I Hate This
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or its characters.
A/N:…It's all my fault! I read too many angst stories, and I was crying, over practically nothing. But combined with good writing, angst, and songs that trigger the wrong emotion in me, I am not ashamed. Now, this story is just to vent the depressed feelings inside of me.
Enjoy. (Or not.)
Slashes left scars, as the liquid dripped from them. Swelling on smooth skin, ruined by their tragedy, and Lovino only peered at them in mild distaste. He hated how they looked on his arms, his skin; his used to be smooth skin was now riddled with scars from previous sessions.
He could feel God's eyes watching him, judging him, hating what he did. Comparing him to his cute little brother, Feliciano, who would never commit self harm. And maybe that's why Romano did it, not to ease the pain of life, not to spill his blood. He did it to make sure he wasn't like his little brother, so people could tell them apart.
Such a stupid reason, he thought, but his hand moved themselves, his grip tightening on the small pocketknife that was stained a dark red. Bracing himself for the initial sting, he closed his eyes, his mouth parting open in slight shock at the pain.
Finally sick of it, he threw the pocketknife as far away as he could throw. Breathing heavily, Lovino peered at his work. Disgust was on his face, and he wondered if he should hurry up and clean up. People would be disgusted at Lovino, the terrible older brother of cute little Feliciano, who never cursed, never called people mean names.
Attempting to stand up, Lovino faltered. Falling onto his side, his elbow propping him from hitting the floor harshly, a rush of dizziness over took him. He felt sick, and the world spun, and he let himself fall completely on the floor. Breathing heavy, Lovino stared into the wall, into nothing. Maybe he over did it…
His hand drifted upward, gripping the rosary through his shirt. Lovino could feel his heart beat slowing down, a ringing appearing in his ears. A bitter end for someone like Lovino, but perhaps it was for the better. He hated how he always compared himself to his little brother, he hated the forming scars that are killing him, inside and out, he hated how people would judge him now.
"..Odio…questo…" Lovino felt too tired to hate anything else, other than the fact that he was dying.
I hate this.
Review, Favori-…You know what? I'm too lazy
-BMTM
