Alright I know I haven't updated in awhile and I'm sorry. I have exams coming up next week so I will try to update within a week.
Walking down the street on a Friday afternoon, I take in the temporary the p near the Academy.
As I scan the crowds I notice a few of my students. Well, not my students technically. I'm the schools counsellor but they send kids to me for half their classes so in a way they are my students.
The Hetalia Academy for the gifted was one of the most reputable high schools in the province. The students were all grounded in their studies, although there were a few that slacked off, as was to be expected.
Laughing to myself I think about my less than savoury high school years. Slacking off and pranking fellow students with his closets and best friends, The Bad Touch Trio.
Speaking of my friends, I am supposed to meet them for dinner in an hour at the new restaurant that just opened last week. It was to be Gilbert's treat in honour of him actually holding a job for more than a year and an excuse to not spend another Friday night picking up some random person at a club.
They may never want to settle down in a solid relationship, but I only wanted one person and vowed to myself that I would keep looking until I found him.
The one whose golden hazel eyes haunt my dreams at night, the one that I made a promise to, the one who gave me my cross.
Sighing in resignation, I snap myself out of my fantasies of ever finding Lovino Vargas and spending the rest of my life with him. Over the past eighteen years, I have searched the town and the surrounding villages with no luck. With the passing of each year my chances of finding my little Lovi grow ever slimmer.
Just as I was turning to walk to my car a beautiful melody stops me. Turning I spot a solitary violinist playing the loneliest song I had ever heard.
As my first day in this new city I count the number of times I've gotten lost so far. Ten times, a new record yippy! I think to myself sarcastically, and it's all fucking Feliciano's and the Potato Bastard's fault.
My idiot younger brother had just convinced me to move into his apartment with him, and then decides to move in with his bastard boyfriend who has some stupid stereotypical sounding German name.
It's a good thing Matthew was looking for a roommate and someone to help in the diner he just opened.
Matthew Williams was one of the few people Lovino Vargas called friend, and was his oldest friend having known each other since they both transferred to the same school in grade eight.
Sighing to myself, I sit down under a tree in a nearby park; happy to have brought my violin. Before lifting the delicate wooden instrument out of its case, I brush my fingers over my most precious objects. A picture of my brother, grandfather, and I, a little hockey charm Matthew gave me, and a glass tomato.
I know that carrying around something so delicate could break it, but for some reason I can't bear to leave it at home. Just looking at that stupid trinket calms me down whenever I'm upset. The funny thing is I can't for the life of me remember who gave it to me.
Shaking my head I quickly tune my violin and let my fingers work their magic, letting myself get lost in the music.
As I play I close my eyes, letting memories flash before my eyelids. Images of a blurry figure with vivid green eyes and a bright smile flickers behind my eyes than disappears into my memory.
Loneliness fills me and my fingers become too heavy to continue playing. As I pack my violin into its case, I grasp onto the memories and try to picture the rest of the person's face. I feel as if this person is important to me. Maybe from the orphanage, or maybe-
"Hey, why are you packing up after only one song?" the voice startles me and I almost drop my case, almost.
"You can't just fucking sneak up on like that!" I yell, standing up to face the intruder.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you…" the words die in my mouth as I look up into the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. The eyes from my memories.
"I'm sorry I scared you, but you were playing so beautifully I didn't want to interrupt you." The man runs a hand through his brown curls, a nervous tick, how do I know that?
"Well next time just say excuse me, alright? Stupid bastard." I say as I start to walk way. Before I get too far the man catches my wrist and spins me around to face him.
"Are you by any chance Lovino Vargas? I'm Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. We used to live in the same orphanage; that's where you gave me this." He says lifting gold cross from under his shirt.
Suddenly I remember a little boy who looked like a younger Antonio, opening my case I pull out my glass tomato.
"You… gave me this, didn't you?" I ask hesitantly, my face flushing.
Antonio nods, his face breaking into the biggest smile that I have ever seen. Before I know it I am enveloped in a crushing hug and my face flushes even more.
"B…bastard get off me." I hiss as I push his chest. To my dismay he hugs me tighter, crushing my arms to his chest.
"Sorry, but I haven't seen you in so long…" Antonio reluctantly let me go and stepped back.
"So… you don't remember me, do you?" the question came out sounding like a plea, I
"No, I'm sorry." I answer
"Well, can we hang out some time? Catch up on the past few years, here's my number." He say's pulling out a piece of paper and scribbling on it, "text me when you're free okay?"
"Uhhh…sure, why not, persistent bastard," I mutter turning my face as I grab the slip of paper and tuck it into my pocket.
"Good, well I have to go now; I was supposed to meet my friends awhile ago. Bye Lovi!" the stupid smile on his face made my heart skip a beat.
"Yeah, yeah whateve-hey what the hell is a Lovi?" I shout as Antonio jogs away chuckling.
Checking my phone I start to head to my new apartment, which will be alone without someone to tackle you, I think as a mixture of loneliness and relief fight for dominance in my stomach. Letting the relief win, I smile slightly to myself. Matthew won't be home until late due to his meetings with to-be staff.
Upon entering the apartment, I begin to dig through the few boxes that haven't gotten around sorting yet. Pulling out a worn photo album I open it to the first page and find myself face to face with a younger version of Antonio.
Hmmm I guess I did know the guy. Maybe it would be a good thing to talk to Antonio about my time at the orphanage. I might just remember the rest of my past. Maybe.
You see, after going to live with my grandfather I fell from a tree. The fall made me lose all of my memories from before I was five and so far nothing has brought them back.
