~Azzurro~

Love yourself. It is important to stay positive because beauty comes from the inside out.

- Jenn Proske

Esref Armagan – A Turkish artist who was born without eyes. I am quite fond of his works, they really are lovely and the detail is beautiful. He has been using oil paints for about thirty-five years now. I look up to him quite a bit as someone who adores the arts.

October 9, 2013

Tell me Antonio, have you ever fallen in love?

He tilted his head over to his French friend who was getting into his philosophical mode where he suddenly knew all. Gilbert was sipping at beer and all three sat on the roof of the Spaniard man's home saying their farewells as they parted for their careers. Well, two of them parted, the other was still stuck in the small town that he knew he was forever damned to be in.

"I can't say that I have. What does it feel like?"

Francis clutched his heart despite the tears pricking his eyes, "It's heaven and hell in one! You see that person and you think 'That person, I want that one' but then there's conflictions and arguments almost like the world does not want you together. There's the anxiety of wondering if you deserve them and the constant want to kiss and hold them. It's like going through a store of your favorite things, but your hair's on fire."

Antonio frowned and lifted the champagne bottle to his lips, "Love sounds terrible. Then again, it also sounds wonderful."

Gilbert sighed, "Love is awesome but terrible at the same time. It's indescribable because we're different. Yet, for everyone, love is confusing. You wonder and you wonder for a long time and sadly, some people never stop wondering. Some people are constantly falling in love and those are the people I pity."

Antonio thought about those words for a moment and took another gulp of champagne, "Then I never want to fall in love. It's beautiful, si, but I fear I may give my heart so easily and only be met with destruction and betrayal."

Francis laughed and shoved his friend lightly, "Such a sad life to never fall in love."

Gilbert agreed, "Yeah, what about all of the beautiful women out there? Wouldn't you possibly love one of them?"

Antonio shook his head, "If I fall in love, I want it to be because that person opened a part of me that I never knew existed. I want them to stay up with me to talk about memes and space. I want to eat old Indian food and laugh at outdated movies. I want to look at them and never feel afraid again because they will protect me. I want to be able to hold this person and let them know that they are the most beautiful thing on Earth to me. I want them to know that I'd fight hell if it meant that they were safe."

Francis and Gilbert listened closely and they frowned at each other. They knew what Antonio meant. It was a sad thing, but no matter how much Antonio lied, he would never be able to hide the feeling of sadness that was present in front of his friends. That small speech of his, despite how romantic it sounded, was something very sad indeed. His words really meant 'If I could see, I would be able to fall in love'

Antonio had always been one to doubt himself and assume that he had no future other than the library and art because of his disability. It was unfair too! After all, he was a handsome man with a kind and loving heart who deserved all of the love in the world. Sure, he had a temper and hated being called an idiot when he knew what he was doing, but he had more room in his heart than the anyone else in the world. It was quite a pity considering how everyone else in the town treated him.

It seemed that the world enjoyed being snobby, cruel, and idiotic. No matter how many times Antonio tried to make friends, they all turned him away because 'who wants to play football with a blind kid?' and 'he'll hold us back'. It started out as small things that they had lived with; but when Antonio started to shine and showed talent, people resented him claiming that he was showing off when all that he desired was to be normal and to be like everyone else.

He knew well that he wasn't ever going to see but he loved art so much that he did not give up. He loved music so much that he learned how to play instruments despite being completely blind. What else was he supposed to do? He wanted to be to like everyone else. The only difference was that he shot for the opportunities instead of sitting around and watching the world pass by without a so much as a second thought about it.

Francis found it sad that he was resented so after all of these years when all he had done was defend his honor and pride. His look towards Gilbert was a sad one that showed just how much he wished for his friend to find love soon so that he would know how special he was. He put a hand on Antonio's shoulder and smiled even if his friend would not see it, "One day, you're going to find somebody you love more than anything else in the world and Gilbert and I will only watch from the corners as you hopelessly try to figure out what is going on."

Gilbert snickered and nudged the tanner of them all, "Yeah, and then when you come to us helpless like a little bird, we'll laugh and tell you to remember that night back in October when we told you that it would happen!"

Antonio scoffed at his friends and chuckled, "That's easy for you to say, Francis has Joan and you flirt so much that I'm surprised you aren't already a father."

Francis rolled his eyes and folded his arms in disbelief, "I can't believe that you, Antonio the man of passion, refuse to accept that you will fall in sooner or later. I am lucky to have Joan and Gilbert, well, you know he's too focused on work to actually settle down. Plus, we're so young! We've barely graduated and are headed on our paths to becoming great! It's just like when we were kids."

Gilbert scowled at his friends who were snickering and blew a raspberry at them, cursing in German shortly after. They all laughed and enjoyed the moment as the wind blew and made the leaves rustle. The sounds of the night soothed them all. Antonio tilted his head up and silently made a wish. His friends watched him and frowned when they saw the wish.

Though Antonio thought that he was secretive, he was a pretty easy person to read. For example, when he made a wish, he scrunched his nose and mouthed each word.

'God, please let me leave this town'

It was the same wish he made every night. How Gilbert and Francis wanted to take him away from the town. Yet, what would they do? Antonio hated to be treated like a baby needing constant attention because of his blindness, so he would not be happy if they took him because he would not recognize the places and he would be at risk of getting lost if he continued to act the way that he did. No matter what they told him, Antonio would do something else in frustration of having to depend on someone else just to walk across the street. To him, it was just as bad as never fighting to go to art school.

Francis looked at his friend with a sad look knowing that he would be the first of their trio to leave the next day. Looking up towards the sky, he made a silent prayer for God to bring Antonio an angel that would show him that he deserved love after all; blind or not.

'Tell me, Antonio, will you ever allow yourself to fall in love?'

The rain tapped at the window making a melodious tune that Antonio quite enjoyed. He listened to it as he sipped at the hot cocoa in front of him. The sounds of people talking soothed him. Although quite a few people disliked him, others adored and admired him. It was simply fear of speaking to him because he was stubborn about being helped.

He put his fingers to his watch and felt for the knob that told him what time it was. He had been constantly checking it over and over nervously. It was strange since he had never been this anxious to meet someone. Then again, this person would be his muse and that was something exciting. For an artist to find his or her muse was like finding gold! Now he had one, and he wanted to paint this muse over and over again until he became a meme for it. Okay, so perhaps not the meme thing, but he still wanted to paint his muse many times.

He took another sip of his hot cocoa and waited, his hands instinctively running over the knobs on his watch over and over to feel that one that poked out the most. He crossed his legs and uncrossed them, fingers tapping at the wooden tabletop with anxious desire. Minutes continued to pass and his hot cocoa slowly emptied more and more. He hummed a merry tune and continued to wait, his fingers red from a number of times he stabbed his fingers into that one knob.

The door jingled as it was opened and his head shot up in anticipation. The angry grumbles and harsh words towards the weather put a smile on Antonio's face as he knew who that person was. When the smell of chocolate became present, he knew and he jolted out his seat and clapped his hands like an excited toddler.

"Ah! You're here! I'm so glad!"

The other seemed to scoff lightly and pull out the seat to sit down, "Of course I'm here, I told you I would be. I'm not going to ditch you, that would be rude and stupid. I am not that kind of person. Turtle Dork, I would have thought you'd have more faith in me," he teased with a smirk.

Antonio laughed nervously and rubbed his neck, "It's not that I didn't have faith in you, it's just that people tend to lie and leave me alone which is no fun at all because it's embarrassing but you're here and that's what's important!"

He quickly sat back in his seat and lay his head in his hands with an idiotic smile on his face. His feet were tapping mad fast on the tile ground and frankly, the amount of joy in him could have made any sane person sick to their stomach.

He remained like that, almost appearing as if he could see, "So, do you have a specific place that you would be comfortable with me painting you at or is anywhere good?"

Lovino thought for a moment, his hazel-green eyes peering at the smiling idiot in front of him, "Well, I'd suggest my apartment since it's cozy but emboorsonu.."

"Perdón?"

"Emboorsonu.."

"Ahah, Lovino I think I need to hear that one more time."

By now, Lovino was red-faced and embarrassed beyond belief. He slammed his face on the table, nearly causing Antonio's hot cocoa to tip over and groaned in misery, "I . . I'd rather not have you walk into the dump of a place known as my apartment!"

Antonio blinked, trying to process what had happened and once he did, he started laughing and could not stop. The entire room went silent as they watched these two college students; one dying of laughter while the other died of embarrassment. Antonio was practically crying and falling out of his seat at what had happened while Lovino looked ready to murder him with hard, rage-filled eyes.

Antonio lifted his head up, eyes closed and crinkled at the corners as he continued to laugh, "Lo siento! Lo siento! It's just that I already suspected that. I mean, we're in college, you just moved here, I would have been impressed if you weren't in an apartment," he paused, shaking his head, "Oh, that probably sounded rude. I'm sorry. I just mean that it's not a big deal to me if you're poor or not. It's something so silly, why would it matter?"

Lovino looked up at him, obviously angry that he had been laughed at, but pleased that somebody didn't care about status. Plus, as messed up as it sounded, it wasn't like Antonio would be able to look at his apartment and judge it.

He sighed and shook his head, "Whatever. If we're painting there then you better learn to clean up because I don't need to pay extra money to get that carpet fixed because you spilled a bright pink paint on the floor! Clear?"

"Crystal. I won't drop a single drop of paint on your carpet! You could hit me over the head if I do," he joked lightly.

"Trust me, Antonio, I'd hit you over the head even if you didn't drop paint on my carpet," Lovino snickered at the other, enjoying the look on his face.

He laughed and nodded, honestly not doubting that Lovino would fulfill his threat. In the couple of days that he had gotten to know him in, he realized just how much of sarcastic attitude he really had. With a soft smile on his face, he took a sip from his hot cocoa. Listening to Lovino was always entertaining because he knew that even though he spoke with harsh words, each one was used on everyone else so it did not make him feel bad. Perhaps at first, it was a bit shocking but not so much.

It was interesting, Antonio wasn't normally one to talk to people much anymore. He normally secluded himself to the people he knew. Of course, he would always speak to somebody if they spoke to him—it was common manners that one should be aware of. Still, he did not really socialize out of his small group which made this something surprising him. He was talking freely to Lovino, words that were sweet and funny. He was laughing and talking to somebody completely as if he had known him for a while. He actually quite liked it.

It had been so long since he had actually had asked someone to be his figure for a painting. In all honesty, he had no idea what drove him to this impulsive decision. He knew nothing about Lovino, and Lovino knew nothing of him. They were simply two people who despite being foils, somehow managed to work out a sort of friendship. What hit him was that the first thing that Lovino did each time that they met wasn't worry about him and his sight—he seemed to know in some sort of way. It was almost like he could detect that somewhere, Antonio could have smiled brighter.

With rain tapping at the windows, he found himself thinking about the person in front of him more. His fingers tapped at the wooden table top once more as he tried to pick up the courage to speak. His questions surely had to come off as strange? Also, did he have a look of disappointment or pity on his face whenever he saw the other? He didn't know at all and it caused him a little bit of stress. Quickly though, he pushed such thoughts away and tried to think of the good things like the fact that he had never really spoken to anybody in the town this long before.

Twisting his hands together, he smiled warmly, "You like to cook, si? What else do you like to do?"

"I like writing and psychology—I guess."

At this, Antonio perked up, "Writing and psychology? That's interesting. Is there a specific part for either?"

Lovino shrugged lightly, "I like creating historical fiction, mostly about World War Two because I have a fascination with that and I also really like writing about the Roman Empire. I also like to write about madness, and what goes on in the mind which explains the like for psychology. It's kinda stupid and it's just a hobby anyway. Plus, the last time I actually wrote was when I was sixteen and those were some gross years."

At this, Antonio frowned. His hands went over each other and his shoulders slouched forward ever so slightly, "I don't think it's stupid, in fact, I think it endearing. You can always have more than one thing that you like to do. Just because cooking is your passion doesn't mean you can't write on the side."

Lovino folded his arms loosely and leaned back in his seat, "I don't think I mentioned cooking as my passion."

Antonio laughed lightly and his laughter rang clearly. His head tilted downward while white teeth flashed, "You're a culinary student, Brad."

"Call me Brad again, and I will choke you and it won't be kinky," Lovino blew a raspberry at him.

Antonio snorted, "What? I didn't realize we were getting that close yet, Lovino."

"We get into conversations about random stuff that often gets personal whenever we meet. I think it's safe to say that I'm stuck with you now."

"Aww, but you care about me!"

"Whatever floats your boat, Turtle Dork."

Antonio pondered for a moment, before nudging Lovino gently, "What's the deep and meaningful conversation for today then?"

"Hmm. What about—what's life like? Being blind, I mean. Is it harder to make friends or do you just ignore people? What's the deal with you?"

Antonio smiled, and picked up his white cane holding it out towards Lovino, "I was given a white cane when I was a kid because a car accident stole my eyesight. Ever since then, I have made it my job to learn to use my other senses so that this cane and stay hidden for as much as I can keep it hidden. When learning to use your other senses, you tend to pick up on other things like how people react, the little words people say—small things. I'd like to think I read the atmosphere well but when you live in a word of nothing but black, you begin to ignore everything else except for the good and promising. Well, I did anyway."

"And the bad?"

"Some of us dangle onto the hopes of optimism a little more than most," he confessed, not a hint of shame present in him. In fact, he was still beaming.

Lovino frowned and looked at him, how was he still smiling so well? It didn't make sense. He said things that were sadder than anything but he smiled constantly and always seemed to be looking towards the good. He couldn't understand it all and it confused him more than anything.

After that, Antonio almost brushed it aside as if it had not happened. He simply smiled, ordered a coffee with a slice of pumpkin chocolate chip bread, and made a comment on how the rain sounded like beautiful music to him. His eyes did not see anything, but from the way that his fingers gingerly grazed over the cool table and how he smiled a little wider each passing minute that the rain continued, it was obvious that he did see something in his heart. His green eyes sparkled with joy of all of the things that he would never see. His attitude seemed so carefree and relaxed.

Lovino envied it.

Discussions of painting and projects that needed to be done flew off into the air, neglected and replaced with random questions by Lovino. Strange ones at that.

"But like, how do you wipe your ass? You can't see when you're done wiping, so how do you know it's okay to stop wiping?"

"I pray to God and the Virgin that I wiped enough times and then I wipe a few times more."

"I swear-"

The conversation carried on like that, Lovino asking Antonio common things about what his life was like. They made Antonio a bit uncomfortable at first, thinking that Lovino felt sorry for him, but he began to realize that it was much more than that and that Lovino was curious. He didn't blame him. So when questions like "how do you get dressed?" and "is crossing the street, scary?" popped up, he didn't mind.

Antonio felt his smile broaden as he listened to Lovino—he even laughed. The comments didn't have a grand impact on him. In the time that he had known Lovino, he had grown used to the snarky comments and the way he insulted people in such a blunt manner. it didn't matter much to him. He simply laughed and continued talking to Lovino, enjoying the way he got embarrassed actually. To him, it was sweet the way that he got flustered easily because it meant that behind all of that tough Italian skin, there was a soft heart. It pleased Antonio and honestly, in the past couple of days, he had never felt a friendship more free and lively than this one he had right now.

Lovino listened unlike the rest of the world that simply went on and let words pass by like nothing else. He liked talking to Lovino because unlike his other friends, Lovino's first reaction wasn't pity. Even if it was, he hid it well so Antonio didn't particularly feel upset. The rain's pitter-patter continued and the smell of sugar in the café was prominent. It made their laughs all the more joyful and Lovino's comments all the more amusing.

Neither could remember a time that they had laughed so much.

"Why did you even want me to be your muse?"

Antonio was a bit surprised. They were currently walking through the park in the chilly weather and having a small conversation on what a giant stress college was and the assignments that they had for every other class that wasn't their major. They hadn't really gotten much into depth after that. Mostly because every question Antonio asked that involved more about Lovino's life, he pushed it away and avoided answering it.

It was strange, but Antonio had accepted it and simply moved on to the next question in hopes of getting to know his friend a bit more. Here they were, ready to leap into a project despite not knowing each other for more than a month. The stranger part, suddenly, he wasn't concerned with perfecting the person who would have his mother's eyes. As important as all of them had been, they were all gone. Francis and Gilbert showed up briefly, but not a lot. Thus, he was letting go of the past, including holding his mother as his muse and beginning to lean more towards those who were in front of him right now—like Lovino.

Then there was the fact that simply being around Lovino made him want to paint more. He didn't quite understand it but it clicked in the park. One simple question and it felt like someone understood it all. He had acted not like himself but Lovino still spoke to him in the same voice as always. At first, it made him worry that he was annoying the other but when the conversation ended, he saw that it was simply the way that Lovino was.

Placing his hands into his pocket, he smiled warmly, "You're one of the only people who didn't take pity on me."

Now it was Lovino's turn to be surprised. He blinked and stared at the man in front of him, questioning his answer.

Antonio stopped for a moment and tapped his feet on the ground, pleased when he found a crisp leaf to crunch beneath his boot. He smiled wide as he did, quickly trying to walk to wherever Lovino was, "I know it seems dumb, but it just sucks having people not see me as a person and just some exhibit to go to when they want to seem like a good person. It's hard to explain."

Lovino quickly looked down, shrugging even though Antonio would not be able to see it, "It's understandable. People like to be selfish and dumb like that," he shrugged and then paused, "But, I'm sure your family at least treats you decent, if not really proud of your art, because you have talent."

"My mama was always so happy to see I was doing well at something. My brother was a bit protective of me and my papa, well, he thought it was cute at first. Then, he just snapped I guess, I dunno? But he didn't think it cute or nice; he thought of it as a waste of time and he wasn't the same anymore. It sucks, but I don't like to think about it too much." His voice seemed to dim down from the cherry tone it had previously been, "I consider myself lucky, though. I got the chance to see color, life, my family, my friends—not like Esref Armagan."

Lovino cocked his brow slightly in curiosity, "Who is that?"

Antonio lit up for a moment and clasped his hands together, the sad demeanor washing away in a confusing moment, "Oh, he's this amazing Turkish painter who was born without the ability to see! I love his work—never mind, it's silly. He's just a good artist is all."

"Talking about what you like isn't silly. You know what's silly? The fact that you think that that..that is silly."

"That that...that?"

"Shut up, English is dumb."

He still smiled, but that previous glow that radiated joy was gone and he was his normal self with a hint of joy that clung to him. It was odd, but Lovino still didn't know a lot about him and didn't judge him.

Antonio started asking a new set of questions almost immediately, wanting to know everything that there was to know about Lovino. His favorite color, favorite food, where he was from—he even asked about Feliciano. That one shocked Lovino for a second since he had only mentioned him once before. He brushed his hair away from where it tickled his nose and he thought about it all.

Antonio walked beside him, the smell of chocolate and spice the only other sign beside huffs and 'dummy' that escaped his lips with certain things that Antonio said. He liked it because as far as he knew, Lovino talked to everyone in a similar manner which eliminated feelings of possible pity coming from him. Antonio was quite glad about that.

He was free to talk to someone amazing and then make a joke about the most idiotic things such as Antonio's puns. Lovino was beyond confused, watching Antonio's mood and behaviors jump so wildly. It was almost exhausting the way that he was switching emotions so quickly.

It was hard to keep up with, but Lovino shrugged it off and accepted it. Plus, the walk would be quite boring, awkward, and overall awful if Antonio wasn't talking.

Even if it involved awful puns that could make the strongest man want to fling himself into the sun.

"Did you hear about the shoe factory that burned down? Yeah...over a hundred soles were lost."

Lovino made what sounded like a demon being exorcised and covered his face, a faint smile cracking from his lips as he cringed, "Oh my god, that was awful! You're awful, ugh!"

His laughter met Antonio's ears like soft jingles. Even if it wasn't the most graceful of laughs, it sent him high into the sky knowing that he made him laugh and smile. It was a nice feeling that bubbled inside of him.

Yes, Lovino could say that he was growing a bit fond of Antonio. He found himself smiling a bit, listening to awful puns as they walked, purposely moving slower just to make the moment last. Everything was nice for a bit, at least.

As they got closer to Lovino's apartment, Antonio eventually holding onto his white cane so that he did not get lost. He normally never left far from his house or the campus so he did not need to use it often. Right now, the fact that he was using it flicked something on inside of him.

His shoulders slumped low and his face hidden in the folds of his jacket. His bubbling words seemed to quiet more and more and instead of corny jokes about shoes, he simply talked about school again which was a step back from where they had been previously. It caught Lovino off guard and he turned to him, wondering what had happened to cause yet another random swing.

Yet, that wasn't the blow that caused Antonio to spiral back into silence. No, what caused him to clamp his mouth shut was the moment that someone else walked by and four words slipped from him that pulled Antonio down from his high.

"Poor guy. He's blind."

He fell silent and held onto Lovino a bit tighter, silence controlling him. His whole day was crumbling on top of him and the blame belonged to four little words.

Lovino stopped for a moment and grabbed Antonio's wrist lightly, "Hey—you okay there? What happened to making terrible shoe puns and killing my brain cells?"

Antonio was frozen in place and he tried to shake it off with a smile, "Ha, it's nothing. Euh—how much further until we get to your apartment, Lovino?"

He didn't like the answer, it was obvious that he wasn't being completely honest. He wanted to ask if he was really okay and he wanted to figure out what had stopped him from being so irritatingly happy. Yet, he couldn't, he wouldn't. If he bugged Antonio for an answer, he would get annoyed and he would leave and Lovino wasn't sure how many more times he could handle that.

Why did he care?

Why all of a sudden did his interest spark in some artist he had met in the streets? Why was it that he befriended him of all people? More importantly, how did Antonio not shove him away already considering he either sassed him or made comments that plenty of people took to much to heart? It didn't make much sense to him. But here he was, and he was greatly enchanted, wanting to change his attitude ever so slightly to be a bit more open and as teasing as he wanted to be. Yet, a string from his heart tugged, and he reverted into something similar as Antonio.

While it wasn't for the same reasons, nor did the same agonizing thoughts antagonize the both. However, one small tick and suddenly he was feeling just as small as Antonio.

As much as he attempted to reach and to talk to Antonio, he didn't know what to say because his brain rejected everything else. As much as Lovino wanted to ask and make sure Antonio was fine, he couldn't say a thing. So, he decided not to and instead simply walked with Antonio, lowering his hand so that instead of Antonio holding his arm, he was holding his hand.

Antonio meanwhile, was trying to smile brightly again and keep the terrible puns going. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to do it. His hands tingled and he felt his lips press together tightly as he tried to get an answer out of silent Lovino who wouldn't speak. Did he see him? No, he couldn't, it was something so small and it didn't matter.

There was a short huff followed by a weak muttering of 'three minutes' and Antonio smiled a little wider. Three more minutes was great! His tingling hands calmed by a little and he took a deep breath trying to relax. The soft clacks of his cane to the ground remained the only thing to break the silence that they were left in. Nobody said a word, people around them fell silent. His head was up high in false pride and his nervous body twitched every few seconds but he hoped that nobody saw, and nobody did.

Except for the Italian man that stood next to him. He frowned, wondering if he would ever quite understand what went on in Antonio's mind. It scratched his heart and filled him with sorrow that flowed out like blood.

Antonio just wanted to get to the apartment fast. Frustration inflicted itself upon him and burned inside of him like a million flames that enveloped his soul into a fiery inferno. His mind was focused on one thing and that was to get to that blasted apartment before he lost it. He could feel the numbness taking over him and he hated it. His breath quickened and his heart sped up.

He hated the feeling of the object in his hand. It was like something that destroyed him. He felt needles stabbing through the handle and pricking him. It stung and burned. He wanted to throw the object as far away as he could simply loathing it far too much to consider it a necessity anymore.

He wanted to-

A pair of hands grabbed him and he snapped from his thoughts for a moment. Chocolate and spice, but the grip of their owner was light and soft, "Wow! Calm down there. Are you sure you're fine?"

"Hm? Y-yeah. Just thinking. Are we here?"

A soft and disappointed sigh rang out before a delicate hand grabbed Antonio's arm loosely. "Yeah...just follow me up and I'll get some rubbing alcohol for your arms. You shouldn't do that to them. You have me a damn heart attack."

It was only then that he realized he had been scratching at his arm the entire time.

Antonio sighed in frustration at the realization he had overreacted once again.

His slightly faded green eyes were filled with confusion, or perhaps it was his face. Whichever it was—he was confused, "But to be a visual artist, don't you need to be able to, well, see?"

The teacher smiled and leaned down to meet Antonio's height with excitement, "Ah, but Toni, that is the wonderful thing about this word. As humans, we are capable of pushing beyond our difficulties and becoming great! Esref was born without the ability to see, but he makes great paintings. Here, I brought with me an exact replica of one of his works and I want you to take it home and feel the texture. Feel this painting, trace each line, and you'll be able to see without your eyes."

The child laughed and nodded. He held his arms out wide for the teacher to put the painting in his hands. He had been feeling a bit blue lately since he had recently lost his eyesight. The wounds were not completely gone and he often had trouble walking, let alone drawing, but he was determined to continue on with art. He wanted to show his mama and papa that he was capable of doing things and that it wasn't their fault that he could no longer open his eyes to the yellow sun and blue skies. It had been nobody's fault—it was an accident was all.

To have his teacher give him hope in knowing that one day he would be able to paint, draw, and create like the other students was a miracle from heaven. He knew that his prayers had to have gotten to someone! Hugging the painting that the teacher put in his arms, he smiled and ran off crying and stuttering thank yous from afar. His teacher had no idea how happy this made him and how great of a hope that was left in the small child's heart.

Of course, he did not make it halfway across the schoolyard when he stopped and fell to his knees, still crying and trying to wipe the tears from his face. He placed his white cane down and grazed his fingers over the painting. He could feel each stroke and each bump. He smiled in joy and trailed his fingers along every part of the painting. His tears continued to fall and even though he knew that once he stood up he wouldn't know where he was going, he was content in the blissful thought of one day being able to be like Esref and paint even though he could not see the pretty blues of the sky, the shiny green of his brothers eyes or the sweet bubbling of hazel eyes that he had once seen when in Italy with his parents.

He felt like he could still see the red of his favorite blanket and the flag of his proud country. It was almost like he didn't have to worry about never being able to see again because he had great hope and visions for the future. He wanted to paint—he knew it. He felt it and he loved it. He wanted to be an artist; just like Esref, but he wanted to be an artist because he wanted for others to see the wonderful colors that perhaps one day—he would forget.

Antonio continued to cry, tears flooding down his red-tinted cheeks as he held the painting close. He was going to do things by himself and maybe then people wouldn't constantly feel sad for him! Perhaps soon, he'd be independent enough for the office people to stop saying he needed a caretaker. He like that thought. He'd be great and he would be amazing one day; the world would see.

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo would be remembered by all.

The sound of something sizzling greeted Antonio while the aroma of something—with paprika?—greeted him well. Antonio rubbed his arm, trying to erase the marks that he had left on his arm from scratching terribly. Lovino had cleaned them up. Thoe moments had been silent. He could feel them there and it disappointed him. With a sad sigh, he pulled his sleeve down and fell back on Lovino's couch with a heavy sigh. It had been about three hours since he had arrived and Lovino banned him from painting anymore because his house was beginning to smell like oil paints and other things and it was becoming a little too much for his liking. He 'wanted his house to smell like chocolate, not death' which made Antonio laugh a little.

Since it was still a little early and both had been hungry, Lovino agreed to cook for Antonio just this once. They had agreed that Antonio would have to pay Lovino with a basket of tomatoes each time he wanted him to cook for him from then on.

That had been another thing that Antonio has discovered; Lovino loved tomatoes as well. It was surprising because normally nobody ate tomatoes the way that they did and it was nice to have somebody who related. Lovino liked putting olive oil in sandwiches as well. Although considering that one was for good reasons and many people did it, Antonio wasn't as surprised.

Well, after the agreement, Lovino kicked Antonio onto the couch and told him to wait while he cooked food. Of course, this wasn't much of a shocker but it did leave Antonio anticipating whatever he would be served. After all, the entire time that Lovino cooked, he made comments on how his cooking was the best because it came from his hands and not an idiot like some other people. Assuming he meant him, Antonio chuckled lightly and listened to him. Honestly, his cooking could be better. He hardly made actual meals these days. In fact, the last thing he ate before the café and being at Lovino's apartment was fried Dino Nuggets from the back of the freezer.

It was filling but most likely not the healthiest option.

This was exactly why Lovino was cooking because it was bad enough he was forced to smell like old grease and cardboard cancer, but for Antonio to willingly smell like that—it was a sin against—something. Somewhere it had to be! It was unethical and completely outrageous! He was a grown man, not a two-year-old child! It was wrong and it needed to be stopped. He would not be eating freezer-burned dino nuggets on his watch!

Of course, Antonio was dying of hunger and sitting in the kitchen wasn't really making things any better. His stomach was eating at itself and he was miserable not having a meal or any wine after painting as much as he did. He had nearly finished too, but Lovino was still upset about it so he had to stop. This meant a large struggle trying to remember where he had been when last painting once he started again. He pressed his folded arms down onto his stomach and tried not to think about the immense pain that tormented his stomach that was pleading for some sort of nourishment to keep it from cannibalizing itself. Oh, why did cooking have to take so long?

Lovino looked over at him and rolled his eyes, "Oh calm yourself, you big idiot. You're not going to die! Plus, food is almost ready."

Antonio flopped over and hugged the pillow, miserable, hungry, and wanting to take a shower, "But Lovinooooo! You're taking so long and I have paint all over me."

Lovino nodded, clicking his tongue and facing Antonio, "Yeah, I know that. I'm still going to hit you over the head if any of my furniture is stained so pray to Mary that you didn't get a drop of paint on my couch."

"Mierda!"

Lovino smirked and turned off the stove as Antonio frantically felt around the couch trying to figure out if he had spilled paint or not. In reality, Lovino wouldn't smack him. It was stupid Antonio and he couldn't see. Plus, he was technically keeping him in his house so if any paint was spilled, he wasn't going to throw a fit about it. That was unless Antonio got a lot everywhere.

In that case, he'd personally castrate the moron—and with a rusty spoon.

He walked over, placing the dishes on the table along with the food for the evening. His lips pursed as he did and he looked up nervously at Antonio who appeared to be drooling all over the floor. While flattered, Lovino preferred he put that saliva to breaking down his food which he looked down to with shaky hands, "Turtle Dork, food is ready. Do you want me to—"

"No! I've got it, " Antonio interjected. Rapidly standing up, he started feeling around the room to get to the table. Though his white cane was seated on the coffee table, he did not pick it up and walked over clumsily without it. He laughed each time he bumped into something but eventually made it to the table. He pulled the seat out, sat down, and smiled as if he had not just hit his hip on twenty different objects walking six feet to the table. He simply smiled and placed his hands on his lap.

Lovino scoffed, "You're such an idiot, you know that?"

Antonio smiled wide, proud of himself. He was a puppy, constantly doing these things and becoming so proud of small achievements when he could have asked for help. He could have asked for help, and he should have, but he wanted to be independent. After all, should he ask for help, he would be labeled needy. Antonio didn't need that; he especially didn't need that from the one friend that he had at this point. His stomach growled in hunger, protesting the abuse that was being inflicted upon it and Antonio laughed lightly before biting his lip wondering how long it had been since he had dinner with a friend.

He was fond of the feeling. It was almost like perhaps, he was wanted after all. He felt strange because Gilbert, Francis, Bella—they had all loved him and made him feel wanted, but somehow this was different. He wasn't entirely sure how it was, but he knew that the way that he spoke to Lovino and felt prouder when he heard a strained laugh from him made him extremely happy. He liked the thought and reached his hand out to search for food. However, it was quickly smacked away with a certain Italian cursing and telling him that they had to say grace first and that then he would feed him since he was a guest. Antonio laughed but whined at the stinging feeling on his hand, calling Lovino cruel for not just telling him. He could be so rude to him! Then again, if he suddenly started acting nice, Antonio might have pushed him away an ran off screaming in fear of this not being Lovino. As much as the insults were rude, to him they were just as good as any compliment coming from the salty culinary student. He rubbed his hand while bowing his head and listening to the strange words that escaped Lovino's mouth.

When was the last time he prayed or went to church?—he couldn't remember? Did he even have the golden cross that his father had given him? The prayer still slips past his lips. Words that were comforting in the strangest of ways. However, it did not compare to the moment that Lovino whispered softly.

'Open up opportunities for Antonio.'

It was brief but the fact that it was said made Antonio feel all the better. The good feeling that filled him with warmth made him absolutely giddy but also a bit scared because Antonio realized a few things. He thought back to his friends and how they would surely laugh at him right now for not listening to the worlds that they had said to him before when they warned him of the coming of this. The way the feeling grew in his stomach and suddenly he was sitting there thinking about him and smiling as he did.

When he took the first bite of the food that he had been served, it was clearer than water. Antonio closed his eyes, scared, feeling sick to his stomach because suddenly Lovino wasn't just a muse anymore, he was his muse, or at least he wanted him to be. Oh, how he wanted him to be his muse.

"Hey dummy, how's the food? You're too quiet."

He could hear Francis and Gilbert and even Bella teasing him about this silly development of feelings. It was unfair, for he knew that things were complicated. There were so many things he did know and the things that he did know seemed so unimportant; it was discouraging. He smiled, nevertheless.

With a small chuckle, he nodded and took another bite, "Your food is so good I was stunned. I was convinced that I saw St. Peter at the gates."

Lovino rolled his eyes, "You're such a dramatic kiss-ass."

"Passionate!"

"Idiotic."

"Aw, that's not fair," he pouted, trying to give a serious look only to fail and burst out in giggles. It was absolutely odd and Antonio didn't seem to be able to stop. He only continued to giggle like a schoolgirl and take forkfuls of food. He knew that he had flattered Lovino just by the lack of harsher insults which made him giddy. He leaned on the table slightly and smirked deviously as he did, "Oh and Lovino, I think that you're attractive just as you are. There was no need to lie to me about your appearance."

This caught the other's attention and he choked a bit, flustered and shocked while trying to play it cool, "Took you long enough, airhead, how' you figure it out? Did you ask someone?"

Antonio shook his head, amused that he thought that he could have hidden something like this for so long. After all, he had to pay attention to details, "I've been touching your face for hours since I have been painting you. Also, you've put your hand on me a couple of times; if you were really what you said you were, you'd be oddly out of proportion. Your face seemed a bit off the first time, I mean, it would have been okay I guess, but it seemed quite thin and your neck wasn't thick enough to belong to a body as you described. Plus, your hands are calloused, yes, but they are also well taken care of and seemed rather, smooth. This was also something that didn't fit. Honestly, it was your voice that gave it away. You have a deep sound but not the right kind of deep to belong to a body that large. At least, I don't think so, unless you were perhaps training your voice which would be so cool! I think you're smaller than I am, much thinner too, but you still have some meat on your bones, and your walk is an arrogant one—"

"Sometimes, you scare the living hell out of me. For the record, I'm kinda chubby and I hate it. Still, you guessed that crap on point. Are you sure you're not faking it and you can see me because you are terrifyingly accurate."

Antonio shook his head, clapping at his success. He loved it when he guessed a person's features correctly! It was always the walk that he had to think about. A person's walk said a lot about them and it took quite a bit of paying attention. Lovino's walk seemed like it was one foot crossing the other so that he swayed and gave the image of confidence to everyone.

Most of all, the walk often gave a hint of thoughts towards him. He was content to find that Lovino seemed to walk indifferently around him and treat him as a true human.

Could anyone truly blame him for that? He didn't know what he would do if he were to find that Lovino one day though him a nuisance and wanted him gone. He had grown so close to him in the while they had gotten to know one another and it worried him because what if he got annoying or what if he was too much and he left? He knew that face more than anything else he had ever known. He knew where his chin pointed and where his jawline was strong, it was all etched into his mind so that when he painted, he knew what strokes to make and what places needed more care.

Knowing Antonio, he would forget the contours by the next day and need to start touching his face once again.

"Alright, back to eating, suck up."

"You're an excellent cook, you know. I don't think I've ever had anything this good."

Lovino flushed red and poked at his plate, "Thanks. But, it's not that big of a dish," he confessed.

Antonio shook his head and swooned as he took a bite of the cannoli that was next to him, "No, I'm serious! This is really good and is this cannoli? Mm, I think I've finally died and gone to heaven."

Lovino went even more red, smiling faintly as he looked down, "You're such a drama queen. Don't make such a big deal about it. It's food, not gold. If you love the food so much, why don't you marry it, you crazy weirdo?"

He smiled, knowing that Lovino was embarrassed and frankly, he was enjoying it, "Mm, I do like the food."

Lovino sat back, finished with his food, "Good, I'll have that potato in my kitchen be your best man."

Antonio smiled and clasped his hands together, "Ah, but I was hoping you'd be my best man! It would mean so much."

He snorted and rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his water, "How about, I crash your wedding and cook your best man?"

Their conversation continued, back and forth between who would be the best man and what food they would and would not have. It steered away from their normally sad conversations. Lovino was very against french fries and claimed that it would be disrespectful on the best man's behalf. The conversation itself had no merit whatsoever and consisted of random punches to Antonio's shoulder every time that he said something ridiculously stupid (which seemed to be often).

He had even offered to bring an entire can of mixed vegetables to show that he was fond of food diversity which made Lovino punch him again. Yet, he continued, offering to bring pies and all kinds of foods to show the others food that he wasn't 'foodist'. Antonio had never laughed harder and Lovino never cringed harder. It was an interesting thing for the both of them. However, time passed, hours flew, and the last bit of sunlight was fading from outside. The sun set and soon they both realized how late it was, Antonio trying to push away offers for Lovino to get him a cab.

He didn't know why he did it, it was a habit that he could not stop. He pushed away offers for help with a smile claiming that it was okay when he knew well that it wasn't. He was fine and he didn't need someone to aid him with things that he could do himself. Plus, he was sure that he could find his way home using his phone and going on Google Maps.

Lovino didn't seem too pleased about him doing things such as this all alone, "I'm getting you a cab."

Antonio shook his head, a nervous feeling taking over his stomach. His mind switched to shut down mode, his entire demeanor growing a lot more hesitant and panicked. He was pitying him, he was acting just like the rest of the people that he had met, "No, I'm fine—really."

Lovino wouldn't take no for an answer and shook his head in frustration as he washed the dishes from their dinner, "Antonio, it is really late and I'm getting you a cab. You can argue with me all you want but I'm getting you a cab. You said it yourself, you've never been to this part of town and I don't care if you have Google Maps. It is late out. It's either I get you a cab or I walk you home. Now, I am sure that the last thing you want is to walk home with me having to cling to you. I am getting you a cab, capisce? Now sit down and have some wine or something before I get you out of here"

"Yeah. . ."

"Good."

Antonio sat there, defeated and honestly feeling a little discouraged. He knew that Lovino meant well but the feeling in his mind told him that it was nothing but pity and it made him feel sick to his stomach. He hated the thought of Lovino being just like that and not caring about him actually but rather wanting to send false senses of hope and lead him on into thinking that their friendship was real. He pitied him and only wanted to make him feel like someone cared. At least, that was what his mind told him.

It was an awful nagging feeling that argued with his logic. Logic said that Lovino was worried, which was nice, but irrationality gave him luring whispers that tainted his senses and left him believing that nobody could care and that there was only pity.

It was upsetting to feel like this and what he hated was that it came and went. Sometimes he felt fine with little offers for help, other days, he wanted to scream at anyone that offered him help. He hated himself more than anything else these days. He lay down, reaching out for the wine and upon feeling it, poured himself some and took a giant gulp. He wanted to forget that horrible feeling and be happy. While he knew that alcohol was a depressant, he was clinging to the nearest thing that he often went to. He'd forget about the irrationality and then he could accept a cab ride from Lovino without wanting to scream and shout.

When he finished that glass, he poured more, downing it just as fast. He repeated the process twice more, the feeling of the delicious liquid running down his throat.

As he reached to refill his glass again, the bottle was snatched abruptly from him. He knew who had taken it from him and though slightly irritated, he was fine. It wasn't his wine anyway, he shouldn't have been drinking so much anyway while at someone else's house.

Lovino was in shock. He turned when he had seen Antonio down the entire wine glass and it concerned him making him wonder how many glasses he had gulped down like that. He didn't expect him to drink it like it was water in the middle of a stranded desert—just a glass. He frowned slightly, not sure what was going on with Antonio but he didn't like it.

It gave his stomach a sickly feeling and his entire body goosebumps. He did not say a word as he took the bottle locking it away while his heart pounded mercilessly against his chest. Heavy breaths escaping him and a small twinge of fear.

No more words were said between them, Antonio sat in silence, too ashamed to do anything. He ruined such a good mood too. Eventually, Lovino made a small grunt noise so that they could walk downstairs and get outside to wait for the cab. They remained silent as they waited, the cold breeze being the only noise besides faint laughter from afar and the occasional car that passed by. Besides that, there was no noise and the tension grew.

This wasn't the same silence from the park. This one sank into Antonio like venom and it tortured him some. He was aware of what his decision had been and the worst part is that he had no regrets for drinking the alcohol. His regrets came from making a fool of himself. He wanted to do the same when he got home; open the cupboard to the welcoming Vino Tinto and possibly if he still had some Coke, Kalimotxo.

The silence continued, a piercing and loud one that was good for driving a man mad. There was no peace, no lovely grass. Instead, they sat on the cold cement steps as cats meowed, sirens wailed, and drunkards passed by. Lovino cringed each time they did.

Antonio was the one to break it. It was too silent for him and he didn't want to end on bad terms with the guy, even if it was more or an awkwardness than anything. His voice was faint, "I could have walked..."

Lovino snapped his head towards him, now angry, "Are you going to go on about that? Antonio stop it already you idiot! You couldn't have and I wouldn't have let you. Why is it such a big deal to you anyway?"

"Do you pity me?"

The question was so simple, to most it wasn't a big deal. Yet, with the way Antonio bit his lip and slumped his shoulders low, Lovino was left frozen in place. He stared in shock wondering if he had made him feel bad with his words and actions.

Antonio sniffed and repeated once again, "Do you pity me?"

"No, I don't pity you. What kind of question is that?"

"Do you hate me?"

"No. Antonio, what are you getting at?"

He didn't answer him. He only stood up, grabbing his things and dusting himself off, "Bueno, that was all I wanted to know. Thank you for the amazing meal today," he stated with a smile, "We can go to my house next time if you'd like."

"Whatever you want, nerd," he gave a forced smile, but he was glad that Antonio wasn't planning to end everything because of a strange reaction.

Antonio's smile grew by just the slightest, "I want to be good friends with you."

The cab came a few moments later. Antonio got in, Lovino handing him his things. And just before he left, Lovino told Antonio to not drink.

His voice was strange, and it confused him for a moment, but he agreed and promised to do not such thing. His internal plans of drinking himself into a stupor quickly faded or got pushed down for later. Lovino cared, it was comforting.

Yet, as Antonio rode home, he couldn't help but feel slight discomfort. For some unknown reason, he simply couldn't believe that Lovino didn't pity him slightly. He had to—especially after the wine incident. Everyone pitied him, even his own friends. No matter how big of a liking he had on Lovino in the future, it would remain a fact in his mind that he pitied him. He wasn't different from the rest of the world—so why did he like him so much?

'Tell me, Antonio, will you ever allow yourself to fall in love?'

'One day, but that day isn't today and it may not be tomorrow. I just know that it is one day.'