SO I wrote this a while back and posted it on AO3, and i always kept telling myself I would post it here, but i never did, so here it is!
I hope it's easy to tell the difference between the italics that's for emphasis and the italics that represents the actual conversation.
Italics-Lovino
Bold-Gilbert
Hurtful Words and Cigarette Burns
You have to stop. The voice echoed in his head, playing over and over like a broken record. His grip tightened around the small, cardboard box.
Your habits are disgusting and I care too much for your health to let you continue. Silver hair brushed his forehead before being swooped up and tugged at by strong, malicious grip, cigarettes, box and all, long forgotten.
I can change.
Prove it!
A broken sob escaped his lips. It had to have been the third time in an hour that he'd broken down. Three times in which he wanted nothing more than to drown his worries, and fears, and inhibitions behind grey smoke. His body craved the harmful substance, but his mind craved to be with his Italian.
It had been a cruel past couple of days. His lips had been deprived of both a harmful cylinder and his toxic boyfriend. He had been going insane, but he had to stop. It was all for him.
At that point he didn't care about his health; he had been smoking since he turned fourteen, almost ten years. What he wanted was Lovino, his Lovino. The man that had been with him through thick and thin in the roughest patch of his lifetime and Gilbert was determined to keep him in it.
His body rocked back and forth, a long breath escaped his lips, his hair was tugged at once again, the tears ceased to stop. He wanted him. He needed him.
He swallowed thickly, pulled his fingers from his hair, and dug into his pocket. He needed to hear him. He just had to.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Ciao, this is Lovino Vargas. I think you mean Beilschmidt. –Shut it, bastard! You know what to do after the stupid beep.
He couldn't. He ended the call before the infamous beep was heard and flung the phone across the room. He had to see him. That's what he had to do. He had to prove to Lovino that he had changed, even if it was just three stupid days he had gone without smoking. It was progress. Exceptional progress compared to his hourly doings.
He wiped the tears – both angry and sad – from his cheeks and pushed himself up.
. . .
"Just the one?" The cashier asked, eyebrow quirked up as he tucked a strand of blond hair behind his ear.
Gilbert nodded, stuffing his hands in his pocket and avoiding the blue gaze. "Just the one."
"Okay, that's a strange request. Why not the bouquet" He could feel the blush crawling up his cheeks. Lovino had never been much of a flowers guy, so he didn't see the need to buy all twelve.
An angry, shorter looking male appeared behind the cashier and whacked him. "Francis, don't be rude. It's a wonder we have any customers with that mouth of yours." Francis rolled his eyes, muttered something along the lines of you weren't complaining last night, and left to fetch a single red rose from the back. "Sorry about him. That frog doesn't quite know when to shut up."
Gilbert shrugged, a vague look of indifference in his features. When Francis returned with the rose, he paid and left them to their own devices, which involved arguing over something Gilbert really didn't want to be listening to.
. . .
I'm leaving!
You can't. I-I'll change! I'll stop. Just please. Please, don't!
You said that already. Come find me when it's over.
He brought his hand up to the door, glaring quizzically as it quietly creaked, allowing a small peak of the inside. Lovino, no! He furrowed his eyebrows, and lay his palm on the door to gently push it open.
"How strange," he muttered, eyes dancing around the seemingly abandoned apartment. Lovino would never leave his door unlocked… unless he told Feliciano to do it. Maybe he was over as well. Just the thought was enough to put a skip in his step as followed the faint glow of the television to his boyfriend's bedroom.
For a second, one long, agonizing second, his heart shattered into a billion fragments. Then, it all washed away, mirroring the angry tears that flowed from his eyes, and the moment of heartbreak faded into a state of enragement.
The previous thoughts that haunted him were replaced by the moans and sounds of pleasure Lovino was emitting because of someone who wasn't him. He swallowed thickly, his fist finding the wall in a moment of silent frustration. Hazel eyes met his, silently cursing and begging for forgiveness as an entanglement of tanned limbs and blankets rolled off the bed spluttering Spanish curses the whole way down.
Gilbert, please.
At that point he didn't care if that was from right then and there or from their argument. He just had to leave. He threw the rose and box of cigarettes roughly onto the carpeted floors and left. Not caring about the dozen of meaningless apologies that filled the broken air behind him.
. . .
A blond eyebrow completed the quizzical look on the shop owner's face, "Hey, Gil, haven't seen you in a few days, do you–"
Without a word, or so much as a glance, Gilbert slapped seven crumpled ones onto the counter. Alfred, the shop-owner, blinked, but reached behind him for a pack of the Prussian's favorite cigarettes. He nodded, not bothering to get the change pushed toward him, and left.
His fingers shook as they ripped open the pack, disregarding the plastic in the nearest garbage can, and fumbled around his pocket for his lighter. The only thing in his life that hadn't failed him.
He pressed the cylinder to his lips, and watched as all of his anger and heartache flowed from his system in the form of dark puffs of smoke. He let a fake smile falter on his face; no use in denying the world of his most honest feature.
Gilbert sighed, each step building up the wall he tried so hard to keep knocked down.
He had never felt so numb.
You told me you were leaving because I smoke cigarettes.
I stopped smoking in fear of losing you forever.
I went by your place to tell you I broke my bad habit.
I saw you pressing your lips against someone new.
My walk home was lonely and the only thing pressed to my lips was a cigarette.
I guess it's time to break my bad habit.
You.
Notes:Don't hate me too much! I came across a picture that said those words, I can't find it anywhere, but I just HAD too! This took an hour