"Feliciano!", His father called from the doorway, in a panicked, angry tone.
No... he was tired, beaten, but he would not turn back obediently as he always had. He used to be like a puppy. He was innocent, energetic, pure, trusting, and playful. What was he now? Angry, hurt, scared, violent, and desperate as if the owner had beaten the puppy that he was. This was the results of years of torture. He loved his father, enough so that he had dealt with this for a long time. His chestnut, almost auburn, hair was messy and dirty. It stuck to his face with sweat and blood. Scars were all over his body, a fresh wound on his cheek. His eyes were bleak, they barely showed the light-hearted innocence they once reflected. He had to break free from this.. this... torture. He ran as fast as he could, down the street, around the corner, running to who knew where. Just as long as it was anywhere but back there, with his captor, his father. He hid in an alley way about 2 blocks away from his house, hoping, praying his father would not find him. He needed to catch his breath. He leaned against a brick wall, exhausted. The alley was quiet. He slid slowly down the wall, putting his hands up to his face, covering it. What would become of him once his father caught him.

"Are you okay?"
Startled, Feliciano looked up with wide eyes. There was a boy about his age, maybe a year older, standing there, right in front of him. He looked straight into the boy's eyes. A deep ocean blue, with a lighter color underlining it, mesmerizing him.

"Are.. you.. okay?", the boy repeated, more slowly, probably shocked by the cuts now visible on Feliciano's face. Sunlight filtered through the alley way onto the boy in front of him. His light blonde hair seemed to glow as it reflected the sun.

Still shocked, he barely made a sound as he struggled to find how to reply. He did not know the answer himself. The boy looked bewildered at his appearance, his lack of words, as if he had never seen someone who looked as pained as Feliciano was now.

"Feliciano!" A scream of rage broke the silence of their stare.

"Hurry... come with me... that man... he is scary.", the boy held out his hand.
Feliciano was in a daze, the adrenaline still rushing to his head. Instinct took over and he grabbed this boy's hand. For now he would be safer with this stranger than with his own father. The boy dragged him down to the end of the alley way, where they entered a yard surrounded by a clean, white fence. The boy ushered Feliciano up a ladder into a tall, large, sturdy, tree and into what seemed to be a clubhouse of some sort.

The inside was pretty impressive. It was painted a light brown, the windowsill was a cream color, and curtains two shades darker than the color of wall were neatly pulled to its side. There was a dark wooden desk, cluttered with sketches and writing utensils right beside the window. In fact the whole place seemed to be filled with art supplies. A few cans of paint, water-color pencils, and fine brushes were held on a neat shelf along side some canvases and a sleeping bag stuck between the shelves and the wall. There was a stool in front of an easel, next to it a telescope. surrounding the place was a sort of tiny, wrap-around, deck. On the deck was a pulley system, so things could be easily transported to the clubhouse. The place was very cozy, as if it were a warm little cottage, only in a tree. It even had some pots and pans hung over a portable, electric counter stove-top. Feliciano backed into a corner, where he supported himself on a sturdy wall, panting. The boy was standing at the window, the palm of his hand pressed hard against the windowsill. An exasperated and concerned look on his face barely peeked through the opening before he sighed. His face was slightly red and he panted a little too. He turned to Feliciano, staring at him intensely. He was wearing a black sweatshirt, faded jeans and some shiny black boots. His blonde hair was well kempt and he had a serious look about him, especially for his young age. Feliciano stared back and suddenly realized how he must look in contrast, he was wearing a dark green t-shirt and tattered sweatpants, a white apron with a large bow in the back was hugging his waist. His hair was messy, his brown boots dirty, his faced caked with blood and sweat.
The other boy did not seem to notice this much though, and took a seat on a stool at the opposite side of the room. An intense atmosphere surrounded them. Although the other boy had caught his breath, he still had a slight pink on his cheeks. Was he... blushing?

"Do you know that man?"

Feliciano could not lie to the boy, "Yes, he's my father."
Silence... it was as if time itself had stopped outside of this clubhouse.

The blonde stared at him with such an intensity it was as if he were looking right through him. This went on for what seemed like an eternity. Then another wail of anguish sliced through the air, "Feliciano!"
He winced as he heard his name being called by his father. The other boy seemed to sense his fear and got up, slowly walking over to him, his hand held out.
Feliciano backed away from him subconsciously, his hands held close to his chest, he was shaking his head, "no". The other boy stopped, looking slightly hurt and confused. He still did not stop holding out his hand to Feliciano.

"I'm Roman.", the other boy said.

"Feliciano.", he whispered in reply as he took the other boy's hand.
He was starting to trust him, but did not move anymore from the corner.

"This is where I paint things and sketch. It's a sort of inspiration, I guess. Do you like painting?", Feliciano guessed the small talk was an attempt to calm him down, and relaxed.

"Yes, I can paint very well. My grandfather used to paint with me quite often..."

"I'm not so good at painting.", the boy said modestly "But I want to practice and learn as much as I can."

"I have a brother who is named Romano, who also paints. He only paints tomatoes though.", he started to smile, though he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He thought about his brother. What would happen to his dear brother if he did not return soon? The images passed through his head as he was struck by a horrible thought. He could not leave his brother.

Feliciano heard his father calling even more angrily now.

Roman looked at him with another intense gaze. His eyes soon softened but he looked concerned and distant in his own thoughts.
"You can stay up here a while, if you want."

"N..No. I should go back before it gets worse. Thank-you.", Feliciano started down the ladder.

"Wait.", Roman grabbed his hand, mid-air, as it was reaching down for another hold.

"Come back tomorrow. We will paint together."

"Tomorrow...", he stared into the blonde boy's shining blue eyes, his mouth slightly ajar. Something about this boy, something about him regenerated hope in his broken soul. It was warming and frightening at the same time. This boy led back the wonder of existing, the importance of being.
He smiled and let go of Roman's hand, and finished climbing down the ladder. Roman still looked out over to him from his kneeling position at the entrance of the clubhouse. Feliciano nodded in acknowledgement and waved to him as he walked away. Tomorrow... he had something to look forward too.


He walked slowly back through the alley way, the sunlight disappearing into the oblivion beyond his small town. How would he approach his father? He walked up to the large, sea-foam green house. He waited silently on the porch, fumbling with his thumbs. Lovino came out, a bruise under his left eye.

"Brother... I'm so sorry.", he said quietly.

"Feli.. I thought you were going to leave me. You stupid bastard... I thought you were leaving me!", he ran over to hug his younger brother.

"I couldn't ever leave you."

"You would be breaking your promise to mama."

"I know. But I came back, didn't I?"

"Feli... he's waiting for you inside. He'll only get angrier if you don't go now..", Lovino said, a sad look in his eyes.
But he did not feel scared. He felt strong. He remembered the boy's shining golden hair and his deep, hypnotizing, intense, blue, eyes. He remembered his mother, and the promise he had made kneeling at her bedside, suddenly wondering if this was really what she had wanted for them.

"Wish me luck, brother.", he said as he smiled, holding on to the door frame and looking back at his older brother.

Lovino gasped... "Feliciano... you're.. smi.. why are you smiling?", he stammered. Feliciano had not smiled this way in a long, long time.

"Because for once, I will be disappointed if I die."


I hope you like the story. Roman is HRE. I wasn't quite sure what to call him, since he does not have a human name. I figured that name would do since he's Shinsei Roma. I used Roman because it sounded less feminine. I thought it was really weird how all the people Feli cares for are named similarly though. I haven't really decided who his dad is yet either... Austria or someone else? His grandfather is obviously Roman Empire, but he's dead. Anyway thanks for reading. ~November