Once again, I'm sorry that it took this long to get this chapter translated. I hope the next one will be finished sooner.

LIFE UNDER THE SUN

Chapter 7

It took a few days before Lovino noticed that something was wrong. He and Bella had decided to enjoy their short time together to the best of their ability, which resulted in Lovino and Gilbert barely seeing each other anymore. Lovino now spent the time he had used to spend with Gilbert on the porch to drive to the village and do something with Bella. When he came back, he was usually so tired that he went straight to bed and didn't talk to Gilbert much.

That was fine with him. At least this way he didn't have to work so hard to hide his depression from Lovino. He distracted himself with his work – the house was soon free of all weeds, and all cracks and holes were filled so that Gilbert could soon start painting it. When that was taken care of, he borrowed Lovino's car and drove to Adamo in the village to learn gardening from him. Together, they bought seeds for beautiful climbing roses that would one day decorate the walls.

One evening, Lovino voiced his admiration for his work, and this small gesture was for a short while the high point of Gilbert's life. He couldn't help but wonder about it. Loneliness had him back in its iron grip, and Gilbert fell back to his old habit of talking himself into a good mood.

But when Lovino approached him with a frown one day, looking at a stack of papers in his hand, the game of hide and seek was over.

"Hey!"

"Hm?" Gilbert had just got out of bed, but he wasn't entirely awake yet, which was obvious – he hadn't shaved and looked rough around the edges, standing in the corridor and scratching himself absent-mindedly on the stomach as he waited for Lovino to tell him what was going on.

"I just got the phone bill…"

"Oh!" Gilbert blurted out, suppressing a yawn. "Have I been making too many calls to the city?"

Lovino was still frowning as he took another look at the papers and finally turned to look at him in confusion.

"No – the opposite. The bill isn't even half as big as last month."

Gilbert froze, hand stopping in mid-movement, and stared at Lovino like a caught animal.

"Has something happened? Now that I think about it, you've been acting all weird lately…"

"Nothing has happened!" Gilbert said at once and made his way past Lovino to go to the kitchen. "I'm just so popular lately that everyone has called me instead of the other way around. I mean, I'm always popular, but lately even more so – you probably didn't notice because you haven't been here, but I'm awesome!"

"Gilbert…" Lovino said with a sigh as he came to lean on the doorframe and watched with a doubtful expression how the German dug around the fridge in an attempt to hide his face from him. He wagged the piece of paper at him. "The bill also shows the numbers that have called us."

"…oh."

"You haven't talked with Eliza in two weeks. I may not be Sherlock Holmes, but I know what that means, okay?"

Gilbert stood frozen, his head still buried inside the fridge, and made no effort to react to Lovino's words. The Italian sighed once more before walking up to the other and pulling him away from the fridge. "I'm sorry that it didn't work out," he said softly. Gilbert usually resisted such treatment – he didn't want any pity and no artificial niceness, but he wasn't used to Lovino taking him into his arms like this. Even though he had been avoiding this exact situation for two weeks, he couldn't deny that it felt good.

"I'll live," he muttered after a while. It was clear that Lovino was out of practice when it came to comforting others because he kept patting him on the back somewhat painfully and murmured something that sounded like "There, there…" Gilbert retreated from the stiff hug, grabbed an orange from the kitchen counter and opened the door to go to the porch. The sun greeted him with warm rays. The floor on this side of the house was made of artistic stone slabs, which made every step painful against his bare feet. Lovino's voice made him stop for a moment.

"Where are you going?"

A shrug, a few steps further, and then Gilbert decided that Lovino didn't deserve to be left without an answer. "For a walk. Don't worry. I'll be back in a few hours. I just have to… think a little."

"At least put some shoes on!"

"It's okay. The pain is a distraction."

It felt good to leave Lovino with this line and walk across the yard to the small road. At the same time, he felt terrible about it. But as usual, he ignored his conscience, chose a random direction at the next crossroads and had soon lost the house from sight.

In the end, he wandered around the area for the entire morning. If the sun hadn't been high on the sky and told him the general time, he wouldn't have been able to guess if he had been walking for five minutes or five hours. His feet hurt terribly, and he could slowly feel new sunburn on his face.

The area was relatively sparse – the thin olive trees didn't offer him much shade from the sun, and everything else was dry grass and rubble. But not far away there were the ruins of an abandoned goat shelter standing out in the grass, and Gilbert climbed over a row of stones to make it there. He scratched his feet and legs at it, but he found a handful of straw that had been left behind and made himself comfortable.

At some point, his stomach began to growl. Gilbert ignored it, just as he had been doing for the past few days.

It was strange. The break-up had struck him much harder than he had been expecting. When he had come here, he hadn't been sure if he could even keep the relationship going – if there even was one. But something had changed over the past few months. Now that his life was so secluded, he had learned to appreciate the few friends he had. He poured his heart into every conversation and no longer wanted to sit at home with a laptop or a video game. He enjoyed talking to other people; it was no longer just politeness or a way to fill an uncomfortable silence. Out here, he had no social responsibilities. He could do whatever he wanted. But that was how he had found out that he needed other people, their friendship, their warmth, their love. And letting someone go hurt twice as much because there was nobody else who could take this person's place, fill the hole in his heart.

For a moment, he kept lying still in the straw and stared at the holes in the rotten wooden roof of the shelter. His thoughts kept circling in his head without taking a proper form. Nevertheless, they didn't stop tormenting him, not letting him sleep and burying him under painful memories and dark visions of future.

It was a new feeling. The old Gilbert wouldn't have become so carried away. The old Gilbert would have wandered through clubs for three days, got himself drunk with alcohol and drugs, would have slept with a different partner every night, and by the third day he wouldn't have known what he was trying to forget. The old Gilbert wouldn't even have let a relationship with a woman get so serious that he was imagining having children with her and getting a beautiful house in the countryside near the city and a brown retriever that slept in his bed until his wife said "Me or the dog!"

He missed the old Gilbert. He wanted nothing more than to get his light-heartedness back, his amazing ability to let nothing get to him. He wanted to close his heart from everything and escape into imaginary worlds. But he couldn't do that here because here he was no longer City-Gilbert; here he was the weak Country-Gilbert who took care of the garden, who wanted a real relationship and who couldn't be happy about the fact that his best friend had a hot woman because it meant he no longer had any time for him.

He remained lying for a few more minutes before forcing himself up and taking the orange out of his pocket to calm down his stomach.

After all this time, he came to a decision. There was only one way to escape this approaching depression.

He had to go back to the city.


When he stepped inside through the terrace door, it was already a late afternoon because it had taken him a while to find his way back after his directionless walk over the hills.

Lovino came to greet him from the kitchen and threw his hands up in the air when he saw him.

"There you are! I already thought you had turned into ash and been swept away by the wind!" he blabbered, and Gilbert could tell by his behaviour that he had been worried about him.

"I'm not a vampire…" he said lamely while Lovino checked the colour of his skin in the dim light of the house and slapped him weakly when he saw he was just as pale as before. Gilbert sulked as he rubbed his cheek and asked, "Why are you even here? Don't you have any plans with Bella?"

"I cancelled them."

"Oh? Why is that?"

Lovino frowned at him, and Gilbert wasn't really sure what to think about his glare. So, he kept his mouth shut and waited patiently for an answer, which he didn't get until after Lovino had snorted and turned his eyes from him to the vase in the corner.

"I thought it would fair to spend some time with you again. But don't get any stupid thoughts! I just want to make sure you won't get any dumb ideas during your sulking!"

Too late, Gilbert thought, but he didn't say anything. He was somehow touched, even if Lovino's gesture was anything but nicely expressed. Gilbert knew him well enough to know how it was meant.

"Go and put some sunblock on your face. We've got an appointment."

"An appointment?" He really hoped that Lovino wasn't planning to take him to a psychiatrist because no matter how bad he felt, he would have to kick him in the ass for that. But Lovino only kept glaring at him, which automatically made Gilbert's legs move and carry him dutifully to the bathroom to look for his sunblock in the cupboard.

As he stepped back out with greasy skin, Lovino was already standing on the porch and tapping his foot in impatience. He reminded Gilbert a little of a bull that wanted to impale him with his horns, but Lovino only tinkled the car keys and nodded towards the car. Gilbert ogled him sceptically.

"I told you I'm not suicidal!"

"I don't doubt that. You're too vain for that," Lovino said, his eye twitching.

"And why do you think I'd willingly get into a car with you?" Gilbert grinned in triumph as Lovino's mysterious expression turned into the usual grumpy glare. He turned around with a snort and went to the car, seemingly no longer caring if Gilbert was following him or not.

"You want to do something nice for once and…" he muttered as he went, making Gilbert suddenly pay more attention.

Something nice? From Lovino? He couldn't miss that, even if it meant that he had to get inside the death machine. Shrugging his shoulders, he hurried after the Italian and was already seated by the time the other reached the car. Lovino lifted his brows at the sudden change in his behaviour but said nothing as he started the engine and drove to the road.

For a while, they kept following the road that Gilbert had taken earlier that day. But before they reached the goat shelter, Lovino turned right, and during the rest of the journey, they had a wide view of the see in the horizon. Gilbert leaned his cheek against the cool window and stared idly outside. Every now and then, his forehead made painful contact with the glass when Lovino drove over a bigger rock, but the coolness felt nice, especially since the car was so hot because of the sun. His thoughts had once again started circling inside his head. He almost hoped that Lovino would throw a few insults at him to distract him, but it was probably better if he focused on the road. His driving was already dangerous enough.

He was so deep in thought that it took him a few moments to notice that they had stopped. Lovino glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "Are you waiting for me to open the door for you, princess?" he asked as Gilbert sent him a glance back.

"Please! To get that honour, you'd have to be a real prince – with golden armour and a white horse and the whole hullabaloo!"

"Well, at least half of that will come true soon," Lovino said with half a grin and stared meaningfully out the window by Gilbert's side. Gilbert followed his eyes, and a few moments later he was stumbling out of the car with an open mound.

They had arrived at the coast, but the lovely view of the deep blue waves and the pale sand weren't the reason for Gilbert's sudden shock. A little distance away from the beach, at the feet of the cliffs, next to two beautiful stone houses, stood a stable. The sparse spots of grass before the house were surrounded by a fence, and on the field inside was a herd of horses, nibbling on the brown grass and rolling around in dirt. Gilbert took a few, careful steps forwards, and he was soon met with the typical scent of horses and straw that reminded him of his childhood and the beautiful days on his uncle's farm. Behind him, Lovino closed the car door and came to stand by his side.

"I take it that the crazy grin is a positive sign," he commented, and it was only then that Gilbert noticed that his mouth had moved on its own and that he was already starting to get cramps in his cheeks.

"I have to admit – after the scene in the morning, I was doubting your comforting skills, but you clearly know how to make a man happy!" Gilbert laughed as he saw Lovino grow red. "I mean, assuming that I'm reading the situation right and you brought me here to ride on the beach and not just watch the horses eat grass and to feed them sugar."

Lovino only snorted and walked ahead to the stable to hide his red face. "You always act like a kid, but don't worry. I didn't bring you here to enjoy a kiddie birthday. But if you want to keep acting like an idiot, it will be too late to ride out."

Gilbert didn't need to be told twice and stomped after Lovino, keeping his eyes on the horses that had lifted their heads and were staring at them. He kept stumbling over the uneven ground because he wasn't paying attention – he was too distracted by the joy of the upcoming ride. If there was something he needed now, it was a fast gallop. It was as if his body was vibrating, and the sea wind that whipped him in the face was blowing away all of his sad thoughts until there was nothing but happy memories of his childhood, of a time when he had still been innocent and perfect and awesomeness personified, the way he was trying to be now after his teenage years.

Half-way there, they were met by a blonde woman. She was wearing brown riding boots and glasses and greeted Lovino with a loud, stern voice.

"Monique!" Lovino said, simultaneously a greeting and an introduction. "This is Gilbert. Gilbert – Monique Andrieux. The farm here belongs to her, and despite my protests, she has agreed to lend you a horse."

"Opal is going to wear down a lean, pale guy like him," Monique said with a wink, and Gilbert made an outraged face that he couldn't hold back.

"I've ridden wild mustangs!" he claimed. That was maybe a little exaggerated, but he had once held onto a panicked stallion that had taken him through the woods for over three kilometres.

"Sure, cowboy!" Lovino said, rolling his eyes, before turning his attention back to Monique. "We don't want to bother you for long. If he's lying and can't really ride, he'll pay double and will get a real kick in the ass."

"I have boots with spurs. I can take care of the ass-kicking," Monique warned, and Gilbert made use of his angry expression again.

"I can ride!" he said once more. "Probably better than you two combined!"

Monique shot him an unimpressed look and nodded towards the stable. "The horses have been saddled and are ready. You have an hour. Lovino, I trust you to bring my animals back healthy and that's the only reason I let you ride without supervision. Make sure the fidgety fool stays on the saddle, okay?"

Lovino grabbed Gilbert by the shirt and dragged him along before he could react to the insulting description of him, and thankfully the animals had soon distracted him from wanting to defend his honour. His horse – Opal – was a deep brown gelding that whinnied in a friendly way and shook his head when Gilbert stroked him on the nostrils and let him sniff his hand. Lovino's horse seemed to know him already. She snorted as Lovino patted her on the neck and climbed onto the saddle. Unlike in his earlier words about golden armour and a white horses, he was riding a black mare, but Gilbert couldn't deny that he made a good sight.

"You're so slow today!" Lovino complained. "You heard that we only have the horses for an hour. Do you have any idea how dragon-like Monique can be and how many reminder fees she charges even for five minutes? Come on – move it!"

Gilbert simply grinned at him, stroked his horse one more time over the nostrils and climbed onto the saddle as Lovino made a move to ride out without him. They trotted past Monique and towards the thin line of a road that they had driven there. Then Lovino directed them to a trail that led through the crumbling rumble of the coastal countryside to the beach. It had to be a familiar route because the horses automatically broke into faster speed as soon as the ground beneath their hooves turned softer and wider. He could feel their eagerness to gallop, and Gilbert was the last to forbid this joy.

It required only some light pressure against Opal's sides, and he was whooshing past Lovino and his mare with a scream of joy on his lips. The sand swirled under the hard hooves of the horse, spray from the sea and salty wind whipped him in the face, and for a moment he felt more alive than ever before. It didn't take long before Lovino shot past him with a focused expression, clearly not ready to lose the unofficial race.

They kept chasing each other for a few minutes. Every now and then they directed their horses into a curve when they came upon stranded pieces of wood they could jump over, and Gilbert enjoyed forcing Lovino and his mare into the wet waves until Lovino dug his heels into the horse's sides and managed to ride past him. In the end, it was still Gilbert who first jumped over the broken fence, reaching the end of the beach and the finish line. He hooted loudly in the empty area, listening to the crunching of the crumbling ground under Opal's trotting hooves and let himself be buried into the deep red tone with which the setting sun was painting the hilltops. He noticed that he was happy, even though only a few hours earlier, he had been sure never to feel joy again. Not here out in the Italian countryside where there was nobody who could replace Eliza. But when he turned his head and saw Lovino trotting towards him – his face a grimace, showing his displeasure over the lost race – that's when Gilbert realised that he had been wrong.

He would never be able to leave this place. Not for as long as Lovino was here with his explosive temper, the endless attempts to hide his smile, the insults that weren't meant to be friendly but were that anyway and the light touches when he took Gilbert's empty plate from his hands.

It was the first evening he spent with Lovino after breaking up with Eliza, and he hadn't thought of her even once, hadn't been distracted by any depressing thoughts. Instead, he was happy, couldn't stop smiling and when Lovino accused him of cheating during the race and threw an olive at him, and when his tanned skin and the dark eyes and the hair messed up by the wind were glistening in the evening sun, that's when Gilbert knew that –

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

– that he was doomed.