AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This is based off of the manga Ten Count by Takarai Rihito.
Sadly, I didn't think they portrayed OCD accurately and I didn't like how the plot progressed... But I loved story idea, so I'm rewriting it the way I thought it should have turned out.
(I'm mostly just rewriting this for myself because I want to.)
I DECIDED TO MAKE THIS SPAMANO BECAUSE WHY NOT.
**Contains strong language because Romano. May be triggering for sufferers of OCD. Mention of blood and open wounds. Mild violence.
This is a fairly short chapter, as it is sort of an introduction to the story. I hope you enjoy it!
Feel free to correct and spelling, grammar, or translation mistakes. I would love feedback on this story, as well. Thank you for reading!
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There was the loud sound of screeching brakes, and suddenly Lovino Vargas had an airbag in his face. He sucked in a large gulp of air, frantically pushing it down as his mind tried to process what had just happened.
"Lo siento mucho, señor!" said a voice outside of his window. Lovino rubbed his sore neck, cursing as he turned to see a face staring at him through his window.
"Che cazzo!" Lovino yelped, jumping in his seat. The man outside stepped away from the car apologetically.
Lovino took a few deep breaths before unbuckling himself and exiting the car. He moved to check the damage, and groaned at what he saw. The bumper of his Fiat was practically fully detatched, and his license plate was completely smashed. It was a wonder he didn't have any serious injuries as far as he knew.
"What the fuck? You destroyed my car!" Lovino shouted.
"Lo siento mucho, señor. Are you hurt?" asked the man. He seemed to be in his late twenties. The man was tall and tan, with deep green eyes much like Lovino's and curly, chocolate-colored hair. The only injury he could see was a cut over his eyebrow, but he looked otherwise unscathed.
"I'm fine, shut up," Lovino hissed with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Let me give you my contact information," said the man. Lovino groaned. His head was pounding, and he felt slightly dizzy.
"Aquí." The green-eyed man handed him a card.
Lovino flinched, retracting his hand as quickly as if he'd burnt it. He didn't mean to—it was just a reflex.
"S—Shit," Lovino stuttered, straightening his tie. The man furrowed his eyebrows.
"Do you have *Mysophobia?" he asked.
"Do I—what?"
"Do you have Mysophobia? It seems like a fairly severe case, so you should see a doctor about it," he said.
Lovino paused, trying not to lose his temper. "Why would you think that?" he asked brusquely.
"You flinched when I tried to hand you my card, and you're wearing gloves. There's blood seeping through the fabric, so I assume your hands are rubbed raw from washing them incessantly," the man explained.
Lovino swallowed hard, his mouth set in a firm line. "Why is that any of your business, ya bastard? I'm fine this way. Fuck off," he snapped. He was suddenly very defensive, as he felt extremely violated. But, the green-eyed male smiled, holding up a tissue he had retrieved from a plastic packet in his satchel. He reached into his pocket, pinching the card between his fingers and the tissue.
"There," he said gently, handing it to Lovino again. "Mira, I didn't touch it with my bare skin." Give me a call if you ever need any help with anything at all."
Lovino snatched it from him with a shaky hand.
Antonio Fernández Carriedo LCSW
(***)-***-****
"Um, thank you... Mr. Carriedo," said Lovino.
He touched it. He still touched it. He touched the tissue, which touched the card. My hands itch. It's stuck to my skin. I need to wash my hands. I need to get it off.
"Just Antonio is fine. I hope you'll consider my offer, señor." Antonio grinned, and Lovino felt his heart skip a beat. Stonato heart. He had a small scar on his bottom lip that stretched out when he smiled, Lovino noticed.
"Lovino."
"What?" Antonio inquired.
"It's—my name is Lovino. Lovino Vargas."
"Ah, is that Italian? I could tell by your accent. Pleasure to meet you, Lovino."
Lovino rolled his eyes and scoffed. The situation had become slightly awkward after a few moments of silence, so they bid their farewells while Lovino watched as Antonio drove off.
He picked up his phone and dialed the number to call a tow truck, but he couldn't get the image of that shocking smile out of his head.
It was seriously pissing him off.
*Mysophobia, also known as verminophobia, germophobia, germaphobia, bacillophobia and bacteriophobia, is a pathological fear of contamination and germs. The term was coined by Dr. William Alexander Hammond in 1879 when describing a case of obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) exhibited in repeatedly washing one's hands.
