It makes me really happy when you guys give me your speculations on why Antonio isn't dead, hahaha. A lot thought he was a vampire, and I thought that was really interesting! Burlesque Romantique was the closest to being right, though, haha! You guys will finally, after about a year of waiting, will find out why Antonio just won't die already.
And this chapter is really, really, unsatisfactory for me :C but here have it cause you guys have waited so long :CCC
Here's the bg info on our Spaniard!
Disclaimer: ladsjfsjfiouhyernaer
June, 1560
Gold, God, and Glory.
He strikes down the natives of the New World, he kills the women and children, and he takes what is rightfully his nation's, propelled by his King and God.
He has no regrets, and there is no thought of distraught or shame in his actions towards the people - barbarians - he enslaves and kills and steals from. His fingers close around his bloody halberd, swinging and slicing down those in his path.
Another native goes down. The other conquistadors cut down more and more and more peoplenativesbarbarians. Blood that isn't his splatters against his cheeks and clothes, and he relishes in the iron smell in the air. The green forest is slowly dyed red with every swing, every chop, every death.
And he continues on.
-x-
Here lies madness.
Forever lingers in his mind as he takes in his final breaths. Dirty, blood covered fingers scrabble against the leaf littered floor, trying to crawl ahead, trying to find purchase in the loose dirt. He looks up, and greasy locks of brown hair obscures his blurry vision.
Antonio breathes in a shuddering breath, and he can feel blood rattling in his lungs. He coughs, and his vision sways to the side. His mouth is dry and his head is spinning; he can see some of the almost-black tree trunks surrounding him in this God forsaken forest in the middle of the New World.
He doesn't know how long he has been here.
He doesn't remember how long it has been since they were ambushed.
All he knows is I am not dead and I will die.
Yet he crawls ahead, one painful arm reach at a time, searching, striving - looking for something that will be his salvation.
His throat hurts.
He sees the body of his captain ahead, face down and blood soaking into the dirt underneath. Antonio takes a long look, resting his arms as he feels a piece of him die as he examines the man he looked up to just hours ago. He continues on, feeling his muscles burn and pain - probably from the cut on his side - throb. Some more blood dribbles down the side of his face. He guesses that his cut on his side is leaving a bright red trail behind him.
I will not die.
He lifts his head and feels tall grass scratch his face. Mosquitoes flutter and buzz around him, and something smells distinctly of death. Maybe it's him. Ahead there is break in the forest, and bright, blinding, bleaching sunlight shines ahead. He crawls toward it. A bird chatters and mocks him in his struggle up above.
It's painful.
He finally reaches this spot untouched by trees, and lets out another rattling hack as sunshine washes over him. The light shines in his eyes and his vision blurs some more and dammit he isn't going to die. Not here. Not now.
He blinks, and feels faint. Too much blood has left his body, but he lets his eyes shut themselves, and tries to ignore the awful, biting sensation shoving knives inside his head. He crawls blindly now, too exhausted to even lift his head up as his arms continue to pull ahead. Why he tries to postpone the inevitable, he does not know.
Reach. Pull. Drag.
He repeats, and between a pull and a drag, he pauses. His hand has landed in something, something wet and cold and Antonio lifts his head up, green eyes dull. Before him is a simple rock formation - or what he perceives to be one, his vision has gone bad and he can't think clearly anymore - and water trickles down, clear and shining, into a small, shallow pond.
Some of the blood and dirt smeared on his hand washes off into the pond. Without thought, he pulls ahead and lets his face fall into the pond. The Spaniard drinks the water, and feels his throat burn cold. It still hurts, and now his lungs complain for air. He pulls his face up, and when he opens his eyes everything is made up of simple, blurry shapes and he suddenly needs more and more energy to just breathe in.
He is dying.
-x-
Spring, Present Day
"Good thing I can't die."
Lovino's face presses against Antonio's soft cotton shirt, breath shuddering as he tries to calm himself. His eyes feel puffy, but he knows they don't look it - his skin has gone cold and pale, ever since then. One of Antonio's large hands press against his back; the other, combs through his auburn hair.
"This is a dream," Lovino mutters bitterly, mouth opening and closing against his shirt. Antonio gives a mild smile.
"If this is a dream, then it's a very nice dream." The Spaniard said, pulling Lovino back to look at his face. His hand moves from his hair to his face, and his thumb rubs against his cheek. Lovino looks down, and back up. The sudden, steely look in his eyes surprises Antonio.
"This is a dream." He repeats. His throat is sore, and it comes out in a rasp. Antonio shakes his head.
"I'm sure," Antonio's eyebrows pull together slightly, "something as wonderful as this... could never be as fake as a dream."
"Then you would be dead now."
"But I'm not."
"You aren't." He agrees, mouth twisted down. Lovino tries pushing away, palms flat against Antonio's chest. He almost wants to pull his hands away, hide his hands, hide his touch, afraid that he could still kill Antonio. "Because this is a dream."
"This isn't a dream." Antonio says, pulling Lovino back, closer.
"Yes, yes it is."
"I'll prove it to you." Antonio's mouth was so close to Lovino's own. Lovino's breath came faster, and his eyes were glued to Antonio's deep green eyes. "Will you let me, Lovino?"
Lovino's mouth opens, then closes, mimicking that of a fish. Antonio's face presses closer, mouth whispering something. But, that doesn't matter. All that matters to Lovino was that Antonio was so close - he could feel the brush of the Spaniard's hot breath on his face. He refuses to blink, refuses to turn his gaze, eyes watering. "I..."
The taller man's eyes were half-lidded now, and he was so painfully close - Lovino snaps out of it and turns suddenly, and falls out of Antonio's lap. "Don't." He stands up, tipping to the side, and stares down at Antonio, unsure of whether he should run or stay. His breath still comes out fast, and dammit, he doesn't know why he feels as if he needs to breathe so hard when he doesn't need to breathe, and why did it feel like his heart thundering inside his chest - it hurt so damn much. Antonio scrambled up, tanned hand tenderly grasping for Lovino's.
"I'm sorry, Lovino." He apologizes in a breathy rush, and he tries to pull Lovino in closer again. The Italian tugs and tries to pull his arm back, tries to run away. His grip loosens.
Lovino finally pulls his hand back and stumbles back a few steps. "I'm sorry, Antonio," the words jumble out of his mouth, and he can't stop it. "I can't... I..." He tries to think of excuses, ways to flee and run and never see Antonio again, and why is he still so afraid?
"You can't what, Lovino?" Antonio asks, eyes lowered seriously, his voice deep and warm. Lovino wipes at his face with the back of his hand.
"I just..." He looks away, and doesn't take a step back. Antonio comes forward to wrap strong arms around his lithe body.
"Let me take care of you, Lovino." He says, and Lovino opens his mouth again, ready to spew and spit his pathetic excuses out.
"But... your job..."
"I don't have to work tomorrow."
"What about your house?"
"I don't need to be home. Not if you need me."
"I..." Lovino bit his lip; he wishes he could spill blood, but to no avail. "Please."
-x-
Lovino opens his front door, and he could feel Antonio's stare on the back of his head. The Italian's back is stiff. He walks in, and pauses in the foyer, pale arms slowly wrapping around his waist. He hears Antonio's footsteps behind him.
"It's a mess." Lovino says in a half apology.
"It's okay." He almost sees the small smile in Antonio's tone. Lovino makes his way to the living room. The furniture is old and a little dusty; cobwebs litter the corners of the room, and Lovino feels his face heat up, embarrassed by how dirty everything is.
"Looks like you haven't touched this room in ages," Antonio comments, further embarrassing Lovino.
"I do." The Italian mumbles as he walks into the middle of the room. "I usually just... sit."
"On the couch?" Antonio asks, and walks towards him. His hand glides against the couch's back, and lifts his hand to examine the dust collected on it. "I'll help you clean up."
"You don't have to." Lovino says, and hugs himself tighter. Antonio plops down onto the couch, sending dust flying into the air. He looks up, giving the Italian a small smile.
"Are you sure? That was an awful lot of dust." He wipes the dust off, and motions for Lovino to sit down. Lovino does, though puts a good few inches between them. He shifts, uncomfortable and awkward.
"I don't need you to take care of me." He answers quietly after a moment, staring down at his lap. Antonio relaxes, back pressed firmly against the couch. Lovino shifts again, and looks up at Antonio through thick lashes. "Are you hungry?"
"Maybe." Antonio says. He scoots closer to Lovino, and Lovino shifts farther away. "Are you?"
Lovino is quiet for a moment. "No." He looks down, and brushes some of his unkempt bangs to the side. "I don't eat much."
"You should eat more." Antonio says, eyes soft. Lovino tries not to scowl.
"I can't."
"What do you mean you can't?" The Spaniard asks. His hand itches to touch Lovino, put a hand on his shoulder, something.
"How come you can't die?" Lovino asks, and he hates how he sounds as he changes the subject. He looks away, and still, he wants to run - but he's in his own house, with Antonio. There really isn't anywhere else he would want to run and hide to. Antonio's eyebrows furrow, and the sides of his mouth almost grimace.
"It's not a good story."
"I don't have a happy story either."
Antonio shifts closer again, causing Lovino to move again - before he can, Antonio's arm shoots out, and he pulls him flush against his side. "Lovino." Antonio says, and he looks down at the Italian. "I just... I know you're different." Lovino doesn't try to pull away this time. In defeat, he rests his head on Antonio's shoulder, and closes his eyes.
Wearily, like that of an old man, he answers, "Yes." He turns his head and presses his face against his neck, in a startling intimate pose. "And you. You're different."
"Because I'm not dead?"
"Yes, you idiot." The Italian murmurs. After a while, he murmurs, "I am death."
Antonio's hand reaches up to press between Lovino's cold shoulders.
"My body doesn't seem to think so." Antonio muses, and closes his eyes too. He lets out a quiet laugh. "I don't think so either." Lovino feels safe with Antonio's arm around him, feels safe and trapped and maybe like one day all his secrets would be bare and seen by the Spaniard. It's scary, and he's always been a coward. He knows, that one day, he'll take his chance and run away. But not today.
"You don't get it." Lovino mumbled. "Everything I touch..."
"I do." Antonio says, cutting Lovino off. "And I can't die."
Lovino laughs hollowly. "What a pair."
really incomprehensive note to you guys: I feel like I ruined this story hahaha. Like, you wouldn't expect Lovino or Antonio to just spill their dark secrets ahaha I really screwed myself last year when I wrote the first chapter adfkajsfasdf I'm sorry maybe i'll fix this chapter up and put a really big bandaid on it but i hope you guys sort of like this it's been a year sorry guys I hope it doesn't take me another year to get the third chapter out ahhhhh
This was really hard to write hahaha, I hope you guys are happy. Ahhh this chapter was so weird guys... first Lovino breaks down then Antonio tries to take advantage of Lovino by kissing him and then he makes his way to his house and it all went down from there hahaha... adjkflafa there is no good developement happening sob but thank you for reviewing for last chapter /kisses you all mwah mwah
Again, I seriously feel like I fucked myself when I wrote that last chapter - I don't know how to make them interact with each other honestly, especially since I made them both kinda've tell/hint their deep dark secret akdjfeiweakddscmzdagdj you know what I don't fucking care anymore - no just kidding I do :P