There are times in your life when you just know you've met that one person you are destined to be with for the rest of your life. Sometimes, it comes as a surprise and you would have never guessed that person would ever be the one, and sometimes, you have a feeling, you're just never fully sure until that moment. It happens to everyone, whether they do something about it or not.
Lovino Vargas just never expected it to happen to him like it did.
Here he was, a junior in high school with hardly any friends and no girlfriend. It had always been like this for him, ever since he was in elementary school. Now, from the outside, it may have seemed like he was okay. Sure, people picked on him, pretty much despised him, and would do anything to be mean right back, since Lovino didn't exactly have the nicest personality. Even then, he would just act like the people around him were annoying bugs he couldn't get rid of for any reason.
But on the inside, pain and hurt clawed and ripped at his heart and soul, until it was hardly there at all. Lovino never showed compassion or friendliness, even to his brother, Feliciano. He would snap at anyone who would even simply say 'hello' to him, because in his mind, they were just like every other person who had ever wronged him.
Taunts and insults flew at him on a daily basis like flocks of wild geese heading south for the winter, and half the time, he was told to be like that annoying, happy, perfect, Feliciano. His brother was good at everything. He could paint, draw, sculpt, make just about anything he wanted, and it would be absolutely perfect. His cooking was superb, and everyone was always asking him for help making something. The worst of all had to be that Feliciano was always happy. Always. He was friends with everyone, and everyone fucking loved him to death. It was disgusting.
Did Lovino love his brother? Well, of course he did...but not near as much as he used to. Sometimes, he really just wished that he could drive a knife straight through that empty head and throw him in a lake or something, just so he would never have to see or hear him again. Of course, then people would probably cry and be all depressed about it and Lovino would never heard the end of it.
No...Lovino just took out his anger in other ways. He would take lighters and hold them to his arm until the skin was red and blistered from the constant heat. He'd take pins and needles and jam hundreds of them into the already damaged flesh and leave them over night, plucking them all out painfully in the morning as he was getting ready. But his favorite was the words.
You see, words hurt. Everyone knows that. Lovino really wished words would leave a mark when said, just so people could see how much they hurt. Since they don't, he just had to make the marks himself. Things like bastard, idiot, jerk, and a multitude of other things were scrawled in scars along his arms, legs, and torso. On his left arm, the phrase,'Be more like Feliciano' was written down the fore arm, cuts once so deep, nasty scars left in their wake. It was placed there so Lovino could see it often, but be able to cover it up. Even he knew he was cruel, and really should be nicer.
If only he had a reason to be happy.
~o~o~o~o~o~
"Hey fratello~! Do you want to hang out with me and Ludwig today~?"
Lovino dragged his feet and shoved his hand's in his pockets, desperately trying to avoid his brother who was following diligently behind him. The younger of the two was skipping and smiling brightly, just like every other fucking day and it made the eldest sick.
"No! I've told you I never want to fucking hang out with you two! Ever!" Lovino turned his head around and snapped viciously at his brother, quickening his pace leaving his brother behind with a confused look on his face.
Ludwig was Feliciano's annoying ass boyfriend. He was this big German guy with this cold blue eyes and just kind of seemed...bored with everything. While he was never mean, Lovino just never liked him. Probably because he was related that albino with the big ego who never ceased to leave the Italian brother's alone. Him and that perverted French bastard would always sneak up on Lovino in the worst of times, and the latter sometimes feared they would rape him or something...they sure seemed like the type to do it.
"Hola Lovi~!"
And then there was this guy.
Antonio Carriedo, senior, and the third man to the perverted trio. Along with the albino and sex-oriented man, Antonio was also there to partake in their...annoying activities. Honestly, he wasn't as bad as the other two, but he was still annoying as fuck. First off, he was like Feliciano and never stopped smiling. Second, he never seemed to want to leave Lovino alone...plus, he kept calling him that stupid nickname.
"My name's not Lovi, bastard. Get it right." The brunette glared, his dark eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. Oh, could this day get any worse.
"Aw, don't be so mean, Lovi! Can't you ever be nicer?"
"No."
"Even for me~?" The Spaniard gave him a pouty look, which was completely cute...on a child, of course. It was just absolutely ridiculous for a senior to be doing.
"Especially not for you." Lovino rolled his eyes and started walking away, really wanting to just go home and lock himself in his room. That place was basically Heaven. No one to bother him, no one to tell him anything. Just a place for him to actuallythink.
"Aren't you nice to anyone? What about your brother? He's nice to you, but I always see you yelling at him..."
"Yeah, well, ever think he deserves it? Maybe you do too. Try using that brain of yours every once in a while. Maybe then you'll get it."
Lovino stomped off promptly, not wanting to here Antonio's reply. It was pretty mean, what he said, but he was pissed. He was sick of everyone telling him to be nice. It was like, trying to tell him to be a whole different person. This just wasn't something someone could change by telling him to. People were idiots.
~o~o~
Cruel.
That was the word now etched deeply into the top of Lovino's shoulder. He hadn't really meant to do it...it just sort of...happened. He was locked in his room, like he had planned to do, and was laying on his bed, thinking- I'm such a fucking jerk. Who the hell would even want to be friends with me.- when he just started feeling worse and worse and worse until he had walked into his bathroom, stripped off his shirt and took a razor blade to his shoulder. After cleaning up the blood, he felt even worse about himself.
This was just low. Cutting words deep into his skin in hopes it will make his life better. He knew it was stupid. Everyone did, that's why people tend to laugh at 'cutting' or what ever the fuck people wanted to call it. Hell, Lovino even laughed at it himself.
Just disgusting.
He should just end his life. Kill himself right then in there. In fact, Lovino had a notebook tucked under his pillow containing multiple ways to kill himself. Really, it originally was just there because he liked to see how many things he could come up with, but lately...it was becoming a distinct possibility that he would actually carry out one of these. He probably would, too.
What was so wrong about that?
~o~o~o~o~o~
The next day wasn't any different from the day before.
Lovino had gotten up and gotten ready quickly. When he arrived downstairs, Feliciano greeted him brightly with a breakfast he'd made. The eldest had eaten it, and told his brother it tasted fine, making the Italian smile from ear to ear. That had been a lie, though. All food tasted like sand in Lovino's mouth anymore, bland and tasteless. He had no need for it anymore.
Then it had been on to classes. The first three were always boring and uneventful, but then all ones after that were bitter, because Lovino was constantly pestered by either A]Gilbert, B]Francis, C] Alfred F. Jones, or D]His brother. Everyday after school he felt like tearing out his hair in a fit of rage an irritation, but he usually just walked along the campus with a bored expression, hiding all true feelings deep inside that shell he called a body.
However, it was after school that the day took a different turn, because Antonio showed up in front of him when walking, making him stop in his tracks. The shorter Italian had blinked curiously at the obstruction in his way, and was starting to push past when an arm grabbed his shoulder [the one with cruel now carved into it] causing him to wince slightly.
"Hey, Lovi! Just wait a second. I wanted to ask you something."
Lovino sighed, then glared at him angrily. Just what could this guy want now?
"Fine. Get on with it."
The Italian watched carefully as he saw Antonio's face redden a little bit, and the male avert his emerald gaze to the side. What's with him? He couldn't help but think. Probably was something stupid.
"Lovino..."He started, surprising the other by using his actual name, "I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me."
...What.
Did Antonio seriously just ask him out...him, who was another guy. This wasn't good. Lovino felt heat creep up his neck and to his face. Now all these thoughts were running in his mind like-Who put him up to this?; Is he mentally insane?; Well, he is really hot...; and Am I fucking moron!
These thoughts were all a possibility [Plus the one fact] but Lovino didn't dare open his mouth. Who knows what kind of embarrassing words would spill out of his mouth. He just kind of, stared at Antonio, who stared back as well. Amber struck jade, and Antonio was the only who dared speak.
"W-well?"
Immediately Lovino decided if he was to go out with Antonio, it would be bad...and that was for the other. He reacted quickly...and badly.
"No! Why would I ever want to go out with you!" He yanked away from the Spaniard, wincing once more but trying to ignore that stinging under his shirt, and bolted away.
Maybe now that stupid idiot would learn to be smart and ignore him. It would be for the best.
~o~o~o~o~o~
The next day wasn't any better. Any free time Lovino had was snatched away by that annoying bastard Antonio as he attempted to get Lovino to at least hang out with him.
"Lovi~! Are you busy today~?"
"Yes! Go away!"
"Hey, Lovi! Do you want to do something after school?"
"No, bastard! I said this already!"
"Loviii~! If you're busy today how about we do something tomorrow!"
"I've said no like, so many fucking times already! Get it through your fucking skull that I don't want to hang out with you!"
Despite all the 'no's and rejections, even as the week came to a close and the weekend began, Lovino was still pestered by the annoying Spaniard. He actually even got Lovino's cell number from Feliciano and was texting him.
[If you ever don't have anything to do this weekend, feel free to come to me~! :3]
Man, he just wouldn't stop, would he?
~o~o~o~o~o~
As Saturday morning crept up and shone across the sky, one person was extremely unhappy. And yes, that person was Lovino.
As soon as he woke up, he had immediately ran to the bathroom and profoundly threw up, feeling more miserable then he had in a long time. His whole body ached, his throat felt raw, his nose just didn't want to clear, and a migraine pounded in his brain worse than any other he had, not to mention he would throw up every hour or so.
Man, this fucking sucked.
Feliciano was supposed to be going over to Ludwig's for the day, but when he saw his sick brother, he couldn't help but start to make a fuss. "Fratello! You look awful!"
"Tch. 'anks fer noticin'" Lovino grumbled out, his words all stuffy sounding because of his nose.
"Do you want me to stay home today to take care of you? I'm sure Ludwig would understand."
"No...I fine...jus' go..." Feliciano's voice would have probably made the sick Italian feel worse. It wasn't like Feliciano's voice was a bad thing. It just was so high pitched and superfluous that the headache in Lovino's head would surely split open after a time span of an hour or so.
"Okay...Well, call me if you need me, okay~?"
"Yeah, yeah. Jus ge' oudda here."
Feliciano gave his brother one last bright smile before bounding out the door.
At least it would be quiet.
Lovino settled himself on their plush couch and flicked through the channel's aimlessly. He really didn't want to get up unless he had to [aka-to throw up], and this spot was now exceedingly comfortable. Heck, this couch was now more comfortable than it had been in like, forever. Way more comfortable then that rock hard thing he called a bed. Yes, this couch was just like a cloud.
Bzzzt!
A groan escaped Lovino's mouth as he heard his phone go off. God damn! Who the fuck would be texting him now? The agitated boy had a pretty damn good guess.
[Hola Lovi!]
Damn. He guess to good.
[What the fuck do you want bastard?] [To see how you were doing of course! Feliciano said you were sick, and I felt bad ;~;] [I was wondering if maybe you would like some company! I know you said you didn't want to hang out, but his is more of a purpose to make sure you feel okay...is that okay?]
Lovino just sort of stared at his phone. Antonio was offering to come over? Really? Even though Lovino had bitched him out so many fucking times just yesterday? Really? Honestly? It was so fucking confusing...But Lovino did have to admit, he really hated being alone when he was sick...he just hated Feliciano babying him and shit when he was sick.
[Yeah, fine, whatever.] [Really! Yay~! 3 I'll be over in a bout 30 minutes~]
Thirty minutes?
Lovino could live through that.
~30 minutes later...like, exactly~
"Oh wow, Lovi! You really don't look good!"
Antonio had just walked into Lovino's house [Lovino texted that he wasn't getting up to let him in] to see the sick Italian sitting in a ball on the couch, a huge comforter wrapped tightly around him. He couldn't help but role his eyes at the comment.
"Well done, cap'n obvious." His nose was still stuffed up terrible, despite the cold medicine he had take earlier. It was torture and embarrassing to sound like this. God, how he hated being sick with a burning passion.
"Is there anything you want me to do for you?"
"I fine..."
Antonio had sat down next to Lovino and looked at him carefully. It was an intense look that made Lovino squirm a bit under it. Did this guy blink or something? Like, ever? He just averted his gaze back to the television [some dumb ass cooking show] hoping the other would stop looking at him.
Well...he stopped looking.
Lovino felt himself blush as Antonio pressed his lips lightly against Lovino's forehead, testing for a fever. Can't this guy be normal or something and use his hand! This was utterly embarrassing, and the sick male was probably redder then a fucking fire truck or something. Man...just his fucking luck.
"Lovi, have you taken anything to reduce this fever? You're really burning up, and look, your face is all red because of it!" The Spaniard lightly poked at Lovino's face, resulting in the latter slapping his hand away.
"No duh. A'course I hab. I no'an idiod like you." Antonio sure wasn't the brightest if he thought Lovino's face was red from the fever.
A warm smile and a tight hug was what the Italian received, protests muffled by Antonio's shoulder. "Lme go!" He tried to worm his way free, but even then he was so exhausted he just sort of gave up. He could deal with this, and Antonio was really warm, and Lovino was freezing despite the heavy sweatpants and long sleeve shirt [naturally. Like he would let Feliciano see his arms]
"Lovi~! You're so dang cute!" Antonio had pulled him down so Lovino was now laying on top of the o. ther, using the Spaniard's chest as a pillow.
"Shu'up...dumb basard.." Lovino mumbled sleepily. If the couch was a cloud, then Antonio was like fucking a cloud times two. It was just more comfortable laying with him then it was by himself...Don't you fucking get used to this, Lovino! If anything ever happened between you two...just, no! The voice inside Lovino's head screamed violently at him, telling him no, and more no, but Lovino was too damn tired to care.
"Go ahead and sleep, mi querido, it'll make you feel better." Antonio was stroking Lovino's hair lightly, and the younger was slowly being lulled into sleep.
It can't hurt to sleep for a few minutes, can it?
~o~o~o~o~o~
Well, the next thing Lovino knew was that minutes turned into hours and when he woke up, it was night, his headache was about to make his brain explode, and Antonio was no where in the room.
"Gah, fucking hell." Although his sinuses had cleared, his head hurt worse than anything. He didn't even think it was physically possible for this to get any fucking worse. He stuck his head in his hands and let out a stream of curses, most in Italian, but a few English favorites tossed in here every now and then. It was then that Antonio came back into the room, a look of worry on his face, splashed with a hint of amusement.
"Do you want some aspirin, Lovi~?" Being amazingly prepared, Antonio held out a couple of aspirin and a glass of water. It was like he knew this was coming or something.
"Yeah..."
Lovino quickly took the aspirin, but not with out dropping the half empty glass when he was done, getting his shirt all wet.
"Shit! Fucking god damn-" And so on and so forth. Antonio chuckled a bit, then reached out and tugged at the hem of Lovino's shirt.
"Alright, take it off. We should get you a different shirt."
Oh no. Lovino did not want Antonio seeing all those scars and burns and just...god awful stuff that he had done to his body. The Spaniard would probably think so much less of him and just start ignoring him and treating him badly like all others.
"No."
"Come on, Lovi! If you stay in a wet shirt then you won't get any better!"
"I don't care!"
"Come on!"
"No!"
Antonio had to practically leap on Lovino and peel the shirt off of him. He was lucky Lovino was sick and out of energy, otherwise the younger would have crushed his skull.
All Lovino could do was panic, mentally screaming Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! over and over as if that would stop the fact that Antonio was now still moving, hardly breathing and staring with wide jade eyes at Lovino.
"Yeah, I know. Not a pretty sight."
He was expecting Antonio to just leave or something, but he felt a hand trail lightly across the scars on his chest, shoulders. The touch was light and trailing, and the skin he touched burned hotly. Finally he trailed down the one long phrase on his arm. The Italian crossed his arms and looked away, ashamed and embarrassed again, furious that someone had finally managed to see.
"Lovino...just...why?" Antonio sounded extremely upset as he pulled on the Lovino's shoulder, making him look in his direction. The junior just sort of stared at the other, not knowing what to say. Tears stung at the corner of his eyes, and soon he felt one trickle down his face.
"Why? Because everyone hates me, that's why. I take out all my frustration on people, then I feel like a fucking jerk and take out the new frustration on myself, because I fucking deserve it. I really honestly don't fucking have anything else better to do with my body, now do I? It's pretty much just a useless shell. I'm not good for anything, and I never will be. I'll never be as fucking important as someone like Feliciano, so why should I even fucking try? No one cares, no one ever has, and no one ever will."
He was crying profusely now. Tears streamed down his face like a waterfall, and he just angrily glared at his hands. He's probably just going to leave now...
But he didn't. Antonio actually had pulled Lovino into a bone crushing hug, a hand gripping in Lovino's hair.
"Please...please don't say that Lovi. I don't think I can stand it." The voice whispered pleadingly into Lovino's ear, and it cracked like Antonio was crying himself. "You are important Lovi. You're not worthless, you aren't mean, a jerk, a bastard, what ever you want to call yourself. And people do care, Lovi. You just have to look for them, because Lovi, Feliciano cares about you. You know he does."
"Tch, yeah, so what? He's my brother, of course he cares." The bitter tears kept on flowing as Lovino bit his lip, then was surprised when Antonio shoved him back, holding him tightly by the shoulders and staring at him deeply, tears dotting his own eyes.
"Lovino, not just him. I care. If something were to happen to you, I'd think I'd die. I honestly do love you, Lovino."
What? He...he...loves me?
Lovino just stared at him, an unbelieving expression taking over his features. This guy...really did know how to pull at his heart strings, didn't he? That was because in a quick movement, Lovino had whipped his arms around Antonio's neck and locked their lips together tightly, salty tears mingling, but for more of a good reason.
The other responded almost immediately, pressing back with as much force and tightening his arms around Lovino's small body.
As they kissed, Lovino couldn't help but have many thoughts pass through his brain, but one stuck out from the rest of them all.
I guess there is always someone out there who cares.
