tran•scend•ence
— n. Existence or experience beyond the normal or physical level.
Chapter II:
A-Antonio.
Lovino stiffened once his mind finally registered what was going on.
The Spaniard was crying— grieving, even.
He warily took a step forward, but it seemed like Antonio hadn't heard him. In fact, the latter paid no attention to the world around him (what's new?) as he knelt on the snowy ground, probably getting his jeans wet.
"Oi, bastardo," Lovino called out, frowning at seeing Toni like this. Seeing the Spaniard so vulnerable had awoken the feeling of fear and worry inside him. Antonio was never like this, no.
The Italian took several wide strides forward— nearly losing his balance at first—to span the distance between them and stopped right before the man currently hunched over on the ground. "Antonio!" He growled out, a little more insistently this time. "Th-this isn't fucking funny, Antonio! It never was! D-Dammit, look at me! Why the hell are you crying?!"
He reached out and grabbed the Spaniard's shoulder so he could turn Toni to face him… only he couldn't.
His hand went straight through.
X
Lovino was momentarily stunned and stepped back, tripping over his own feet and falling to the ground.
What the actual fuck?
"Toni, fucking look at me, dammit!" Lovino yelled out, his fear intensifying upon seeing the lack of reaction from the other.
D-Dio mio…
He reached up and reached for Antonio's shoulder again. His fingers slipped through the latter's body.
Was he hallucinating?
Lovino got onto his knees, right behind the Spaniard. He could practically feel the warmth radiating from him; smell the faint scent of tomatoes that always lingered on Antonio's clothes; feel his chocolate brown hair tickling the tip of his nose.
Toni was there.
Why wasn't Lovino?
"Look at me when I'm trying to talk to you, dammit!" Lovino yelled, right into the brunette's ear.
Nothing.
He threw a punch at him.
Nothing.
He stood up and tried to kick him.
Nothing.
Angry, frustrated and fearful tears brimmed the Italian's eyes as he heaved in and out. Finally, he seemed to take notice of his surroundings.
There were graves everywhere.
He was at a cemetery.
Lovino felt chills crawl up his spine, sending the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end as he hesitantly looked past the Spaniard and at the grave the latter was weeping in front of.
His heart sunk to the very bottom of his stomach.
"Here lies Lovino Romano Vargas,
A caring brother and a friend to many.
He will always be in our hearts.
I love you, fratello."
X
Oh God.
Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.
Lovino reread the words engraved on the grave over and over and over again, hazel eyes growing frantic and manic.
T-This… was just a terrible nightmare, dammit!
Why wasn't he waking up yet?!
Yet Lovino couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face as he thrashed around and tried to get the Spaniard to look at him.
"I'm not dead, you idiot! I'm not dead! Look at me, you fucking bastard, I'm right here! I'm not dead!"
And just like that, all of the once-forgotten memories hit him like a fucking train.
X
Lovino sank to the ground, clutching his head between his hands as he winced at the onslaught of memories seizing his head at rapid-fire.
Too much, oh Dio, it's too much, Ican'tthinkstraightanymore.
He writhed in pain, feeling like he was drowning.
He c-couldn't breathe.
He began to hack up water, yet it had no effect on the freshly fallen snow.
Worst of all, he remembered.
X
Lovino knocked back the bottle of wine in his hand with a loud, resounding clack. His hazel eyes drifted over the general direction of the door, the liquid confidence in his veins contorting the door to have several, blurry versions of it.
He sat up from the barstool, his head spinning, as he leant against the aged mahogany counter, waiting for his vision to steady a bit more before he stumbled out of the bar.
He wanted to forget. He wanted to stop thinking.
For a while.
For only a little bit.
For only tonight.
Forever.
He was just so, so very angry.
At Antonio.
At Feliciano.
And at himself— especially at himself.
Lovino stormed out of the bar, stumbling quite a number of times, before finally locating his red Fiat (stupid fucking car won't stay put, dammit) and leaning against it, his mind spinning in dizziness. He sunk down to the damp concrete, pulling out the new box of cigarettes he'd bought prior going into the bar, along with his lighter out of his back pocket.
Carefully, Lovino shook a cigarette out of the box and lit it up between his right index finger and middle finger, hands shaking. He then guided it to his soft lips and took a long drag, his face flushing a vibrant crimson from the aftereffects of drinking one too many glasses (bottles) of red wine.
He propped himself up on one knee so he could shove the box and the lighter back in. He'd stash it away later when he got back home.
Half-lidded hazel eyes fluttered close as he tilted his head upwards to the starry night sky with the cold winter wind numbing his bare fingers as well as it did his senses.
He wanted to forget…
The Italian shifted himself into a better sitting position, staying there until the cigarette had been completely consumed. He then stood up and momentarily lost his balance for several seconds before regaining his footing and fishing the car keys out of the pocket, blindly jamming the key into the door and clumsily feeling the car's cold, dusty surface until he'd located the keyhole.
Lovino clambered in the driver's seat, huffing innumerable expletives under his breath as he tried to find the stupid fucking ignition in the dark.
Moments of boiling rage and frustration bubbled beneath his veins as he fumbled around for the ignition.
Ah, there.
He finally fucking found it.
Lovino revved the engine, willing all of his worries and woes to fuck off as the alcohol coursed through his body. He would do this.
Heck, he'd even done it before, albeit tipsy; not inebriated.
He briefly considered the repercussions of driving drunk.
Then he remembered that he didn't give a shit.
…so he did.
X
Sixty… seventy-five… eighty… one hundred-ten… one hundred-twenty…
Pedal to the fucking metal, Lovino sped down the mostly empty highway like never before.
All he could hear was the continual crescendo and decrescendo of the engine revving. All he could feel was the blood running through his veins— his thrumming heart beating against his chest.
One hundred-sixty kilometers per fucking hour.
He was going fast, so, so fast, he was pushed against the driver's seat, the seatbelt beside him left forgotten since he had gotten in the car.
He felt elated; like he was flying.
Oh, yes… He was so close, this close to forgetting it all. But for how long?
For a while?
For only a little bit?
For only tonight?
Forever?
Before his drunken mind could even register it, his car began to hydroplane over a part of the road where the snow began to melt before solidifying into ice.
Out of instinct, the first thing he did was to jerk the steering wheel away.
Away where? He didn't know. All he knew was that he should avoid that section of the road at all costs.
He hit the fence bordering the edge of the road.
H-He… he should've just stopped there, right?
But he didn't.
He drove through the fence, venturing into the forest that sloped down-fucking-hill into God knows what.
Lovino was effectively sobering up due to the cruel reality of the situation. More than a few curses escaped his lips as he managed to maneuver past any trees that consumed his path, the rough terrain making the feat all the more astonishing.
Just as he thought that he would finally crash into a tree to end it all, he drove past the last one.
It only got so much worse.
X
His car whizzed past the trees and onto the frozen lake.
He successfully skidded to a halt, right in the middle of the ice.
Before the Italian even got to heave a sigh of relief at avoiding the hand of death, there was an audible, resounding crack that managed to reverberate through the confines of his car, echoing through his ears.
The ice was breaking.
He stilled, rigid in horror as his jaw dropped in shock.
M-Maybe if he could get out of the car now, he could escape and haul ass out of the lake!
Lovino put a hand on the doorhandle—
The ice broke.
—and the car suddenly fell into the water, the ice underneath it giving in.
A broken yell escaped his lips, holding onto the edges of his seat.
Oh God.
And before he knew it, the tires had lost their buoyancy. The car had begun sinking.
X
Lovino was frantic, looking past the foggy windows. He saw no ice. All he saw was dark, murky, icy cold lake water.
Fuck.
From then on, he just knew; he knew he wouldn't be making it out of the lake alive.
Dio, he didn't even know how to fucking swim.
He winced at the realization, fishing his phone out of his front pocket and staring at it for a second.
911?
They wouldn't get to him in time, dammit. A-And it's not like he could exactly tell them where he even was.
He couldn't even tell himself where the hell he was. Fuck.
And as if moving on their own accord, his fingers swiped through various screens before he pressed onto a name and immediately began to place the outgoing call.
He was calling Tomato Bastard.
X
…And of course the asshole would let a call as fucking crucial as this go straight to fucking voicemail.
"Hi! This is Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo~! Please leave a message after the beeeeep~!"
Beep.
Lovino stilled, contemplating what to say, before blurting out, "H-Hey, bastard— A-Antonio… I guess t-that this is goodbye."
'Goodbye'? Already? After I just said 'hey'? Seriously?
He cleared his throat and corrected himself, "T-This is Lovino b-by the way… b-but of course you a-already know that, bastard…" Hazel eyes glanced down at his feet and watched in silent horror as water started to seep in and pool at his feet. His sneakers were getting wet.
He was running out of time and fast.
"O-Okay! So. When I first m-met you, I thought that you were the biggest ignorant jackass on the face of the earth, and somehow, you kinda still are. Uh… Y-You were so fucking annoying then. A-And even now, you still manage to annoy the fuck out of me. So… yeah. When I first met you, you wouldn't leave me alone at all, dammit!"
He took another glance down at his feet. The water already came up to his ankles, numbing his feet, and this car was sinking fastfastfast and before long, he'd just be another body at the bottom of a lake. Lovino drew and released a shaky, shuddering breath, "O-Oh, God…"
The lump forming in the back of his throat grew bigger exponentially, his hazel eyes burning with a threatening onslaught of tears.
He was going to die, dammit! A-All because he was stupid enough to drive while intoxicated.
…And the truth was?
He meant to do it.
Drive while intoxicated, that is. H-He just wanted to do something reckless to stew in the boiling anger and hatred he had for himself and only for himself. A-And now he was paying for it with his life.
He knew the consequences and he accepted the terms and agreements himself. It was like he practically volunteered to die.
I better h-hurry the fuck up before I run out of time… Lovino grimly admitted.
And so, he began to speak.
"I thought that… that after a while, y-you'd finally g-give up on me like so many others did, just like the rest of them… but you didn't. A-And that meant a lot to me. A lot. Wh-Where people would shun me away because I was a rude and bitter little shit, you a-accepted me."
He breathed in sharply, the water slowly rising up and consuming his legs inch by inch. Dio mio. The car was starting to tilt downwards, the hood sinking first. Lovino angled himself and got into position to prepare to clamber over to the backseat if need be.
"Shit," he cursed under his breath, his gut wrenching in unvoiced panic. "A-Anyways, you didn't mind how I always called you a bastard or how I would always push you away… B-Because you knew I never meant it, right?"
A 45-degree shift in the car prompted Lovino to leap up from his seat and over to the one behind him. "Fuck! A-Antonio, you better get this fucking message, because i-if you don't I am going to be so pissed at you, you got that?! So, so very pissed, because if you don't, I-I'll kick your ass back all the way to fucking Barcelona! Or Madrid! Whatever! Dio mio, at the hour of my death and you still have me rambling. You stupid tomato bastard!"
Tears began to run down his face, the reality of the situation finally sinking onto his frazzled nerves and comfortably settling in the conscious of his mind. Na na na, the voices seemed to chant, mocking him over and over again.
"People would shun me out, but you were oh-so very nice to me, Antonio. A-And when we graduated from college together, it w-was then I realized that I had fucking feelings for you! And it scared me to death! You made me sure yet unsure about everything I ever knew! You were there for me, throughout all the bullshit I ever went through! N-Not once did you ever leave me. E-Even when Fe-Feliciano came along… Y-You still never left me…"
He pulled away from the cellphone to wipe away all the tears that freely ran down his face, down his flushed cheeks with clumsy, trembling hands. His labored heaving restrained him from breathing properly, but still, he pushed through. He had to keep going, one and for all. If not, he may (would) never find (have) another chance to, ever again.
"W-When Feliciano came along… He was like a fucking breath of fresh air, huh? Heh… A-As time passed, you and mio fratello began to become closer… obviously. We're like polar fucking opposites, mio fratellino and I. And I don't blame Feliciano f-for… fuck. I don't know. For taking you away— dammit! …I would say that Feliciano broke us apart, but you were never mine to begin with."
The water came up to his knees.
"It's not— it's not you or fratello's fault. It was solely my own. I-I'm second best. I know; I always have been… A-And I'm sorry for piling all of this shit on you. Truly, I am. W-Whatever happens after a-all this bullshit, don't— don't blame yourself for this, o-okay, bastard?"
The water came up to his thighs.
He was shivering now. Lovino propped his feet up on the edges of the passenger and driver's seats, standing up slightly. Still, he pressed onwards. "A-And I know you l-love Feliciano, so you better— you better fucking take good c-care of him, okay? Dammit…"
It hurt, truly.
To finally admit that you could never have the one person you wanted.
To finally confirm it to yourself and yourself only that you never stood a fucking chance.
To finally face the fact that the one you loved, loved another— and your own brother, at that.
It f-fucking hurts, dammit…
The car was sinking faster. More than half of it was already submerged in the unfathomable, icy deep.
"I just wished that you could've felt the same way for me. Y-You fucking tomato bastard. But I— I know that won't happen, and it never will. I've tried over and over again to be just like him. Just like Feliciano, but I just— I just couldn't. Okay? I thought that b-being more like Feli would make you— I don't even fucking know— return my feelings? B-But that just wasn't me anymore, and I c-couldn't live life trying to be someone else. I— This is who I am and no amount of denying it could ever change that. …Ti amo, bastardo. Ti amo. Mi dispiace. Mi dispiace tanto. Perdonami, mio amore; Antonio."
The water now rose up to his chest, constricting the airway to his lungs from the outside. He was s-shivering from the unbearable cold, his body going numb yet aching in agony from how cold his muscles, his limbs were becoming. Dio mi salvi.
"O-Oh, Dio." He pressed himself against the highest point of the car, his knees and thighs aching from being in a position neither sitting nor standing for so long in such unfavorable conditions. "Tell Feliciano t-that I love him too, dammit!"
Lovino's footing slipped due to the car tipping to an almost 90-degree angle and he promptly sank in the water, if only for a second. A taste of death. He thankfully regained his balance, an arm still raised up in the air— the one holding his cellphone— and shot up through the coldcoldcold waters that threatened to consume him very, very soon. The Italian coughed the water out of his lungs as quickly as possible so he could finally say his final farewell.
The water started to come up to his throat, rising up faster and faster.
The call was going to end shortly.
"J-Just know that I… I love you. I think I always have. And don't try to find me.
Because you won't.
…Goodbye, Antonio."
And it was at that point where Lovino finally gave up. His feet gave way and he sunk down to the bottom of the lake in his red Fiat. Hazel eyes stared blankly at the now dead phone floating in front of him.
Water filled his lungs and his vision began to fade into black. Darkness surrounded him, consumed him; it continually suffocated him for several more moments until his body stilled, drifting to the backseat of the fully submerged car as it hit the bottom of the lake.
The water, rippled from the disturbance, had stilled after a minute or so. It had left a deafening silence in its wake as the arms of unconsciousness warmly embraced the Italian; the tides were as they were before, as if it never happened.
The unfathomable, icy darkness that took him were very much like the ebb and flow of time.
It went on.
Lovino Romano Vargas was no longer among the living.
A/N: bastardo - bastard
Dio mio - oh my God
mio fratello - my brother
mio fratellino - my little brother
ti amo - I love you
mi dispiace - I'm sorry
mi dispiace tanto - I'm so sorry
perdonami - forgive me
mio amore - my love
Dio mi salvi - God save me
Thanks to SecretPrussianCitizen for the review!
~jellydonut16~
P.S. This is the saddest story I have ever written.