A/N - Let's see if I can make this work. Please enjoy!
"Wanderlust," his brother said.
The way he said it was with such grand realization, and he gestured his hands wildly. The sunlight glinted off of him.
"What?" Lovino responded.
Feli laughed.
Lovino watched as his brother started to twirl the straw of his strawberry smoothie in a dazed sort of way, with his pencil in the other hand and pushed against his cheek. The wind rustled the papers he was working with.
"A great desire to travel and rove about, I think that's you - well, what you, I suppose, have."
"Wanderlust?" Lovino repeated. "What makes you say that?"
Feli gave him a knowing look, again with the smile and the eyes. His voice was soft yet accusing as he spoke. "Lovi, you watch the taxies. We can hear the trains from the office, no matter how faint. Your lockscreen on your phone is, what - a picture of Prague's nightlife? And you should see how jealous you look when people announce they're going to, oh, I don't know, England, or something. Admit it, you wouldn't mind watching pretty ladies winning poker halfway around the world if it meant leaving New York City behind for good."
It was Lovino's turn to give his brother a look, one that said: Is that so? "Oh, why not?" he decided to give in, though what his brother claimed was only partially true and Lovino only agreed to please him. He rolled his eyes and set his cheek in the palm of his hand.
A moment of silence.
"Well, wouldn't you?" Lovino muttered.
And Feli agreed with a "Why not?" of his own, his gentle laughter tacked on and making Lovino grin slightly, grin crookedly.
Lovino drank from his coffee, the smooth burn of the drink beginning to fade as the last sip hit his tongue. His eyes darted from the café door across the patio to the calm city street beside them.
Wanderlust, hm?
He listened to his brother sharpening his Prismacolor pencil, the Lilac one, and he suddenly felt heavy and trapped as lace appeared on that sketch of a dress. The traffic didn't seem as loud and that bothered him.
But then he had to wonder, was it really that obvious?
Lovino breathed a sigh as he closed up his presentation.
There was the applause and he accepted his strips of sample fabric back from his coworkers. He unplugged his laptop, the image of his last slide disappearing. He felt heavy, in the sort of way he was at the café, but with tiredness and lingering stress.
More companies.
More models.
More clothes to create.
Feli appeared and shook him by the shoulders. He could have dropped the laptop that he had unplugged, but he didn't. He could have glared, but he didn't, no, not really. Feli laughed again.
He frowned.
Now for the party.
Maybe he kind of liked the gentle hum of the champagne.
Maybe he kind of liked the harsh glare of the lights.
The tiled floor danced beneath his neat shoes, and Lovino stood alone away from the crowd with a thin glass in a nail-bitten hand. His black suit burned a hole in the beige walls of an expensive house he did not want to live in.
He felt small and pushed aside, felt like he had been left behind in a place not built for him.
Emma was wonderful, and she called him in for a dance within the flashing lights at some point in the night.
They were best friends dancing, and she saw that tired look in his eyes.
1:42.
"Get some sleep," she murmured. Her kiss was gentle and on his cheek. It was bubblegum pink and alcoholic and maybe Lovino kind of liked the way it burned against his skin. "you look like hell."
1:43.
His drink disappeared down her throat and she laughed. She pushed him past the lights and the cigarette smoke to the faraway staircase.
Sleep didn't really come easy to him that night.
He'd only slept for an hour or two, bathed in jaded moonlight.
Well, probably.
There was the dress.
Dark and revealing.
Lovino couldn't wait to go home and sleep. He set the measuring tape around his shoulders instead.
Lunch at the café.
Was his gaze wandering?
Wanderlust ran in his bloodstream and he couldn't breathe.
All he had asked for was a little vacation.
Switching New York City for Philadelphia sounded rather nice.
"No."
"Tha- No? Why not?"
The business was hitting him hard in places that it hadn't before. All of the wrong places. He told his grandfather that he couldn't focus on measuring curvy waists with the traffic right there, echoing several stories below him.
Stuck in the study of their breathtaking hell of a mansion, Lovino had felt the books on the shelves glare at him from behind. Grandpa maybe didn't understand, but he had proposed thinking it over with the dimmed lighting twinkling in his old eyes.
Lovino's heart hammered in his chest, fluttering free but caged.
"How the hell can you stand it?" he'd later hissed at Feli, who laid frustrated on the living room floor amongst scattered, pitched designs and broken Prismacolors.
Feli only laughed.
The blankets were tangled around his legs. Lovino's fingertips stung from strumming strings. Experimenting. Testing. He muttered the words under his breath in dozing whispers.
Lovino didn't know when he fell asleep with his violin on the floor and his guitar beside him, and crumbled up notebook paper all around him.
His hands were stained with pencil lead.
The designs of clothes were forgotten under his bed.
It was all so tiring.
"Have you considered my vacation?"
"I'll think about it when we're done showcasing the recent line, alright?"
… No, you won't.
Lovino shoved a few shirts into the dufflebag.
A fight.
No vacation.
He shoved in some more clothing, and then got the messenger bag that contained his sketchbooks for the company that was slouched on the chair for his desk. The traffic was wailing outside his window. Faint but echoing. He dumped the things out on his bed, frowning at the clinks and thudding, replacing them with what he would need.
Notebooks, but filled with beautiful lyrics.
Money.
He pondered on his cell phone, but then he could easily be reached. Easily be found. Lovino knew he could always buy another one, no matter how cheap, no matter how expensive.
He placed the two bags by the door, and fell asleep in the filtered moonlight on the mess on his bed. Lovino had his phone set for one last alarm, quiet enough that Grandpa and Feli wouldn't be woken up to witness his departure.
Waking up was sudden, and before the alarm went off. He changed clothes. Was quick and quiet to gather snacks and bottled water and fit them into the dufflebag.
Over the shoulder went his messenger bag, and then the guitar case. With the dufflebag and violin case clenched tightly in one hand, he opened the front door to that hellish house.
"Just for the summer," he whispered, inhaling that burst of chilled air.
Without looking back, he disappeared into the night.
Two Weeks Later
Lovino squinted into the horizon, his grin slight at such a grand contrast between the ground he waited upon and the sky he couldn't hide from.
There hadn't been any cars since he had first left the lone twenty-four-seven diner. He had fallen asleep in one of the booths in the back, reluctantly, because the waitress with the flower in her hair insisted.
He had graced her with a peck to the back of her hand as well as a wave he didn't look back to.
Despite it no longer being that cool-aired morning, there was still the burn of Coca Cola on his tongue.
Now he stood along the gray road, eyeing hopefully for a car to come along but he didn't mind much either if one didn't.
So he walked in a sort of tumble, hesitant on the occasional glance behind him.
At last, a car came buzzing through, but it kicked up dirt and sand in its wake. Didn't stop when Lovino threw out a hand.
He frowned, but shrugged it off soon enough. There would always be another car.
Lovino walked for a bit more, and was frantic to throw his hand out again at the humming coming from behind him.
The last one hadn't stopped for some kid on the side of road in dusty Converse, ripped jeans, and a faded rock band T-shirt, with two black cases he didn't look willing to leave behind. Was this one going to? Yes.
A Jeep was speeding towards him, and Lovino grinned as it slowed to a stop in the direction he was headed for.
He jogged the distance between him and his possible ticket out of the state he was currently stuck in.
The man driving looked to be the same age as him, and grinned too at Lovino's appearance, from his sunburnt cheeks to the markings slapped onto his worn shoes in Sharpie. Lovino kind of liked how his green eyes flashed.
"What's your name?" he was asked.
He ran a hand threw his hair. "Lovino. Yours?"
Another grin. "Antonio."