Where then is my hope? Who can see any hope for me? (Job 17:15)

Lovino remembered what his first kiss had been like. He had been in middle school, forced to go to some party by one of his friends that were more like acquaintances. Being the hormonal little shits they were, someone had the brilliant idea to play 'seven minutes in heaven.' It was an extremely uncomfortable, painfully awkward affair, yet it continued for God knows how long. Eventually, Lovino could not escape taking a turn.

The empty soda bottle they had been using ended up pointing to an olive-skinned girl with dark hair tied into pigtails. Lovino knew nothing about her more other than her name- Michelle. With an embarrassed flush forming on his cheeks, he grudgingly stood up and followed the girl into the walk-in closet while the others whooped and whistled behind him.

It wasn't that Michelle was ugly. Really, she was rather cute. The majority of the guys in their class had a crush on her. Lovino could nearly feel the jealous stares boring into his back when the bottle landed on her. So when she leaned in and kissed him, it should have been explosive. Amazing. Life-altering. But it wasn't. 'Gross' wasn't the right word. A more accurate description would have been 'flat.' With Antonio, it had been anything but. That kiss made Lovino feel as though he had been shot to another planet.

Now, he was crashing back down to earth.

.

Some time later, Lovino realized he could not stay curled up on the floor forever. Maybe some part of him still believed Antonio would come back. Maybe an even smaller part believed Lovino could somehow fix the monumental mess he made for himself, but deep down he knew that wouldn't happen. Eventually, Feliciano would come looking for him. Come to think of it, how long had he left Feliciano waiting? God, had he managed to mess that up, too?

Lovino pried himself off the floor and started towards the door. Before he entered the lobby, he took a very long, deep breath and wiped his bleary eyes. He would need to put on the performance of lifetime to convince Feliciano nothing had happened. He needed to act like his entire world didn't shatter like glass and slice him open just a moment ago. With all the inner-strength he could muster, he exited the room, walked through the lobby and made his way outside- where he found Ludwig and Feliciano. Kissing.

Any other time, Lovino would have slapped the German bastard across the face for touching his little brother. But now all he could was stare for long enough that it was probably creepy, wondering what it would be like if that were him and Antonio, wondering what it would be like if he hadn't said it was a mistake, and Lovino hadn't called him those things. Once he came to his senses, Lovino shook his head and concentrated on keeping his tears at bay. "We should go, Feliciano."

Feliciano squeaked in surprise and pulled away from Ludwig, who turned scarlet, said a rushed goodbye and started off in the other direction. Feliciano turned red himself and took a staggered step backwards. "L-Lovi, please don't be mad, I-"

Lovino was far too exhausted to be mad. Even if he wasn't emotionally and physically drained beyond belief, he couldn't say he would be angry regardless. Feliciano was happy. The person he was kissing did not apologize for doing so. He would be a monster if he were upset about that. Lovino shook his head and held his hand in front of him. "I don't care. Let's just go."

Feliciano stayed silent and stared at him, confusion evident on his face. After a long silence he finally said, "Oh. Okay."

Feliciano didn't take long to recover from his embarrassment and figure out something was wrong. Lovino expected as much. His brother was more in-tune with emotions than anyone he had ever known. They hadn't taken so much as ten steps before he spoke up again. "Lovino…why did you take so long back there?" he said slowly, carefully. "Is everything okay? How's Antonio?"

If only those questions- those two menial, everyday questions- didn't have such complex answers. Lovino found himself reliving the five minutes that had gone from confusing to wonderful to insurmountably terrible as quickly as a roller coaster speeds down a track. He knew if he did not stop he would cry again. He would never live it down if Feliciano saw him cry, he was always the strong one, he could handle this, no he couldn't, he…

"Lovino?" The concern in Feliciano's voice was dreadfully apparent.

Lovino forced the painful memory to the back of his mind. "Oh," he managed to say. "Everything is fine. Antonio is just…tired. That's all." He shook his head. "Bastard." He said it under his breath as if to try and convince himself of it.

"Oh." Feliciano both looked and sounded unconvinced. He didn't say anything for about a minute, as if he were searching for the right words. "What do you think of Antonio, Lovino?"

Lovino almost laughed at the horribly ironic timing. What did he think of Antonio? Antonio was everything. That was all there was to say, but he obviously could not say that. Instead, he discredited it all with a cowardly lie. "Antonio is an idiot. Why would you ask such a strange question?" He tried to sound indifferent. Maybe he would start to believe his own lies soon.

Feliciano frowned. "Are you sure, Lovi?" He was speaking too gently, as if Lovino was a child. "If you think he's an idiot, why would you keep talking to him? You go out of your way to do it, too. Like you stay after class, and-"

Lovino was fairly sure they had had this conversation before. "He talks to me. Not the other way around. I can't stop him from talking to me." Although, he was certain he had just done exactly that. As forgiving as Antonio was, who in their right mind would willingly speak with someone who called them disgusting? He bit his inner lip so hard he tasted blood. "I'm sure it doesn't matter anymore."

"Doesn't matter anymore?" Feliciano looked confused, but after a moment his eyes shot open. "Something did happen, didn't it? I knew you were acting strange! What happened, Lovi? You can tell me."

Feliciano placed his hand on Lovino's shoulder, but Lovino quickly shrugged it off. "What are you talking about?" he said indignantly. "Nothing happened. Don't be stupid." Lovino knew his brother didn't deserve the insult, but he had spoken before he thought, as it was quickly becoming a habit. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was talk about Antonio for even one second longer. All he wanted to do was go to his room, lock the door and never face the outside world ever again.

Feliciano drew his lips into a thin line. The less than subtle hint must have been taken, because the rest of the walk home passed in silence. The moment they arrived home, Lovino ignored his grandfather, all but ran into his room, locked the door and finally released the tears he had been holding back. Somehow, he knew he would be doing a lot of that from now on.

.

Knocking.

Lovino had no idea how long he had been in his room, or even how long ago the knocking started. He had been far too busy withdrawing into his own little world, imagining dozens upon dozens of different ways today could have gone differently. He knew he was torturing himself. He knew doing this was fruitless. But that did not stop him. Hell, he was sure he couldn't stop if he tried. The only thing that snapped him out of this dejection-fueled trance was the sound of Feliciano's voice.

"Fratello, please answer me!" His voice held an edge of anxiety. "You locked the door, and you missed dinner! I don't want you to go hungry, I saved you some pasta, but if you don't come out of there you can't eat it so you need to come out!"

Lovino sighed. Panicking his brother wasn't going to do a damn thing to help anyone, so he finally said, "Alright, Feli. Give me thirty seconds. Jesus."

Before going to the door, Lovino glanced in the mirror on his dresser. As expected, he looked a mess. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair was sticking out in all directions, and his cheeks were tearstained. He groaned, both ashamed and angry about the reflection staring back at him, mocking him. This was absolutely unacceptable. He had a wall built around himself for a reason, dammit! The second he allowed that Spanish idiot to break it down, this happened. Of course- this was exactly what he deserved. Lovino made an attempt to look halfway decent and went to answer the door.

"I wasn't hungry," he said.

Feliciano only looked at him for a long while. It was obvious- he saw right through him. "Lovino, it's pretty obvious that something is wrong. Won't you please tell me? I told you about what happened when I got upset after confession, so I think you could at least-"

Lovino cut him off. "This is nothing like that," he said unthinkingly. It was a true statement. What had happened with Feliciano and Ludwig was absolutely nothing like this. That had ended well enough for the both of them. Lovino shook his head. "Just… don't worry about it. It's nothing, it's fine."

Feliciano gaped at him. "Don't worry about it? But Lovi! You're my brother, I can't just stop worrying about you!" Then, he launched himself onto Lovino and hugged him. "Please talk to me, Lovi!"

Lovino gasped, though he was not sure why. Feliciano hugged him all the time. He was infamous for hugging everyone. Yet this felt different…no, he knew why. The last person to hug him was Antonio. Antonio was always hugging him. Antonio. Antonio. A rush of emotion slammed into Lovino like a raging current. He spoke and acted impulsively. "What are you doing?" He pushed Feliciano off of him like he was some kind of dangerous animal, desperate to stop the pain. "Just…just leave me the hell alone! Fucking Christ!"

Then, he slammed the door in his face. Lovino quickly came back to his senses and realized he had yelled at Feliciano- sweet, kind Feliciano- just like he had yelled at Antonio- loving, wonderful Antonio. No wonder he was alone. No wonder Antonio was sorry, no wonder, no wonder…he sunk to the floor, willing his head to stop spinning and his rushing thoughts to stop piercing through his heart.

Lovino had never hated himself more than he did in that moment.

.

Ringing.

Goddammit, where was his phone? Lovino was sure he had switched the blasted thing off. No, that's right- Roma had told him to keep it on when Feliciano announced he was going somewhere with Ludwig the previous Saturday, just in case he needed something. He followed the sound to the drawer he had thrown it in; terrified he would call Antonio on impulse if the phone was in his reach. Well, there was no way Antonio would be calling now. It was probably some telemarketer or something, maybe a wrong number. Lovino looked at the caller ID…no. That was Antonio's number.

He froze as the phone continued to ring. What could Antonio possibly be calling for? He could imagine it now: 'Hola, Lovino. I was just calling to say that every second of time I spent with you was a mistake. I don't actually love you. By the way, you're a jerk.' He would speak in the same cheerfulness, still with a smile, then he would laugh in that same breathtaking way…Lovino closed his eyes. At the same time, he knew he should pick it up. This could quite possibly be his last chance to fix things.

But he didn't pick it up. He simply could not do it. He could not deal with this, any of this. Whatever heart-breaking things Antonio had to say, Lovino did not want to hear it. He was not ready to accept it. With trembling hands, he picked the phone up and ripped the battery out.

Who cared about that Spanish bastard, anyway?

.

Enough was enough.

Come Sunday, a frigidly cold day near the end of November, Lovino made the decision that he was done moping around and feeling sorry for himself. It was pathetic. This entire situation was pathetic, just as much as it was hopeless. No matter how much pain it would inevitably bring him, Lovino knew that he had to face Antonio again. Yes, he would face Antonio, face whatever deserved consequences it would cause, and then accept the result. He would be mature. As much as he would like to think it was, he didn't exactly have a choice. They had group today.

As Lovino walked to church- much more quickly than he should, and ignoring Feliciano's demands to slow down- he listed all the possibilities almost compulsively in his thoughts. The best-case scenario would be that Antonio threw himself at him, blubbering apologies for things he didn't do. At the same time, that would be the worst thing to happen, because Lovino wouldn't know how to react and he would probably screw it up again and dammit this was getting him nowhere!

Repressing the rest of his endless worrying, Lovino entered the church lobby. It didn't take long for him to spot Antonio. Then again, it never did. He was sure Antonio saw him, too… and immediately turned away when he they locked eyes. In less time than it took him to even realize it, Lovino's confidence from earlier fizzled and died as abruptly as a candle being blown out. Now that Antonio was within his line of sight, he felt as though he forgot how to be human. He was unsure what to do with his hands, his arms, and suddenly became hyperaware of how he was standing, like a baby deer. He couldn't be sure exactly what he was feeling, whether it was nervousness or anger or regret, but he supposed that did not matter.

With trembling legs, Lovino walked up to Antonio and tried to seem indifferent. "Hey. Bastard." Not the best greeting, but at least it was normal. Normal for them.

Antonio turned around, and Lovino instantly knew something was very wrong. For one thing, he wasn't smiling. Antonio not smiling was about as normal as water turning to blood, and he was sure it was equally as disturbing. His eyes held no passion, but were instead dark and dead. His head snapped back when he first saw Lovino standing before him, but it took almost no time to blink away his shock. His eventual response was dry, formal. "Hello, Lovino." No interminable enthusiasm. No wild laughter. No personal nicknames.

Lovino forgot how to speak English, or any language for that matter. This, he had not expected. Really, what had he expected? His mind was such a mess that he could not even remember what unrealistic fantasy out of dozens that he had wanted the most. Well aware that hadn't thought this far ahead, he wracked his brain for a response and said the very first thing that came to mind. "No sermon again today?"

Antonio blinked, his expression still blank as printer paper. "No." He wrung his hands together and concentrated on nothing but the simple action for a long moment. Then, he glanced quickly at Lovino and arched and eyebrow like he wasn't sure why he was still here. "Did you need something?"

This was too much. "Are we just going to pretend last week didn't happen?" Lovino's voice held an unfamiliar strain of what was almost panic. Don't do this to me.

"Look," said Antonio, his dead eyes momentarily flickering with life. He sighed, ran a hand through that perpetually messy hair, and finally returned to this strange apathetic character he had adopted. "I apologize for what I did. I wasn't thinking, and I was completely out of line. I have crossed so many boundaries with you, and I realize now that I need to stop." He appeared to look not at, but through Lovino. "I suppose my feelings were too strong for me to tell the difference between right and wrong." The way he said it was shockingly casual, as if he were summarizing the weather rather than shattering Lovino's heart.

Lovino felt a tidal wave of confusion crash into every part of him. He stopped breathing almost completely, his mind exploding into racing thought. Did that mean…no; it couldn't possibly mean…that he had misunderstood Antonio? All of this pain, all of those tears had been over a misunderstanding? Lovino cursed his temper, his tendency to overreact, absolutely everything about himself. Wait, he could change this, this was fixable, this was so confusing… "Antonio, no, I…" Shit, shit, shit, what was there to say? He needed to come up with something, fast. Lovino felt his face grow red and his hands become clammy. "I…"

Only Antonio held out his hand, stopping him from even attempting to explain. "You told me to leave you alone, and that's exactly what I'm going to do." He hesitated for such a short time Lovino was sure he had imagined it, then walked off into a crowd of people he did not know.

"But…" Lovino watched Antonio disappear into the crowd until he could no longer be seen. He brought his hands to his face and spoke into them, as softy as he could possibly manage. "…I love you."

And it hurt too damn much.

.

Group was terrible. Antonio spoke without passion, without smiling, without any of the spirit that made him who he was. Lovino was certain that each and every person in the room had taken notice. How could they not, when the change was so abrupt and severe? Using every ounce of control he still managed to hold onto, Lovino trained himself to keep his eyes locked on the floor. No matter how badly he wanted to look up, he knew that catching sight of Antonio's listless eyes and his crestfallen expression would only serve as a reminder of what he had ruined- everything he had ruined in one split second of foolishly instinctive, thoughtless anger.

Maybe this was for the better. If it had somehow worked out with Antonio, if some miracle occurred that allowed them to be together, Lovino was sure it would not last for long. Sooner rather than later, Antonio would come to his senses and realize exactly how much better he could do. That would surely hurt more than losing the possibility over a misunderstanding. It would indisputably be better than seeing how wonderful it could be and then losing it in an instant. That was what Lovino desperately told himself, at least. That thought was keeping him sane.

After Antonio dismissed the meeting with a weak clap, he stood up and exited the room with such purpose it seemed as though simply being inside was suffocating him. Lovino watched him go, sighed, and got up himself. He did not try to go after him. Without consciously thinking the words, he knew he had given up on this, on them. Somewhere along the line, he realized with a blast of shame that he had not simply ruined something for himself, no. Lovino had somehow managed to ruin Antonio, and that was the real tragedy.

While he was walking home with Feliciano, he made a decision: Today had been his last day at that church.

To be continued...