He wonders what else is out there, sometimes.
Beyond the amethyst curls of twilight smudged across the sky; past ozone and oxygen and atmosphere.
And no, he doesn't mean aliens - yeah, those are probably out there too, and that's great and all, but not his current summit of interest. He means...well. The universe. Just in general.
This generation has gotten it down to a science: hydrogen, helium, plasma; star clusters and nebulae and solar flares. All the typical sort of stuff that students pore over textbooks to brand their memories with.
Earth is like...Earth is like a hundredth of a quark on an atom compared to the gaping whole of space. Probably less.
You can't possibly tell him that the human race knows all there is to know about the universe.
And he isn't exactly a cosmologist, all right? In fact, he's supposed to be being productive right now - instead, Antonio sits on the powdery sand and watches the horizon consume the rounded tip of the sun - but he's firm in his belief and will stand by it until (impossibly) proven wrong.
A streak of light is smeared across the sky and disappears as quickly as it had come. Antonio smiles to himself and wonders if twenty-five is too old to embed his wish on the already-dissipated comet.
He eventually comes to the conclusion that it isn't.
An auburn-haired young man with energy seeping from the very pores of his skin points to a record cover, milk chocolate irises glittering as he glances at his brother. "This one," he says, finger skimming over the title. "I like this one."
"Lola Lovina?" another one asks, his physicality nearly identical to the formerly mentioned supernova of enthusiasm, save for darker hair, greener eyes, and taller stature. He grimaces, unimpressed. "Feliciano, no. I don't even need a goddamn name. It's not like I'm going to be making myself really well known while I'm down here."
It doesn't look like Feliciano has even heard him. "I mean, Lolo doesn't have a very nice ring to it at all, but Lovina kind of does...Except, it sounds kind of feminine, doesn't it? And you're not a girl, are you! So...um...hm..."
The elder sighs and crosses his arms. "Feliciano. This isn't necessary. Your name isn't necessary."
"Ohh, don't be like that! It's fun to have something to call yourself on visits!" Feliciano's brow furrows, his eyes glazed over in thought until a burst of revelation ruptures it. "Lovino!" he says, loud enough to turn some heads. "How does that sound, Brother?"
Feliciano's brother winces at the use of the word 'visits' and shrugs a little; scratches the back of his neck. "If you like it, then sure, why the hell not."
"Mm, great! Are we ready to leave, then?"
I've been ready to leave since we first got here. "Yeah. Let's go."
Feliciano smiles, takes...Lovino by the wrist, and tugs him out the door into the street.
"Next up," he says, "we'll find you somewhere to stay."
"Is it necessary?" Lovino asks, and Feliciano nods firmly.
"Believe me when I say that it's hard to find anything to do with yourself when you don't even have anywhere to live!"
Lovino isn't convinced, but he follows his brother down the street and past candy-colored buildings.
Feliciano is murmuring to himself, silently evaluating every apartment or hotel he comes across, as if only the top of the top could ever possibly think of accommodating his brother.
Which, again:
Not. Necessary.
Lovino just wants to get these six months over with and get the fuck out of here.
He doesn't like it. He doesn't like the feeling of air on corporeal skin. He doesn't like the noise or the color or his dampened senses.
He feels supersaturated; one more day, and just watch, his hydrogen-laced guts are going to spill out all over the ruddy earth under his feet.
And Feliciano? He likes it. He likes the feeling of being tamed lightning in a bottle.
Lovino has long since stopped trying to figure him out.
The air is thick with the stench of salt, and this doesn't lessen the more they walk towards the edge of Portofino: a colorful seaside town with water and scenery and basically everything Feliciano likes and everything Lovino doesn't.
(Not that he has a huge reservoir of comparison, but when he said he liked Italy the best he had meant somewhere like Rome. Leave it to a blend of fate and Feliciano to flick him into this hellhole of a village.)
"Oh...maybe we'll get you a beachside rental house, yes?" Feliciano is saying, and Lovino doesn't have the energy to argue that no, that's what Feliciano would like. So instead he doesn't reply and continues to follow Feliciano's lead.
Feliciano eventually drops Lovino's hand, apparently trusting that he won't run off and attempt to sacrifice himself to the sky. Lovino does follow, but he lags behind, his vitality levels low as hell. He's only been here for a day, all right? He's a little overwhelmed. And Feliciano was going to leave later, and...fuck, he'd be alone for a period of time that he didn't even understand. How long was a month? Multiply that by six?
He preoccupies himself by wallowing in self-pity and stress and confusion; and, thus, he hardly even notices when he collides with a man, who stumbles back a little and bends down to pick up the paper he had dropped as a result.
"I'm so sorry about that," he's saying, in a butchered version of what Lovino and Feliciano had been speaking to each other thus far.
Lovino blinks and steps back, eyes widening fractionally. He wasn't prepared for this. Feliciano had told him he wouldn't have to interact with any of them.
Paralysis consumes him like flame, and he feels a sharp flare of some unnamed emotion in his chest. He isn't familiar with the feelings this body is supposed to experience in the slightest, but based on what his brother has told him he thinks it's somewhere along the lines of 'panic.'
Unsure of what else to do, Lovino turns on his heel and briskly starts off in the other direction.
It's to no avail.
The guy shouts after him ("Please, wait!") and, based on the sound of high-frequency footsteps, the person is running after him.
Lovino stands up straight, takes a deep breath, and turns around, almost barging into the stranger a second time.
The person looks up, meets Lovino's eyes, and his breath hitches in his throat a little. He quickly coughs into his fist, runs a hand awkwardly through his hair, and seems to regain himself from whatever episode he had just had with a "Sorry again, but I think you dropped your...um...Ngh, how do you say -"
He remembers Feliciano telling him something about most people speaking English if the one they're speaking now fails, so he switches to it and finds himself saying, "You don't have to speak Italian if you're clearly awful at it," before he can stop himself.
Wonderful. Sink yourself deeper into a situation that already belongs in the eighth circle of Hell.
The young man sighs in relief and holds up a watch. "I think you dropped this," he says in accented English that's slightly different from the lilt Lovino has in his own voice.
"That isn't mine," Lovino replies tersely.
"Oh? But it was right on the ground -"
"Not mine," he repeats. He doesn't have anything but the clothes on his back. And, you know, an entire tempest of concentrated stellar energy writhing inside of him.
The man looks down at the watch confusedly, like it's an alien object. "Well," he says, "I guess I'll just go put it where I found it. In case its owner comes looking for it."
Lovino nods, a marginal tilt of his head, and begins to shuffle past the stranger in pursuit of his brother.
He hears his name being called and sees Feliciano confusedly stumbling through the streets, clearly looking for him. Lovino huffs a laugh and waves at him, to which Feliciano lights up like a comet and skips toward him.
"I thought I had lost you!" he laughs, scratching the back of his neck.
"Not lost," Lovino replies, tossing a look over his shoulder at olive skin and chocolate hair. The first human he had ever communicated with. Give him a goddamn award.
It takes them a (very long) while, but eventually they find a hotel that Lovino didn't really want but was tired of weaving through the city to look for.
Feliciano dishes him the ungodly amount of money he'll need to stay here for six months - Lovino doesn't know where he got it from and doesn't particularly want to ask - gets him checked into a room, and bites his lip a little as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet.
Lovino ignores him, and goes to stand by the window.
When tension begins to thicken until Lovino's choking on it, he sighs and says, "Is there something you wanted to say, Feliciano?"
Feliciano's moved on to nervously swaying back and forth, and he shrugs as he casts his line of sight towards his shoes.
"I...Oh, Lovino...You'll take care of yourself, right?"
Lovino turns around, the disgust clear on his face. "There's nothing to take care of," he sneers. "I'll be fine. Just. Leave."
Finally, Feliciano's restraint crumbles. He rushes forward and flings his arms around Lovino like they're an iron trap, sniffling into the side of his neck.
"Let go," Lovino says, but brings up a hand to rest on Feliciano's shoulder.
"I'll miss you," Feliciano sniffs.
"Yeah, yeah."
His brother steps back and wipes at his eyes; they aren't even supposed to be able to cry. "It isn't so bad, Lovino, really. Hey, maybe you'll be like me and find that you really like it!"
"Yeah right," Lovino snorts.
Feliciano's lips twitch downward. "But even if you hate it...It's only six months. Six months, and then they'll let you come back home. And I know you can't really understand the time here yet, but trust me, it's a super short amount of time."
"Mhmm. Just go, Feliciano."
"I...Okay. Okay, Lovino. See you in...see you in six months. I can hear Grandpa yelling at me; I've already taken too long in getting you situated."
Feliciano gives him one last weak, loving smile and steps out the door.
And he's alone again
hey hey thanks for reading B)
i'm...kind of slow with updating, but i got out of school for the summer yesterday, so hopefully that'll speed things along! i will finish this though, so never worry.
and psst you know the drill, writers take a lot of motivation out of reviews