WARNING! ONLY FOR MATURE ADIENCES! DON'T LIKE IT? DON'T READ LOVE YOU!

Chapter two: Scared as hell.

So much for fucking happy endings.

Lovino screamed bloody murder as Alfred hit him harshly across his face. "What the hell was that this morning?!" Alfred demanded as he hit Lovino again. "Why the hell did you stand in front of him? Were you trying to save him? Ha! Love if I want him I will have him! I don't give a shit about your feelings!" Alfred shouted. Lovino was silent for a moment as he regained his courage and looked back up at his abuser. "Don't. Fucking. Touch. Him." He hissed and spit on Alfred. Alfred glared down at the teen and picked him up by his collar, "What if I touch you instead? He won't save you. He can't save you. Don't you see doll? You're stuck with me forever, and if you leave I will only find you again. You can never ever get away!" A childish smirk played with Alfred's features as he kissed Lovino roughly. "And," he hissed quietly once he pulled away from the squirming teen. "If he ever hears about this, I will kill your little boy toy." After thinking for just a moment Alfred giggled. "Why would he want someone as fucking useless as you anyway? You are nothing. You aren't attractive, you sure as hell aren't nice. So why would he want you? He probably doesn't. He would like Feliciano much better wouldn't he?" Alfred's words stung like a bee. Dammit, why did Lovino tell Alfred about his brother when they first met? He didn't know anymore, it didn't matter. Alfred was right. Who the hell in their right mind would want him? Want to be around him?

"Feliciano would be loved and adored by the little Spanish teen," Alfred continued. "Showered with love and affection like always, right Lovino? Antonio would kiss him and cuddle him while you're here, Antonio would laugh if you ever told him you liked him. You would be rejected, just like every other time." Alfred laughed and dropped the teen. "Well Lovino, this was fun. I'll see you tomorrow morning~!"

xXx

Lovino cried softly and slid down the bathroom's wall. He was trying to clean his new cuts from Alfred and cool down, but so far it wasn't working. Lovino knew Alfred was right. He had to be right, Lovino meant nothing to anyone. If he died no one would know but Alfred, and maybe Antonio but Antonio wouldn't care, he could find someone else. He could die. Lovino could escape this hell hole that substituted for a life. He could meet his grandpa in hell. Lovino sobbed at the thought of his grandpa, his grandpa always love Feliciano, he showered the damn kid with all the love he had while Lovino just sat and watched them draw or paint. Lovino always loved his grandpa but the feelings were never ever shared. Which hurt Lovino more the old bastard would ever know. Grandma used to love Lovino more then Feliciano, Grandma used to cook with Lovino and tell him no matter what Grandpa said that Lovino was the best, that no matter what anyone said Lovino was amazing. But then when Lovino turned 8 Grandma died and left Lovino alone with people who hated him.

"Dammit!" Lovino shrieked up at the ceiling. "Why the hell would you leave me here all by myself?!" he demanded the thin air. "Why?! It's all your damn fault! I loved you!" his tears felt like they were drowning him. "You made me feel ok! Like I could make it! Grandma! I can't make it! I never could make it! I was born to die!" Lovino sniffled and buried his hands in his hands. "Why? Why can't I be Feli? Why can't someone love me?"

Lovino bit his lip harshly and stood up, he searched the drawer under the sink for a few seconds before pulling out a small razor. He hadn't cut in at least one month but the pain in his chest wasn't something he could endure anymore. He felt so numb without that feeling the razor, he bled to make sure he was still alive. It felt good to know that no matter what as long as he could still cut himself and bleed he was still alive. Lovino lowered the razor to his wrist and frowned remembering when he was seven and his grandmother caught him cutting himself in the bathroom…

"Lovino? Lovino!" Grandma screamed when she opened the door to find her grandson in the bath tub, blood filling the water around, his tear stained face tearing her heart into pieces.

She ran to her grand-baby, crying now herself. "No, no, no…" Lovino stared at his grandmother sadly. "I'm sorry, mama… I couldn't take it…" he frowned down at his cuts. Mama picked him up and cradled him close to her chest. "No baby, your skin isn't paper don't cut it, your face isn't a mask don't cover it, your life isn't a move don't end it." She whispered.

Lovino cut once across his wrist.

Once for mama,

He cut again.

Once for papa,

Another cut.

Once for Feliciano,

Two cuts.

Two for Antonio, how dare he make me feel loved,

One more.

And one for Alfie… so he knows how hard I try.

Lovino watched the red substance travel down to his elbow and drip onto the floor. The words perfect flashed in his mind. Perfect. Perfect. Death is perfection. The one time he can be himself, in death. In life he was nobody, he had to pretend. But in death, in death he could be who ever the hell he wanted. He stared at the blood and began to cry again. Alfred and Feliciano had taken everything from him. Everything and now? Now he was just a pile of insecurities and a mess of dried blood. Life was never going to get better. And to make it worse, he could only remember his favorite quote to calm him down.

For who could ever love a beast?

xXx