the table, rather roughly. Her frown twitched when she met the purplish-red eyes staring coldly at her. She attempted to respond, but he shook his head. "Save it for someone who cares."
Tears pricked at Chiara's hazel eyes, a sob catching in her throat. Feliciano glared, a rare action for the cheery Italian, at his boyfriend's brother. "Gilbert. Don't talk to her like that. It's disrespectful, apologize."
Curious eyes from around the shop managed to land upon the trio. Chiara crying into her open palms, Feliciano standing with his eyebrows knitted, and Gilbert with a look of annoyance on his visage.
The self-proclaimed Prussian crossed his arms bitterly. "I'll apologize when she apologizes to Antonio." Feliciano's eyebrow twitched as his sister's cries turned sobs at the name. Antonio? He had never heard of that man having any relation to his sister. He had seen him a couple of times, more often than not those past few months.
"Antonio?" He question lingered unanswered in the crowded shop as Gilbert returned to the counter and Chiara ran out of the café. Coffee cups forgotten, Feliciano ran after his sister his shouts for her growing louder as she ran farther.
When her legs could no longer run, Chiara slammed her body against a brick wall, hands tearing at her brunette waves harshly. Feliciano arrived shortly after, breath labored, and eased her hands away from her head, holding them tightly in his when she released the hair.
Chiara wrestled back her hands and wrapped her arms around her brother for comfort. Feliciano, shocked at the sudden affection, hugged her back, eyes watering. The elder sibling nuzzled into her brother's strong chest, trying her hardest to relax her breathing. "Tell me what's wrong, per favore."
"I…" She stayed quiet. For how long? Neither of them knew and neither of them cared. Feliciano was willing to wait an eternity for his sister to be ready. All he wanted was her happiness, and the first step to happiness is acknowledging your demons.
"How about we go to my house? I can have Ludwig fix us up some snacks and we can watch movies until you feel better." Chiara nodded into his brother's chest, whining as he grabbed his hand and pulled her along the sidewalk.
She remained quiet the entire walk, not commenting on the ridiculous summer outfits worn in the middle of winter, not on the eerie looking mid-day sun, or on the adorable cats they passed in the pet shop. She simply stared, something she found herself doing often.
When they arrived, Feliciano sat Chiara on the couch and hurried to talk to Ludwig. The blond was surprised to see his boyfriend back so fast. "How'd it go, Feliciano? Is your sister doing better?"
He chuckled awkwardly. "Ha. Not really. When I got to the shop she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I hugged her and went to order our coffee. When I sat back down she kind of just stared. It was strange, and scary, and I didn't like it one bit, Luddy. And then your brother was so rude to her. He said something about Antonio, but I didn't understand because-."
"Breathe, Feliciano." The exuberant Italian did as he was told. "What did Gilbert do?"
He blinked, then frowned at the memory that was still freshly imprinted in his head. "He was rude to her, he slammed the coffee on the table and then when she tried to apologize he told her to save it for someone who cared. Isn't that just cruel?"
"Oh." His eyes widened in realization and flickered toward the living room. "Are they not on good terms? Gilbert let him sleep over and I think he is-"
"Ludwig. I…"
. . .
Chiara froze as loud footsteps echoed behind her. Feliciano hadn't told her he had visitors, she wouldn't have come if he did. Regardless, she managed to keep her eyes fixed on the television, which was off. As the steps grew closer, she began to panic.
Feliciano would have definitely told her if he had guests. Maybe he didn't know. Maybe some weirdo snuck into his home and not even Ludwig knew about it. Maybe it was -.
"Ludwig, I…" Oh.
He gulped, eyes scanning the head of chocolate brown waves and red headband, frozen. She sat still, her mind chanting the phrases: If you stay still, he won't see you. It worked… for about three seconds. "Chiara?"
The shock, hurt, betrayal, astonishment, and irritability in his tone caused her to cringe. She slowly turned, eyes widening at the sight and a faint blush forming on her cheeks as she looked away. He looked like a mess. His hair looked messy, oily, and unwashed. His face was stubbly, green eyes bloodstained and dazed. He wore nothing but a pair of tomato boxers and the strange, colorful socks Chiara had gotten him during their anniversary.
She chocked back a silent sob before speaking. "Antonio."
"What are you… doing here?" His voice was gruff, as if he had just woken up.
Chiara blinked, confused. "This is my brother's apartment." Her tone was sour, and he exhaled. "What are you doing here?"
He shuffled from behind her, sitting in the empty seat beside her. She stiffened. "My best friend's house."
A thick silence fell between them as Chiara looked at the floor and Antonio looked anywhere but. It was obvious that something happened between the two. She attempted to hide her sob with a cough and Antonio shook his head, muttering some Spanish curse word, as he pulled her into a wordless hug.
The Italian cried softly into his chest, surprised that he stilled managed to smell like brown sugar and tomatoes, her favorite smell. As she cried, she subconsciously muttered the phrased I'm so so sorry repeatedly. Antonio reassured her that everything was fine as he brushed her hair with his shaky fingers and muttered sweet nothings into her ears.
They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the comfort they had longed for in the past few months, enjoying each other's warmth, breath, touch. Everything they had been deprived off. Everything that meant the world to them.
Antonio was the first to break the silence, his green eyes staring deeply into her hazel ones. "… Why?"
That one word. That one word Chiara had been trying to avoid for almost four months. The one word that deserved thousands and thousands of answers. The one word whose answer would probably devastate Antonio farther than his current state.
She shut her eyes, exhaled loudly, and licked her lips. "I… I couldn't tell you. There was no fucking way I could tell you. Mio Dio. I could never… I can't make you happy, Antonio… I just can't"
Antonio chuckled humorlessly, eyes staring past her. "That is the most ridiculous statement I have heard in my life, Chiara Lovina Vargas. You make me happier than anyone or anything I've ever known! What in the world would make you think that?"
The first time she said it, it was almost inaudible. She heard it loud and clear, but he asked her kindly to repeat. Her breath was deep, shaky and broken, but she still found her words. "I… I can't have kids." She couldn't tell what language she spoke it in, but she shut her eyes tight, avoiding Antonio's gaze.
"…What?"
"That's why I left." She began. "The day I left, the doctor told me I was infertile. He said that I would never be able to have kids and… I couldn't... I still can't do that to you." She didn't bother opening her eyes, she could almost picture his broken green eyes. "You deserve someone so much better… a woman who can bear children. Someone who can bring you pure happiness and a family and… everything I can't."
She hadn't realized she was crying until she felt his calloused thumb brush up against the wetness of her cheek. She let her eyes flutter open, closing them instantly when met with glassy eyes.
"No. Look at me, Chiara." The stubborn woman took a deep breath and opened her eyes once more. He offered her a small smile, one which she did not return. He took her hand in his, pressing his lips all over the back of her hand. She found it hard to keep a straight face, and laughed when his innocent kissing turned into playful tickling.
"Stop, Antonio. I'm being serious!"
The Spaniard scoffed. "Seriously stupid." He grabbed her by the cheeks, and pulled her face close to his. His lips hovered above hers as he spoke, his breath minty. "You. Are. So. Very. Stupid. Sometimes." Each word ended in a sweet, chaste peck of the lips.
She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "I am not. I'm being serious." She retorted, eyes half lidded. "You love children, Toni. Since I met you, you talked aimlessly about what our kids would look like in the future, how they would act, what sports they would play… when I found out that I couldn't… I had to… I couldn't tell you." She exhaled shakily. "I hoped that it would be years before we saw each other again, that when I saw you, you would have little mini-." She swallowed an impatient sob and continued. "Little mini Antonio's running around… that you would be happy with someone who wasn't me."
Antonio shook his head and chuckled. "Chiara. Can't you see? I can put all that aside. I don't mind living my life without children of my own. We can adopt, there's other methods of having a child. What I can't have is another one of you."
He brought their lips together, smiling wildly into the short kiss. "I can't imagine my life without you. These past few months have been absolute hell. Don't you ever do that to me again! No más, princesa."
The two sat in silence once more, but this one was different. It was full of compassion, understanding, and love. It was one of those rare moments in life where everything was supposed to fall apart at the seams, but it somehow, beautifully fixed itself. Chiara couldn't be happier.
She wiped the involuntary tears from her face. "I'll stay with you if you promise me one thing."
Antonio raised an eyebrow. His breathing now steady. "What?"
She giggled childishly. "Can you shave your face? You do not look cute like that." Antonio rolled his eyes, bringing her in for another heartfelt kiss.
. . .
"Are you sure, Toni? You said it was fine if we didn't have one. You don't have to do this because of me." He squeezed her hand reassuringly and nodded.
"I'm sure. It's best for the both of us." Chiara blinked and hugged him tight. The pair stood in front of a pet store, Chiara's face pressed to the glass like a child. She cooed at the cats and Antonio chuckled. "If you get you cat, I get my turtle."
Chiara laughed dryly at him and rolled her eyes. "Sure."
"You're no fair," he whispered, placing a warm, gentle kiss. She returned it with enough enthusiasm to make his heart melt.
. . .
He proposed a few days after. Of course, she said yes. They moved into a home a couple years later taking Key, the adorable Pixie-bob cat – named by Antonio after Chiara, and Churro, the turtle – also named by Antonio.
Five years later, they made the mutual decision to adopt. The process was long and inevitably costly, but Antonio had managed to adopt a newborn Spanish baby girl named Isabella. She seemed to be an uncanny mixture of the both of them. Green eyes, like Antonio and light caramel skin, like Chiara.
Isabella grew up, Chiara and Antonio grew old. Their family of five turned into a family of six when Antonio mentioned wanting another. This time they brought home an Italian boy, nearly five years old, named Sebastian.
Antonio couldn't have been any happier with how his life turned out.
When the times are tough and when the winds blow
Love conquers all and it continues to show
When no one cares and the world is bleak
Love conquers all for those who seek
A love so true that the angels sing
This feeling I have can only be one thing
An undying love that withstand anything that is seen
The good times, the bad times and everything in between
So when people say it's over, don t believe what they say
Because love conquers all, come what may.
Love Conquers All - Amy Scott
(The stanzas did a weird thing when it saved...)
End