~Grigio~

"To be blind is not miserable; not to be able to bear blindness, that is miserable"

- John Milton

"What happened to your eye?"

"I got into a dumb fight with Romeo. It's nothing."

"I know you're lying, man. I know that it's not fights with your siblings. It's not cool what is going on. Why won't you let me help you guys? Help them?"

"You can't help those who don't want to be helped. No matter how hard you try. They always end up the same."

"Then let me help you. Please. You're everything to me, man."

"...I'm sorry."

How much did he adore him? He wasn't sure.

He just knew that every time his fingertips grazed Lovino's skin, Antonio saw the stars and the world for a fleeting moment more. It brought him more joy than he ever knew. This man—this man was all he would ever paint. Beautiful in every way, Antonio couldn't help it.

Each embrace, he soaked in those sweet Mediterranean herbs mixing with sweet chocolate. He didn't understand how he could always smell so wonderful. Each sweet caress and his senses went wild, exploding and burning—filling him with more than he ever knew that he was capable of having.

Intertwining their fingers, he beamed at the way that their hands fit like two puzzle pieces. His heart could only handle so much of his sweet joy that sparked and lit up every part of him with a flame.

Around Lovino, his world painted itself bright reds and yellows, lighting him up with life and a fire that he could not understand. Lovino's voice was a paintbrush that filled his bleak world with life again. Gentle strokes, fast ones, soft and hard—they all made him feel warm and brought back the flittering memories of a blue sky and deep rouges that he adored and felt whenever he was around him. It didn't matter what he did, for he was his Lovino.

A sky of red and orange—it glittered and shone like never before. Each gentle touch and laugh that he got from him tinted his skies into gorgeous hues of the sunset that kissed Antonio's brain.

He could kiss those sugar sweet lips a dozen times and his heart would still swell with the same passion that he felt the first time that he did. He could caress his skin and hold him close for hours on end and his heart would still race as it did whenever he was near him.

Even now, as he held Lovino, he felt ready to take on the world. He had no fears and he was whole. Every time that he spoke to Lovino—he knew.

He knew that this man would never see the broken piece of him that everyone seemed to focus so much on.

He knew that this man would be the one who he would spend every day of his life kissing and adoring.

He knew that this man was his.

"Lovino. Time to wake up, amor," he reached in search of his shoulder and shook it gently.

"No, I don't have to do anything until later this afternoon, I'm sleeping," he groaned, arms wound around Antonio.

Moving his hand up, he felt Lovino's hair and ruffled it gently, "Mm, well I have class in an hour, so I have to get up."

Another groan came from the small figure embracing him tightly. Flopping his head on Antonio's chest, Lovino sighed, "Screw class. It's only some money coming out of your pocket."

Truth be told, Antonio would have willingly stayed. However, he could not do that at the moment. Shaking his head, he got up, Lovino groaning even louder as he did.

"You suck."

He put his hands gently to Lovino's cheeks and smiled, "Is that your way of saying you want me to fail my project? You know, the one of your beautiful face?"

This captured his attention and he shot up, letting go, standing up straight, and looking at Antonio with wide eyes, "You finished it? Wait! You're presenting today? Get up then! Get ready and look presentable! You look like a trash can! Eugh!"

He burst into laughter and shook his head, "I look like a trash can? So loving of you."

"Stop complaining, nerd. Come on so I can get you some proper clothes! As if I am going to allow you to go out looking like Shrek."

Antonio stumbled a bit as Lovino pulled him by his wrists, more enthusiastic than Antonio had ever really noted him to be. Somehow, it painted pink into his skies making the world all the more beautiful.

"What on Earth could painting ever give you in life that you don't already have?"

"Sight."

He hated critiques with a burning passion. He was already very insecure about what he did and he really didn't feel strong in what he did. Then there was the fact that he could never really critique others work. It was embarrassing to sit there and then expect something great to come from his if he could not understand what others said about him. His fingernails gently grazed his skin over and over as he sat in class.

He listened to everyone as they told the stories behind their paintings and then proceeded to get comments on what went well and if needed, anything that they could improve upon.

It was such a delicate and unimportant thing, but to him, it was a death sentence to walk up and watch everyone comment on everything wrong with his work. He wasn't sure whether this was all artists or if it was simply him overreacting and panicking far too much. However, regardless of what it was, it the thought itself sent thousands of shivers up his spine and millions of pessimistic outcomes despite his normally rational mind being there to relax him.

Somehow, all of his senses withered away and left him vulnerable to everything and anything. That was the worst part.

"Antonio Fernandez, you're up."

His breath hitched, the world freezing in that moment. The silence pierced his ears and he clamped down on his arm, nails digging into soft flesh and molding it to his own desires.

"Antonio?"

Fingernails pried off, small red piercings adding to the many that littered his arm, "Ah yes. I'll be right up."

Feeling around for his covered painting, he gently pulled it to him, taking deep breaths. This would be fine. He had come dressed (courtesy of Lovino) nicely and his look radiated all of the confidence that he himself lacked from the rolled up rouge sleeves to his crisp pants. It gave him a bold and mature look despite the small and fearful form that he was inside.

No matter how many times he went up and got compliments, he couldn't help but feel that they were sugarcoated. After all, who wanted to be the one to crush the blind man's dreams? Yet, he desired the truth and was unsure if he was truly receiving it. What would sugarcoated lies do for him besides fill him with false hope and the illusion of improvement?

No matter how many times he got compliments, Antonio still was the small child he was ages ago; he was small, afraid, and terribly alone.

But he wasn't.

Thoughts of Lovino fluttered to his mind and tickled his lips to a curve. As he walked up, gentle taps to the floor, sharp words filled his mind and brought him amusement and relief. How could he have forgotten the one he painted? The one who made him feel all the less lonely and all the freer?

How could he have forgotten his muse?

Placing his painting on the easel, Antonio pulled the cover from it and let the class gaze at it. Of course, there were soft murmurs and they all filled him with cruel anticipation for his judgment.

Inhale. Exhale.

He was ready.

Antonio could not see his painting, nor was he able to when he painted it, but he was skilled at organization so that he could work things out. Eyes stared up at his painting and the way the black and reds of the background scratched and seemed to hiss. The way burning chains wrapped around the eyes of one grey person as if holding him prisoner. Eyes landed on how that person held another, one of gold and hazel and the way the chains seemed to wither as soon as the golden light touched them. Most of all, eyes landed on the fact that the grey person smiled despite the chains burning into his eyes and the way that he cupped the face of the person of gold and hazel.

The class gave their ideas of what the story behind his painting was, a smile twitching as he listened to them all and the imaginative ideas that erupted from them. Anything from whimsical to Biblical. He patiently waited to explain the story behind his project.

When the class fell silent, his heart raced and pounded from his chest while his stomach threatened to fly upward.

"You asked me to paint a story. So—this is the story of a man. Life hasn't been easy to him, but others did not understand that. He came from a good home and he had a good life. But one day, he lost the ability to find light in things. He wasn't sure when it happened, but it did. One day, he couldn't find the light. People around him left, even if they didn't mean to; it just happened. He was lost. He wanted approval despite being held back. He wanted satisfaction. Then, when he expected it the least, he found the most amazing person instead. Someone who made him want to be better. Someone who he hurt, but wanted to fix. This person was beautiful and he didn't think that anyone else could ever remove his chains and tint his skin gold the way this person did."

Silence. The most agonizing of loudnesses.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"I painted the story of a broken man searching for approval and finding the light instead."

The silence wrapped through the room once again, filling his stomach with butterflies and his throat with dust that scorched him and removed his words.

'I have painted the story of me'

Had he put the painting backward? Had it not been as good as he thought it had been? Had he messed up somewhere and splotched or peeled the paint?

"It's gorgeous. The symbolism is amazing and the colors only emphasize that even more."

"The second guy is in a much lighter texture compared to the rest, did you use watercolors? I love the mixed media. It really adds a softer tone."

"Your background is blended well. The only thing I'd say is maybe emphasize the first guy, I guess. The grey blends a lot with the black and red background and he's a bit harder to notice. Other than that, it's amazing and your contrast is amazing."

"The rough texturization slowly moving to a much softer one is really pleasing to me and I love it."

The words came in and suddenly, Antonio felt high. He didn't get frustrated with himself at the critiques for once, accepting and keeping them in mind. His body relaxed and his hands moved to his sides rather than clutching each other and gripping like the world would pull him apart otherwise.

"Is that you?"

His cheeks tinted a darker color and he rubbed his neck gently, coughing as he gave a small, bashful nod. Had it been that obvious? He supposed that it could be the fact that most of them when attempting to paint anything that inspired them, inserted themselves into their paintings. Still, the thought brought him no less a wave of flustered words that caught in his throat and refused to go down.

What more, he was nervous of anyone possibly capturing the fact that it was clear that even with his eyes indicating the emotion that he felt in the painting, the fact that he was beaming and the way the golden seeped into skin indicated just how he felt.

That was exactly how he felt. Every gentle touch or word from Lovino sent a sort of golden warmth into his being and it was electrifying, but oh so satisfying.

"Thank you, Antonio."

His breath released and the world was calm.

As he walked back, a sense of pride overwhelmed him and he welcomed the unfamiliar, but wonderful feeling of satisfaction in his completed work.

He sat there in silence, not feeling awkward at not being able to critique other people for once. He only thought of the sweet music that danced in his ears and the hundreds of tears that threatened to spill to the floor from the overwhelming hit of senses.

The unfamiliarity replaced with the sweet embrace of fiery parts of his mind that he had long since forgotten. He had been far too numb. Yet now, these emotions poured out and exploded violently in a burst of connection. Antonio understood and it was wonderful. While he was aware that he would find himself numb again eventually and that this was most likely a temporary sensation, he ravished the feeling.

As soon as the class ended, Antonio ran out, cheering and jumping into the air feeling younger—feeling liberal and limitless. He didn't care that he didn't know where he was going (or at least he didn't care quite yet). The most important thing to him right now was that he was free.

Antonio was absolutely, positively...

Free.

He walked up the steps with a dish in hand, a smile on his face. His white cane wobbled a bit in his arms as he struggled to balance the dish while managing to walk properly. His painting on top didn't exactly make his struggles any simpler to manage.

Though, he didn't mind as much as he normally did. In fact, his beatific demeanor remained so strong that the world around him could crash, burn, and crumble, but he would still remain blissful in the chaos. At least, he strived to reach for that and hoped that he could manage such a thing if any negativity were to stomp on his day.

Finally reaching the floor of his destination, Antonio let a breath of relief and made his way across the hall. His mouth moved without sound, only reflecting silent numbers.

"Wait for me! You move like the ground crumbles under you, eugh."

Antonio chuckled softly and waited for Lovino, brushing some loose hair back from his face, "I'm sorry, 'Vino! I'll wait. I'm just really thrilled today. I actually feel like I did a good job on my project!"

Lovino gave a gruntled shake of the head and brushed his shoulder against Antonio's as he made his way past him, "You always do good. Stop being so down on yourself, goodness. You have talent, Toni. The next time I have to remind you, I'm shoving my boot up where the sun doesn't shine."

"Kinky," Antonio teased, causing him to get a whack from Lovino across the head.

Stifled laughs reached Antonio's ears. It was all the proof that he needed.

Lovino took the dish from Antonio, poking his chest with one finger while a childish grin spread on his face, "I am a good Catholic boy! I made good choices! I floss daily! What did I do to end up with a stinky Spaniard with no fashion sense?"

Antonio shrugged slightly, his classic dopey grin still plastered on his face as he stood there, walking in only when Lovino opened the door to his apartment.

His lips curved into a wicked grin though, and once he put his white cane down, he made his way to the kitchen where he already knew that Lovino was, wrapping his arms around him, "I honestly don't know. But I know that it clearly wasn't when you asked if I was mute when we first met."

Lovino whacked Antonio's shoulder and scoffed, almost convincing Antonio that he wasn't amused. But the small laugh he let out told him otherwise, "Oh haha. I'm sorry that my bl—dumb ass didn't know you would end up being a dumb man who doesn't carry his white cane around even though he needs it!"

Antonio flinched slightly, his grip loosening slightly and heart pausing. It quickly melted away, but his arms still held him much looser than before, "I don't like people staring is all."

The room grew colder for a moment and Antonio could sense it. Pushing the subject away, he let go of Lovino and felt around the counter for the old radio that was always there. He needed a way to change the subject.

"Anto…"

"It's just a preference. I know my way around well enough," he quickly said, turning on the old radio, greeted by old Mexican songs thanks to Antonio who had found the station a week before and refused to change it because he was fascinated by Mexico and wanted to visit it one day.

Before Lovino could open his mouth to protest, Antonio pulled him into his arms once again and sang horribly, moving quickly with Lovino.

"Yo no pude suponerme lo que sucedio!"

"Oh my gosh, Anto…"

"Era un juegito entre tu y yo!"

Lovino gently hit his fist against Antonio's chest before moving along with him, shaking his head. He knew that he was only changing the subject, but somehow, he fell for Antonio's random acts every single time.

"De inocentes amiguitos jugando al amor," Antonio spun with Lovino, laughing gently, kissing his knuckles and moving to the playful and lively beat.

Humming softly, Lovino moved with him, giving up and just moving with him, a smile crawling to his lips when Antonio began to press kisses to his face, the entire thing tinting red while he was at it.

"You can't just dance with me to avoid these conversations all of the time, you know," Lovino stated through the peppered kiss and shy glances up at each other.

"You haven't stopped me from doing so yet," Antonio joked, knowing well what he was doing. Secretly, he had hoped that Lovino would not question his random bursts into dancing despite knowing that he was much smarter than that.

It wasn't that he feared the topic—he feared the assumptions that came from the topic. Lovino had the habit of over-analyzing situation. He knew that much from the time he took to be Lovino's friend and then the progression that led to where their relationship was now. He knew that he meant well, but every time that he interrogated him and asked him about things or made it seem like every slight mention of being blind was some sort of code for being upset, that was what upset him.

Lovino must have given up because both were simply dancing to the song. The nice thing about dancing with Lovino was that it didn't take too long before Antonio forgot what he had been thinking of before, only absorbed in the sweetness that was the moments of gentle caresses and fast steps to the side as they both tried not to fall over from clumsiness. Then there was Lovino who quickly got much too caught up in the sweetness that was Antonio's gentle touch.

The best part of it all though was that Antonio could pull Lovino close and lean in, cupping Lovino's face, delicately brushing his lips against his—

"Would this be a bad time to say surprise…?"

Both immediately stopped dancing, Lovino screeching as he pulled away and Antonio standing there confused for a moment.

"Surprise, big brother!"

"Feliciano, I'm only going to ask this once. How the hell did you get into my apartment? Also, why are you here?"

Antonio's brows furrowed in confusion.

A small whine filled the air, "I came to surprise you with Romeo! We both missed you. But uh, I see this is a bad time. And you still leave a spare key under the rug!"

"No shit," Lovino fell silent and Antonio stood there for a bit, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do.

"Wait. Did you say you and Romeo?"

"...yes."

"Feliciano!"

The bickering began and Antonio wrung his hands together, feeling his hands around as he searched for the couch to sit down until all of it had passed over. He wasn't quite sure what was going on and he didn't really want to know either. Or rather, he didn't want to get involved and end up bruised because Lovino threw a punch or the two lunged at each other.

"Who are you?"

"Huh," Antonio turned his head to the voice, unsure if he had really heard someone though the bickering of Lovino and this Feliciano.

"Who are you? Are you like, Lovino's new boyfriend," an amused tone cooed. It was childish; playful and airy. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it at first.

Clearing his throat, he nodded and put his hands on his lap, "Euh, yes. Who are you?"

The voice laughed brightly and Antonio heard a thump, he quickly sunk back into the couch, hoping that he was facing the correct direction, "I'm Romeo! Lovino's little brother. Couldn't you tell from the dashing looks and the random strand of untameable hair?"

Antonio froze for a moment, sinking further back into the couch. Small jumbled sounds escaping his lips before Lovino stepped in.

"Romeo, Feliciano!"

He hadn't noticed that the bickering had ended. Though, he was rather grateful that it had. He shuffled a bit from where he sat, flinching a little when a hand went on his shoulder, his posture sinking slightly before the sweet and familiar aroma gently embraced his senses and relaxed him.

A loud sigh broke through the room before vanishing, leaving Antonio to hear nothing but his own breaths and heartbeat slamming in is ears, "Feli, Romeo, this is Anto-"

"Ooh! The cute guy you keep talking about over the phone?"

"Shut up!"

A small smile appeared on his face and he reached out, grabbing Lovino's hand when he found it and giggling like the schoolboy that he was inside, "You talk about me, 'Vino?"

The silence was all the answer he needed, the entire thing turning every part of him into small butterflies that flapped around and threatened to burst him. His smile sparkled and his soul sang out, not knowing what else to do.

"Mhm! All of time-oW!"

Lovino huffed and Antonio shook his head, standing up and pulling Lovino close, "Well, I'm glad you do."

He was shoved away, a small laugh filling the air as he fell back on the couch. Though, it didn't take long before he fell silent. As thrilled as he was to meet Lovino's family, he wasn't sure if he was prepared for it. A dozen what ifs ran through the cracks in his mind that sent doubt into the strongest parts of him.

"As I was saying before you little animals butt in is that this is Antonio."

Feliciano chirped in joy, "The painter, si? I'd love to see your work and show you some of mine one day!"

Antonio was flattered, he really was, but he raised his brow gently as he nudged Lovino, almost as if to ask 'does he know?'. Perhaps Lovino had told him and he simply forgot.

When he didn't get an answer from him, Antonio nodded his head, "Yeah, I'd like that. But, fair warning, I may need someone to describe your work to me unless you don't mind me touching your work, haha."

"Hm? Why—"

Lovino quickly grabbed Antonio's arm, nearly squeezing it off in the process, "He's just really interested in art!"

Strike one

Antonio raised his brow, a bit shocked. His stomach squeezed and took a small step back, "No, Feliciano was it? I'm sorry. Did Lovino not tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Anto, don't"

Strike Two

Oh.

He was ashamed of him, wasn't he?

"I'm blind."

The room filled with a piercing silence that rammed in Antonio's ears and tugged at every part of him. Scratching at his back and laughing in his ear, it reminded him that no matter what, he was always chained and blindfolded. Nothing could ever change that. Not even the brightest light.

"Oh."

Antonio pursed his lips. He knew that it still wasn't very obvious, so he didn't blame him. But Lovino hadn't told him?

All of the confidence and freedom he had felt seemed to crash down and wouldn't come back. He was so small. It was the largest disappointment that he had ever felt.

Pulled along, he followed limply, the world of bright orange and red fading grey. How could something so wonderful fade away so fast? He didn't seem to care much anymore. He hit his shoulder on the small frame that led them to the kitchen.

He wasn't sure if he was being rather hypocritical or not. After all, he was the one who constantly did everything that he could to hide the fact that he was blind. Yet, it felt so sour coming from Lovino. Wasn't he supposed to help him move past that?

It was understandable if Feliciano had by chance forgotten the little bit, but for him to not be told at all? It made him feel sick to his stomach. He was unimportant and just some trinket to be appreciated and fawned over until the public came along.

It was family! How could he have not told family of all people? It didn't require an in-depth explanation of some tragic backstory, all it required was for him to not seem like he was ashamed of him for being blind. Just a simple note—nothing much. Was it too much to ask for?

No, perhaps he was the one who was overreacting. It wasn't anything big, right? It was nothing—so why on Earth did it feel like a huge big deal to him? Why did he feel as if the entire world was crumbling around him?

Pulling his arm back, his glossy eyes, seeing nothing, seemed to stare into the deepest and most vulnerable parts of Lovino.

"Why didn't you tell him?"

"You're too hard on yourself about it."

"I'm not," his voice raised ever-so-slightly, "And even if I was! You should have at least said something, even if it wasn't a lot!"

He wasn't angry, he was embarrassed and he was pathetic. He already knew that he wasn't exactly the best person to have around. He was aware of all of the things that he was guilty of and all of the people that he had hurt. He was so pathetically low.

Lovino growled in anger, "I didn't need you overreacting!"

"And this?"

The accusation in his words stung Lovino sharply and besides the click of his tongue, there was no sound except for the cracking sound of old music playing on the radio. Antonio's brows furrowed, anguish taking over him as he slumped from his straight and confident posture.

"I just didn't want you scratching at your arm again," his voice raised, "You think I don't notice that you do it every time your anxious or frustrated? Even now, I know the scabs on your arm are new. I didn't need them overreacting and making you do that and adding even more! I hate seeing you do that! It makes me feel awful! It's like you don't even know you're doing it! But from the beginning, that's the one thing that has pissed me off and made me worry the most. And-And I'm sorry, okay? I know I should have told them something and I know I made a stupid move back there, but I didn't! I fucked up. I'm just so afraid of anything that might happen to you—there, I said it! I'm so afraid I'll say the wrong thing sometimes. It doesn't even have to be about you not being able to see. I'm afraid I'll say something mean that you will take seriously or that I will just be exhausted mentally and you'll think I hate you! I didn't know how to tell them without one of them treating you like you can't do anything on your own! I know you worry about me and whatever, but I don't think that you realize that I worry too," he cried out at him, forgetting the other people in the house, "I'm sorry. I know it was stupid, but sometimes I feel like I can't ever make you happy enough and it hurts me."

Lovino continued, but Antonio didn't hear him. He was much too lost in his own thoughts and vexation. He was a mess, wasn't he? The thought sent a rippling wave of nausea to his stomach. They had only started this relationship, were they already running into a major issue—one the first day?

"Maybe we jumped into this too fast?"

The room lost any and all warmth that it once contained.

"Don't start, Anto. We had a good time, yes? We've gotten to know each other, yes? We got into this relationship and we aren't letting it collapse right now because of one little thing."

Why couldn't he see that he was a mess? He shook his head, "Lovino, look at me. I'm a mess. I'm such a mess and I let my own anxieties fall on you. I can't even see! What good am I to you? I can't drive you places or take you to the movies or do anything that normal couples do! I can't even paint you smoothly! I have to texturize everything so I know that I am not messing up! Even when I think I'm over it and that I can live life without a fear, I get anxious and I'm like this again! I'm no good at anything and I'm small all over again."

The tears collected in his eyes as the words came out, his body shaking and every part of him left open and vulnerable.

"I'm not a good man for you. I'm just a stupid painter with far too many doubts and pains."

A gentle hand went on his cheek and a thumb wiped away the only tear that managed to slip.

"Don't you dare cry," his voice was commanding, but the tone was soft, "Anto, listen to me right now because I'm only going to say this once."

He nodded limply.

"You are amazing and you do not need your sight to prove that. You've been painting for years and you lost your sight as a kid, why are you letting it make you miserable now? So what you can't drive? I don't even own a car! You don't need sight to be amazing. This is what I mean. I hate seeing you get all mopey about this. Being blind isn't the end of the world, but making it seem worse than it is will be the end of it."

"I don't know," he admitted, pushing Lovino's hand away and covering his face, fingers tangled in his hair, "I don't know! I was fine with it! I accepted it. I didn't worry at all! I had so many plans and I felt like a person. My friends loved me, the school understood my situation and my struggles to adapt. It was all okay, but then it suddenly wasn't anymore. I didn't feel talented and I felt weak and-and I just didn't know what I was doing anymore! I don't know why I am like this, but I just want it to stop."

No matter how much he pleaded or how many nights he spent crying and begging for a way to feel free like he had once felt, he was still the same man with all of the same fears. It was the one thing that tore at him the most.

His facade of confidence and joy fell and revealed the vulnerable person he was and slowly, he began to realize that his blindness had little to do with it. He wasn't ashamed of being blind—he was scared. He was terrified.

Because what if his father had been right all along? What if he tried something and wasted all of these years on this one thing that he wasn't good at? What if what if what if what if!

What if he wasted his life?

It wasn't his blindness that chained him, it was his pride.

He felt a soft pair of lips on his cheek and he slowly brought his attention back to reality.

"Hey, it's okay. Breathe."

It was the gentlest he had ever heard Lovino.

"Breathe. It's okay. I'm right here," he rubbed Antonio's arms gentle, pressing another sweet kiss on his cheek, "Don't panic. I'm here."

He pulled Lovino close and nearly broke down as he did. Yet, he remained without tears and simply inhaled the sweet flowery smell of the man he held, almost as if he was afraid that he would disappear if he didn't.

"I don't know why I've become this way. I had a good life. I have no reason to feel like this."

Lovino shushed him, his movements and actions so loving and calm. He was a different person in that moment. He didn't snap or yell. He only stood there and gently wiped Antonio's face, fingertip strokes soaking into his skin, "The world doesn't care if you have had a good life of not. Sometimes, it just likes to fuck with us. It's okay to be messed up, I am too. That's why we're in the kitchen right now," he scoffed, shaking his head, allowing soft brown wisps of hair to graze Antonio's skin, "Maybe that's why we met."

A small smile met him and Antonio kissed Lovino's forehead, hands cupping his face though he had memorized every detail about it. Somehow, he held the heaven's in the palm of his hands. This beautiful angel holding everything he wanted and everything he needed was cupped in his hands.

He was wrong; he wasn't free—not even in the slightest. What he was was healing.

Did Lovino have any idea how much he meant to him? Holding him in his arms, he let their dulcet breaths fill their ears and fill them with warmth.

"Forgive me."

"Only if you forgive me too, idiot. This isn't only on you, you know."

The two had completely forgotten the two that waited for them in the living room. Too tangled up in the bittersweet moment, neither noticed two pairs of eyes peeking in and to their shock, seeing both embracing each other, no anger on either face, but rather a sense of serenity. It was a bit odd considering the angry yells that they had heard only moments before and neither was really sure of what to make of it.

What they were sure of was that they had never seen Lovino look so peaceful in years.

"The stars are beautiful tonight."

"Ya."

"You know what else is beautiful?"

"I swear if you say something stupid, Alfred—"

"Hawaiian pizza"

"I hate you."

"I love you, too."

Feliciano and Romeo ended up liking Antonio quite a bit. They thought he was funny and very sweet. They adored his corny dad jokes and they loved that he got Lovino to laugh at them as well (though, he would never admit it). After eating, they sat and had some coffee as they chatted, both brothers getting to know Antonio better to erase the moment that had occurred before.

Feliciano's eyes moved up and down for a moment, a brow raised and nodding. Lovino elbowed him to which the young painter batted his lashes sweetly before returning his intense gaze.

Romeo attempted several times to snag wine, though Lovino had hidden it, so he had found nothing.

Antonio, he relaxed. He spoke calmly with all of them, in an understanding and sweet voice. Despite it all, he was closed off—a trait unusual for Antonio to have.

"So Antonio, how much longer will you be in school?"

"Just this year," He replied, tapping the small cup in his hands as he did, "I've nearly made it, haha"

Feliciano and Romeo's eyes widened, "Wow! So you're about twenty-six? Twenty-seven?"

"Twenty-six."

"You're ancient," Romeo said in wonder and amusement, clearly teasing. Lovino whacked the small fifteen-year-old lightly.

Antonio simply laughed in return, "Yeah, I am ancient. Which means I'm smarter too."

The comment earned light laughter from Romeo. He was curious of many things, Antonio could tell from the skips of breath in between his words.

"Do you see black?"

"Romeo!" Feliciano and Lovino looked horrified, Lovino more than anything.

Antonio chuckled softly and shook his head, "No, I don't see in black."

"But how would you know if you've never seen color?"

Lovino facepalmed.

Antonio sipped his coffee and put the cup down, "Well, I actually have seen color before. I lost my sight because of a car accident. I hit my head really hard and when I got to the hospital, there was nothing that really could be done. So I know what colors look like, my favorite is red. But, it's weird to explain. I just see nothing. Not black, just nothing."

Romeo tilted his head, "That doesn't make sense."

"Mm, well imagine you stretched your arms and they went beyond the universe. What color is the space around them?"

"uh-"

"Exactly," Antonio explained calmly, no anger, anxiety, or frustration in sight, "It's just there. It just is. There's no black, orange, pink, or whatever, there just is it. It is nothing. Just the same, I see nothing. There just is,"

Romeo's eyes widened, the explanation still not settling into his mind and seeming so impossible. It was frazzling and he took a moment to process it before he somewhat managed to get an idea of what Antonio meant.

"I think my brain exploded."

"Didn't know you had one to begin with," Lovino replied, finishing his coffee and taking all of their dishes to the sink with an amused and wicked little grin.

Antonio shook his head at him, "Don't worry. He's mean to me too."

"I heard that, Anto."

Everyone had a good laugh and Antonio stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend, a playful smile on his face. The sweet laughter that he heard bubbling from the kitchen was all of the reassurance that he needed.

Feliciano stood up, "It's been great to meet you, Antonio, and to see you again, Lovino, but Romeo and I have to go check into our hotel. We'll be here for the week since someone here misses you."

There was a loud scratch from Lovino's general direction and the room fell silent for the strangest moment.

"Whaaaaaat?"

Antonio laughed a bit, covering his mouth. Though, the sweetness of their family left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. A sudden wave of nostalgia hit him but also filled him with a sense of sorrow.

"Alright, goodbye you nerds. See you later," Lovino called to them, a sweeter tone taking over him. It was mild, but if anything, Antonio tended to notice such things. It was a nice contrast to his bitterness, though he wasn't sure if he would be able to handle it

As soon as they were gone and a silence filled the air once again, he made his way to the kitchen, fingers mindlessly stroking the walls and feet recalling the familiar path of the apartment. Getting to the kitchen, he reached for Lovino, a bright smile decorating his face.

Beautiful, he was the sun. Even on the rainy days and horrid moments, he was there to wipe his tears and reassure him. Though their relationship took a chaotic turn on the first day, he felt secure around him. If he was Icarus, he would have gladly flown into his sweet and everlasting embrace.

Wrapping his arms around him, he reached to attempt to help out with the dishes from his position. His hand was smacked away by Lovino and it brought a smile to his face.

"What are you doing, dork," Lovino's soft and sarcastic laughter moved swiftly, wrapping around the both of them.

Antonio stood there, listening to the crackling sounds of the radio that still played crappy old songs, "I'm treasuring you."

"Dumbass," he chuckled, putting the last of the dishes on the rack.

Antonio held him dearer, memorizing every corner and curve of Lovino's body. Pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, he sighed.

Imperfect, but nevertheless amazing and stunning to Antonio in every way possible. Problematic, but he was too. It would have been hypocritical of him to deny him.

"You were calm around Romeo."

"That's because he is a teenager with questions. There was no pity, only honesty. I'm sure Feliciano is the same."

Lovino sighed gently, a depressed tone in it, "Are you still upset?"

Antonio shook his head, "No, are you?"

"Only over the fact that you still haven't given Shrek his face back."

Lovino wasn't cruel or selfish or even a monster. What he was—it was closed off. He kept a shield up and used his tongue as a sword to defend himself. He wasn't sure why, but it wasn't really any of his business, was it?

Antonio kept up a wall. He had been building it for years. Brick by brick he ignored the world and allowed himself to suffer. Stone by stone he erased his joy. Year after year he cemented it in security and confidence that he would never feel pain again. Yet, all it took was his breath and Lovino knocked every piece down.

Swaying from side to side, he felt a sense of freedom. Though he knew it was only a step towards truly ripping off his chains, he accepted it. It was a step forward after all. It was a step closer to freedom than he had been before.

"When are you letting me see your project? I want to see the finished product."

"Not yet. You'll know when."

"Boo, you whore."

Antonio laughed, spinning him around so that he could kiss him and rest his head on his forehead.

How much did he adore him?

He didn't know. He just did.