I remember the first time I saw you, in that lonely seat. Even tough I had no idea who you were, I wanted to go there and sit with you, kiss your hand and see your blush and smile. I wanted to hear your voice, I wanted you to look at me. There I was, behind the counter of my small Italian restaurant, begging you silently to raise your eyes and just look at me. But you never did. Nose always stuck to your books, or eyes glued with your friends and many times with your boyfriend.

I remember how much it pained me to see you with someone else, even though I didn't even know your name. I had no idea why. All I know I wanted so badly for you to look at me.

And one night, that stormy, cold night, you did. You came inside the restaurant, your umbrella red as your cheeks from the cold, but I also noticed your eyes red as well. You set on your usual spot and ordered a simple tomato soup. Even your voice sounded wrong. So, instead of the soup, I decided to bring you my specialty – pasta! But not just any pasta, that one was made by the recipe of my grandfather, the only thing I had from him, my treasure. You looked at me with confused look and said that wasn't what you ordered, but I simply replied it was on the house, and it will use her much better then tomato soup.

That was the first time you actually looked at me, and smiled at me.

That was when I knew, I knew, I was in love with you.

You thanked me, and I just shrugged it off, saying it was my pleasure to cook for such bella ragazza such as you, making you giggle. Hearing that made my insides swirl and my heart beat faster and I wanted to hear more.

I vaguely remember what happened after; all I know is that by the end of that month, I asked you out on the first date. You accepted, and I took you to the roof of my building where I was telling you about my old home, and you about your grandmother, and so on, and so on.

I kissed you in the middle of the conversation, not being able to hold myself back, I really wanted to kiss you. You were little mad, but forgave me really quick, and so that one kiss became another, and another, another.

Months passed you and I stayed intact. Your last year of college was ending quickly, while I still worked at that small Italian restaurant, and your mind was setting on the job. You wanted to be a detective. I supported you.

On your graduation day, I asked you to move in with me, to live with me. You said yes while throwing your arms around me and smiling widely. It took us whole weekend to set you in, but it was worth it. Waking up next to you, cooking for you, watching you planting the flowers on the windows and playing with Itabby, our pet cat, sleeping with you… It was all so amazing.

Two month after living together, I took you on the place of our first date, where I proposed to you. (y/n) Vargas, oh that name brought heaven to my ears.

However… Having so much luck in my life must have had a price, right?

Your grandmother came first to meet me, and I was really excited, for she was Italian like me. However, when she looked at me…

I couldn't imagine God being so cruel. That woman, that old lady you called your grandmother… That was my grandmother as well.

My nonno, no matter how much I loved him and respected him, had a typical Italian flaw. He was womanizer, and to be honest, I don't think there was a woman he hadn't slept with. That resulted me having tons of uncles, from whom I only knew three: Antonio from Spain, Francis from France and Vladimir from Romania. My father, Byzantine, died long ago leaving me and my brother Lovino with our nonno, until that fire that… killed our grandfather, and made my big brother think I was dead.

Anyways, there were you, shaking your head left and right while looking at me, then at yours… our grandmother. I can't blame you, though… After she left my father alone with my nonno, she re-married and gave birth to your mother, making me and you… first cousins.

After the truth being reveled, I stormed out from the apartment, right in my small Italian restaurant, where I am in the moment, trying to drawn my sorrow in the bottle of wine.

Cause even though I committed a sin, a sin of loving my own blood like that, of touching you the way I shouldn't have, I still love you! I still want that ring on your finger, I want your presence at that altar, I want your lips against mine, I want your heart against mine… I still want you besides me, like man wants a woman.

But I can't do that to you, I can't sin you as well… I can't, dammit!

I cry, I cry so loudly and pathetically while remembering that first time of seeing your eyes. When I realized I was in love with you.

My sobs are louder; my heart is getting more and more painful.

How am I suppose to live with myself now, knowing I love you in that way? Knowing every time I close my eyes, I'll still see you, smell you, feel your touch on my skin?! How am I suppose to live with myself?!

… I can't live.

No, I can't live with myself like this. I will go to hell eventually, so… Better sooner than later, at least you can move on faster… Please forgive me, please (y/n)…

I feel cold steel beneath my hand as I grab the kitchen knife from the counter. I stare at it for some time, looking at my reflection. Wow, I look like a mess, you wouldn't like me like this…

Goodbye, amore mio… Ti amo, (y/n)…

I swing, but I don't feel anything penetrating me, not one change, except something warm on my wrist. I slowly turn my head and…

There you are… Your red umbrella thrown on the side, red as your cheeks, and your eyes. You take the knife from my hand and kneel so you could be in my eye level. I can't move, I just look at you, cause… God, how beautiful you are! How many memories that face holds for me, I start to cry again.

Forgive me, I beg you through tears, forgive me.

You press your forehead against mine, and I feel your tears as well. You sob with me, your hands searching mine, crying over the sheer cruelty. Oh how much I love you…

Thunder cracks, and you whimper. I reflexly hug you, this was a routine for me, and kiss you in the hair.

Then you whisper my name, and I look at you.

Ti amo, you say to me.

I don't care, you add.

I only stare at you, not believing what I hear. I stare at your eyes, so full of tears. I know I shouldn't, I know what I need to say, but I can't…

So I kiss you, like I kissed you every day. You returned the kiss equally, our faces wet from tears, and the fear clutching our heart, knowing what are we doing now.

But just like you, I don't care. I love you. I will be at that altar, waiting for you. I will wake up next to you. I will feel our child whenever I press my hand to your stomach. I will grow old with you.

I will go to Hell with you.

Because (y/n), I love you.

I know it's a lil' bit sad, but I like this impossible love... And no, this ain't anything like Godfather. So please, pleeeeeease, review.