The routine was engrained deep in his mind by now. Sit, talk, eat, sleep, and repeat. It was an endless loop, and Lovino was already starting to get tired of it despite it only being the second day. The only thing he could do to entertain himself was look around at the blank walls and try to dream up escape plans that he knew were too farfetched to work. Alfred was in the same state as he was, at the moment. His legs were sprawled along the couch and his head hung from the armrest at the far end. He would let out a groan every now and again, only for Arthur to tell him to "shut his bloody mouth", which was only more fuel for Alfred to continue.

"Do we get to do anything around here?" He asked, mostly to himself, but obviously the others heard. Antonio shook his head solemnly, looking over at the Italian who was slumped down into the chair.

"Not really. They don't want us to have 'too much fun'."

"That's bullshit."

"That's life."

"Oh come on Toni," Alfred chimed in, giving him a slap on the back, "don't be such a downer! Sometimes we listen to music and color!"

"You sound like my idiot brother."

"But.. It's fun..Oh!" His head snapped up, glasses sliding, "One time they brought in a puppy!"

"How long have you been here?"

"Two weeks."

"Christ.."

Lovino crossed his arms across his chest, looking over at the Spaniard who was staring right back. It was kind of creepy, in a way, but Lovino just shrugged it off as a habitual gesture Antonio was accustomed to. Even so, his cheeks started to turn pink at the blank stare he was receiving. "Quit looking at me, bastard."

"S-Sorry. You just have really nice eyes, is all."

"You've said that before."

"I have?"

With a smirk, the American sat up from the other side of the room. "Oh Lovi you have such beautiful eyes~" Alfred cooed in a teasing manner, trying his best to impersonate Antonio, "And your voice sounds like a million angels singing, and your body is more perfect than a god's, and-"

"Fuck off!" Lovino snapped, his face now a perfect shade of red. Antonio's was a matching color as he shooed the American away.

"I-I never said any of those things."

"You know you want to, dude."

"I do not!"

"Do to."

"You all are children!" Lovino growled, "All of you shut up! God, is there not one person here who isn't absolutely insane?!" He didn't mean it to come across so harshly, but before he knew it, he was huffing and puffing with anger; eyes staring at him with disbelief. Arthur's eyebrows were scrunched together, Antonio looked physically shocked, and Alfred, well, he looked just as angry as Lovino did; if not angrier.

"You're one to talk." He spat, leaning into his face, "If you weren't insane, you wouldn't be here, would you?"

"Freak."

"What did you just say..?"

Antonio tried to cut in, "Alfred."

"Oh and you're just so fucking perfect, aren't you Lovino? No one could ever compare to your perfection!"

Lovino's heart was pounding at a mile a minute as Alfred advanced further towards him. He didn't mean it. He didn't mean to act like he was perfect - he was anything but!

"N-No, please, I didn't-"

"Everyone thinks they're better than me. After all, I'm an idiot, yeah? I'm just a fat useless piece of shit who doesn't deserve happiness."

"Alfred! Take a deep breath." Antonio demanded, looking between the two of them. For once, Antonio looked genuinely pissed off. He stared into Lovino's hazel eyes, not with admiration, but with frustration.

"What was the point of that?" He asked softly, yet firmly, and Lovino stayed silent while looking at the ground. He honestly didn't know why he said those things to Alfred. Maybe it was just that everyone was talking around him and he wanted quiet. Or maybe it was because he was embarrassed about what they were saying about him..?

"I'm sorry." He murmured, almost like a whisper, and Alfred heard the soft apology; managing a smile.

"Nah, it's alright. I got a bit dramatic."

Relieved, Lovino sat back in his chair, feeling the smallest tinge of guiltiness still residing within him and growing with each passing second. He hated to admit that he was wrong, but he didn't want to lose anymore friends. "And.." He started to talk again, "I didn't mean to say I was perfect. That's not what I meant. I know I'm fucked up.."

"Dude, we all are. Seriously, it's fine!"

"G-Grazie.."

Day two seemed to last longer than day one. Every single second dragged on for a century, and every minute was an eternity. After the short scene with Alfred, everything was starting to die down. No one really wanted to do or say anything, but for some reason their therapists wouldn't let them fall asleep. Something about getting used to "routines".

Occasionally Antonio would try to talk to him, and he would make small comments as replies. But that was it, really. Not much was happening, and quite frankly, Lovino was bored and antsy to get out of the unit. But he knew that would be impossible. They could hardly go to the bathroom without supervision, let alone leave the building. Another thing bothering the Italian was the fact that they were restricted from so many things. No books, phones, computers, or anything that could be classified as entertaining, apparently. Just a notebook, which he would doodle in a bit, but then he would get frustrated and not touch it for hours on end.

Also.. the withdrawals. He hadn't made a mark on his skin for a whole two days, and it was driving him insane. Lovino would find himself scratching himself just to feel a bit of the sensations that he used to. And just when he was starting to feel a bit better, one of the therapists (usually Lukas) would reprimand him for wanting to hurt himself. That's the whole reason I'm here, asshole. He would whisper under his breath with a scowl, and a few times he was sure Lukas could hear him. Oh well.

The others were just as solemn as he was. Especially Arthur, it seemed. There was just something about him that made Lovino pity him to no end. The way he constantly would look over his shoulder, or mutter something to himself. Sometimes he would even yell to the air, claiming that he was talking to "the voices". It must have been frightening. Or, maybe what was even more frightening was the fact that Arthur was so used to it. It seemed that Alfred really wanted to help him. Every time Arthur had one of his panic incidents, Alfred would run up to him, lay his hands on his shoulders, and tell him to relax.

"Arthur, look at me. They aren't real. They aren't real, okay?"

"B-But-..!"

"I know they seem real, I know. But look, I'm right here."

"They w-want me to die, Alfred."

"Well tell them to fuck off."

Blinking, the Brit started to chuckle softly, covering his mouth to stop the laughter. Perhaps he thought Alfred would be offended, but really the American was more than happy that he was smiling. So, he started laughing with him, and soon enough Arthur felt more at ease. This happened a few times throughout the afternoon, and Lovino noticed one of the times that Arthur had started crying. Alfred immediately did the same routine, wiped his tears away, but what shocked him was the fact that he planted a small kiss on Arthur's cheek after his anxiety had ceased.

It was rather sweet, Lovino thought, but he wouldn't say anything. Nor would he admit that he wished deep down something like that would happen to him.

His head turned towards his roommate.

Antonio turned towards him.

They looked at each other for only a moment before they jerked their eyes away and continued staring into nothing.

He was curious about Antonio. What he was like, what got him into the hospital... He seemed so happy for someone who was depressed. He didn't want to pry but... Who was he kidding - yes he did. Maybe he would ask him a few questions before they went to bed.

Maybe they would actually understand one another.

Maybe.

Maybe...

Leave a review if you have the time ^^

-Feli