In reality, Lovino should have known something was wrong. Antonio was smiling too much, joking and laughing too much. He should have known he really wasn't happy, Lovino should have been able to see through the obvious fake smiles, and the misplaced jokes. The thing is though, he didn't. He didn't see the truth behind Antonio's eyes.

Lovino read over the note, trying to decipher the words. Was he to blame? Did Antonio grow to hate him? Lovino wouldn't blame him, it wasn't always the nicest person to be around, but he was sure Antonio was happy. He was sure Antonio didn't regret asking him out, taking him on date, being his boyfriend. Apparently, Lovino had been wrong, Antonio did regret it.

Lovino placed the note beside him on Antonio's Spanish flag duvet, hugging one of the pillows close to his face, breathing in the ever present scent of Antonio. He wouldn't cry though. He didn't have any right to shed tears for the teen, he was to blame after all.

"Lovino, sweetheart, are you staying for dinner?" Antonio mum popped her head around the door, hair dishevelled, obvious tear tracks down her cheeks. "There's plenty."

"Oh. Uh, no thank you, Mrs. Fernandez-Carriedo, I should be getting home. My grandfather's probably worried."

"Another time then. I made some cookies, why don't you take some back with you?"

Lovino smiled slightly. "That would be lovely, thank you."

The teen followed her out, and into the kitchen. Antonio's father and older brother, André, sat at the table, André pushing his food around on his plate, whilst his father sipped something from a mug. Neither acknowledged Lovino, not that Lovino minded all that much, he never did get along with them, both claiming he was a bad influence on their youngest son. They were right, he supposes, Lovino had been a bad influence.

"Here you go, dear. Careful on your way home, and remember you're always welcome." Lovino thanked Antonio's mother, before parting from the house and bolting down the street towards his own house. Feliciano, his little brother, sat on the front porch, sketch book and pencil in hand.

"You're home," he greeted quietly. "We weren't sure if you were going to come back."

"It's not like I've got anywhere fucking else to go," Lovino snapped, pushing open the front door and promptly slamming it behind him, blocking anything his little brother said out.

"Fel- Lovi?" Romeo smiled widely. Are you hungry?"

Lovino dropped the basket Antonio's mother had given him, the cookies spilling out of the side. "Why can't you all just leave me alone?"

"Lovino, don't talk to your brother like that," Romulus said, slapping down a hand on his eldest grandson's shoulder. Lovino shrugged it off, and stormed up the stairs without another word. He could hear the quiet talking of his family as he shut his door.

Lovino looked around his room, it was trashed. Memories of trashing it hazy, almost like a dream. If only it had been a dream, he thought to himself, kicking his way through the clothes covering his floor. He flopped down on the bed, ignoring something sharp stabbing into his back, or perhaps he didn't really acknowledge it at all.

"Lovino? Can I come in?"

"Fuck off!"

"Please, Lovi, I'm worried about you!"

"Feliciano, I swear to fucking God if you don't get away from my door, I'll fucking skin you."

He heard a loud sigh before retreating footsteps. Lovino looked around his room, he could see the smashed photo frames, the pictures inside torn, or scrunched from his anger rampage. He didn't bother picking anything up, nor did he bother to undress, Lovino just climbed under his covers and fell into a deep sleep, his pillow still smelling ever so slightly of Antonio.

Once again, Lovino sat down on the red and gold bed spread, a pillow clutched tightly in his arms, tears still refusing to fall. Part of him wanted to trash Antonio's room, make it look the same as his own, but everything was exactly where Antonio liked it. Lovino was thankful no one had come in here, no one had moved the little trinkets that made it Antonio's room.

Lovino woke up hours later, Antonio's mum standing over him, a soft smile on her otherwise sad features. She looked like she'd aged a lot in just a few days, Lovino noted, glancing up at her. Wordlessly, she settled onto the bed beside him and pulled the teen into her side, hugging him close. Lovino wanted to protest, wanted to pull away, it wasn't him she was supposed to be hugging, it was Antonio. He was too tired though. Lovino found he's been exhausted since he found out, other than his sudden fits of rage, he didn't do much but sit and read the note that had been left for him.

"How are you doing, Lovino?"

"'M fine," he replied, biting his lip.

"Stupid question, eh?"

Lovino stayed silent, staring at his nails.

"I know this is hard, Lovino, but don't forget to talk to someone. It's hard enough to get through this with lots of people around, don't try to get through it all on your own."

"I'm fine. Really."

"His funeral is next week, you will be there, won't you?"

Lovino bit down on his lip, nodding. "I'll be there."

"I want you to talk."

"Pardon?"

"He'd like that. He loved you a lot, Lovino."

"I don't know, Mrs. Fernandez-Carriedo."

"How many times have I told you, Lovino, call me Isabel." Isabel squeezed him tightly, her red painted fingernails digging into Lovino's arm. "Please do this, you were closer to him than anyone."

"I-I'll think about it."

"Please do."

Lovino paced around his room, notepad in hand. He'd already thrown several pages of scribbled out writing to the floor, joining the mess already scattered haphazardly around. He couldn't figure out what to write. He'd never written a eulogy before, what would he know about it? Was it supposed to be sad? Funny? He'd tried both ways, neither seeming right. The sad version seeming so opposite to the teen in question, and the funny seeming insensitive.

Lovino ripped another piece out, discarding it onto the floor with a loud groan. He'd considered asking someone to help him, but if he couldn't write it, who could? Lovino knew Antonio best, or at least he thought he did.

In a fit of rage, Lovino fell to his knees dropping the pad and pen on the floor. He stayed like that for a while, breathing heavily, chest heaving as he tried to calm the storm brewing in his mind.

"Come on, Vargas, you can fucking do this," he muttered to himself, picking the writing supplies back up. "Don't give up, you can do this. For him."

Lovino stood at the front of the church, staring back at the mass number of people that had gathered for the funeral. All eyes were on him, he could make out his family, Antonio's too. He stood silently, gathering his courage, eyes meeting those of Antonio's two best friends, Francis and Gilbert. Lovino sighed, before looking down at the pages in front of him.

"Hi. So, I'm Lovino Vargas. As a lot of you will know, I was, and still am, Antonio's boyfriend. I was asked to speak today, a special request. I wasn't sure if I wanted too to be honest, after all, Antonio had a lot of people that truly cared about him.

Antonio was one of the greatest people I had the pleasure of meeting. Although he died at such a young age, he didn't fail to leave a huge imprint on anyone who knew him.

I met Antonio when I was five, his parents used to babysit me and my brother when my parents were at work and my grandfather couldn't have us. I found the energetic boy to be rather annoying if I'm honest. He'd follow me around begging me to play hide and seek, or chase. I never wanted to play, I wanted him to leave me to myself. It took five years for him to finally grow on me, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thankful he didn't give up on me, and eventually got me to fall in love with him.

I can remember the first time Antonio asked me on a date, I was fourteen, he was fifteen. I'd never seen the poor boy so embarrassed. I didn't think it was possible for the upbeat, happy never shy person to look so meek and sheepish. I almost felt bad for turning him down. It was my turn to ask him out next, but being the shy kid I was, I couldn't say it to his face, so I wrote him a note. Who said love letters are out of fashion?" Lovino chuckled, a sad smile on his face. "He found me later that day, beaming and flailing the note in my face. He took me to the cinema that weekend. We saw some Disney film, Tangled if I remember correctly. Antonio did that stupid yawn and put his arm around me move, I can remember my cheeks heating up so much I thought I was going to pass out."

Lovino took a deep breath, staring out over the crowd. His eyes met Antonio's mother, who smiled and nodded her head in a silent encouragement.

"As everyone here will know, Antonio was a truly astounding person. He never failed to cheer me up when I was sad, or angry. He never pushed me to talk about things, instead waiting for me to choose to talk about them. I really loved him for that. He was always the best shoulder to cry on, a constant support in my life." It hit him hard, he wasn't expecting tears to start in his eyes, or his mouth start to quiver.

Truth is, although I was never good at showing it, I truly loved Antonio. He made every day a special one.

Antonio was as sappy as people come. He always made sure to send me stupid little poems, or he told me he loved me five hundred times a day. I can clearly remember the first time I found a love letter in my own bag, Antonio's messy handwriting scribbled across the page in a cheesy poem. The words have stayed with me though." Lovino wiped at his eyes, willing the tears to not fall as he read the poem.

"It's cheesy, but I could tell he tried, I suppose I should just read it.

'I feel so on top of the world, and happy,

When I think of you day and night,

And when I see you, I see stars,

I love you more than words can say.'" Lovino let out a choked sob. "This intens-" Lovino couldn't continue, falling to his knees as loud, heartbroken sobs emitted from him. He leant his hands on the ground for support, large tear drops dripping into puddles on the ground.

Lovino was picked up from the floor, strong but feminine arms around his waist. Isabel held him close, letting Lovino sob loudly into her blouse as she walked him from the alter. Feliciano rushed over, taking his older brother from the woman.

"Take him outside, he just needs a minute."

"Lovi, do you want someone else to finish your speech?"

Lovino shook his head, taking a deep breath. "Can I finish?"

"Of course."

Lovino wiped his face, ignoring the stares of the people in the pews around him. He held his head high as he waked back to the alter.

"I'm sorry about that moment of weakness, I'll continue now.

'This intense happiness is all I could ask for, my love,

And for you, Lovino, I thank the heavens above.

All my love, Antonio.' Disgusting, right?" Lovino joked, his breath hitching as he tried his hardest not to break down again. "At the end of the day, Antonio was special. He was the only person I have ever known that could light up the room with a single smile.

Yes, it's true, he died far too soon, but I want to believe he's happy." Lovino licked his lips, head bent down. "I want everyone to remember Antonio for his pure happiness, I want everyone here to think only think about how great Antonio was. He will sorely be missed by all. Thank you all for listening, and for being here today. Antonio would be really pleased to see just how many people cared for him. Thank you." Lovino gathered his papers, and stepped down. Antonio's mother was waiting from him, her arms spread. Lovino fell into them, tears falling from his cheeks once again.

"He would be so proud of you, Lovino. Thank you, that was beautiful."

"Thank you."

Lovino lay back on his bed, eyes scanning over the note Antonio had left primarily for him.

Lovino,

I'm sorry. I know you need me, I know you need someone to confide in, but I can't do this anymore. I'm unhappy, Lovino. I'm so sad all the time, it overwhelms me. It's gotten to the point where I can't even remember what I felt like to be happy.

I wish I could talk to you about it, but I can't burden you with this. You have legitimate reasons to be sad, or angry, but I don't. I just am. I can't even begin to describe how I'm feeling to myself, let alone to anyone else.

I beg of you, please, don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. I can promise you that, if anything, you're the only thing that's kept me going for this long.

Be happy, Lovi. Move on, meet someone new, have a life. Get married, have kids. A family. Like you've always wanted, a big one. Lots of kids, but make sure you tell them stories of the great Antonio. Don't forget me, but don't be hung up on me either.

It seems silly, writing this, knowing when you read it I won't be around anymore. Perhaps you'll hate me now, perhaps you'll rip this letter up and move on no problem. Because seriously? Who wants to acknowledge their boyfriend committed suicide for being sad over nothing? Still, I hope you at least read it once.

I want to thank you, Lovino. I want to thank you for the last twelve years of my life, but mostly the past three. I want to thank you for being you, and not walking away when I got too annoying.

You should know, I'm happy now. I feel at ease. Like finally I'm going to be okay again. Maybe it's selfish, leaving you alone there. I'm sorry about that. Seems you're a lot stronger than I am.

I love you, Lovino. I love you so much. I left you something, it's in my top drawer, there's also a box of keepsakes in my wardrobe. I want you to have them all, they're all from memories of us anyway. Can you look after my mother for me? I know dad and André are capable, but she always did have a soft spot for you, please don't stop visiting her just because I'm gone.

Again, I love you.

Lots of love,

Antonio.

"Bastard," he muttered, placing the note beside him and running his fingers over the silver cross around his neck. It had been Antonio's favourite.

"Lovino?" Romeo called from outside the door.

"Come in, fratellino."

"Are you coming down for dinner? Grandpa made your favourite."

"I'll be down in a second."

Lovino threw his legs over the side of the bed, he refiled through the mess on his floor, smiling slightly when his fingers found the picture he was looking for. He shook the glass from the smashed picture frame off as he lifted it to eye level. He grinned at the picture, Antonio's arm wrapped tightly around Lovino, his grin so big Lovino was surprised it hadn't hurt.

"I'll miss you, bastard." He ran his fingers over Antonio's face. "I really hope you found the peace you were looking for."

Lovino could almost swear he could hear Antonio calling his name, soft and sweet. He pushed the silly thoughts away, got up from his bed and headed out of the room. He wasn't crazy though, for the picture he'd place gently on his duvet moved, soft fingers running over it lightly. Antonio would never really be gone, not as long as Lovino was alive, for he lived inside of the teenager, forever bound to him.

"I found peace, Lovino," Antonio whispered, fading back into nothingness.

A/N: That ending was out of nowhere. Seriously, I never planned Antonio's ghost to be with his (well, I didn't really plan any of this tbh) Like my other stories, this just didn't go where I wanted it too. It was supposed to be sadder, more heart wrenching, but my angst/sad writing is deteriorating with all the damn fluff I've been writing recently.