Dear whoever finds this,
I love him, I do. I really, truly do. But he doesn't love me. No, he loves that stupid German bastard. I hate him, I love him, I hate him. I don't know what to think, I don't know what to do. That stupid Spaniard confessed to me, I accepted to dull the pain. I think he knows, no. I know he knows. But he's okay with it, he's told me that it doesn't matter, but he didn't say what doesn't.

A week later, the stupid German bastard asked him out, not Antonio. Feliciano. I was so angry that I tore up everything in this stupid house. I ripped up all the poems I had for him that were lying on the table, I smashed my vases, tore my paintings. And then I cried. I cried my stupid, traitor heart out. Antonio came in sometime that day, and wordlessly put everything that he could back together. He taped the poems together, and glued my vases back together as best he could. The paintings were lost forever.

I've told myself I'm over him, I've managed to actually fall in love with Antonio. But that's a lie. I don't love Antonio, I'm not convinced I'm over him. I still love him, I still love Feliciano. I could never actually confess, as much as I want to.

Believe me, I've tried.

But every time the words unstick themselves from my throat, the German bastard walks in, or he talks about him, or something. So I gave up. I, instead, started to pretend that Antonio was Feliciano. I was careful never to say anything whenever we were doing anything intimate. I was so careful, until a bit ago.

Antonio just gave me a tiny, sad smile, and said it was okay. That he understood. I started crying after that. He held me, held me. Feliciano wouldn't do that, he'd be too busy with Ludwig. Why did I have to fall for someone like that? Why couldn't I have fallen for Antonio, who was perfect? What's wrong with me? I guess I'll just fade out. That way, I won't be there to yell at him, tell him how much I hate his boyfriend, I won't be hurting Antonio anymore.

You'll find me at the bottom of the ocean.

Sincerely,

Lovino Vargas

Dear whoever finds this,

I fell in love with the wrong person. I'm sure you're thinking that there is no such thing as falling in love with the wrong person, especially if you happen to be Francis. But I did. I didn't fall in love with him, the strong, strict, but kind person, Ludwig. I didn't fall in love with him at all.

But after I realized I fell for the wrong person, I pretended to. I told the one I truly love how happy I was, hoping he'd be happy too. I told him how much I loved Ludwig, even though every word was nothing more than a bitter, wretched lie.

I seem so happy on the outside, I bet you think I'm impossible to sadden. But the truth is, I'm completely depressed, I have been since Holy Rome left me. I had fallen for the wrong person then, too. It hurt when he never came back, even after he promised. But I grew up, I got over my love for him, I told myself I'd just never love again.

I tried so hard not to, too. I even made sure not to get too close to anyone, not to let anyone see the real me. Of course, my Fratellone was the exception to that rule. We're brothers, after all. We should truly know each other, since we are family. And that was my biggest mistake.

I fell in love with him.

Now you understand why I say that I chose the wrong person to love. Even Francis would agree, since he loves Antonio, not to mention we are brothers... But I fell. I fell hard. I hid it behind my happy face, slowly pretended to be getting happier, started getting closer to Germany.

Then Antonio and him started going out. I cried so much that night that it could have filled the sea. I was so broken that I called Ludwig. I told him everything, everything. He admitted that he loved me, and I suggested we go out for a bit, see how it works. We both pretended it was perfect, but I think that, even now, he knows that I still don't really love him.

But that doesn't matter anymore. Whoever you are that finds this, tell Ludwig that I said 'Gutten Nacht'. I'm going to go to sleep now, down by the river, in the willow tree.

Forever.

Sincerely,

Feliciano Vargas