~Verde Cromo~

"The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living."

- Marcus Tullius Cicero

"Hey Lov...we have to talk. Answer me when you can. Have a good day salami breath, I looove you! 3"

Sweet kisses peppered his face, each lighting a flame inside him and sprouting flowers of all kind that gladly soaked up the warmth of it all. Deep red carnations bloomed from his cheeks while primrose poked from his fingertips. With each clash of the lips, mallows sprung to life accompanied by red tulips. His lips were honeysuckle and he never wanted to let go.

Beautiful blooming love.

Like with wine, he was not sure he could live without him. Cupping his face, Antonio clung to him. Every kiss was sweet like honey and he wanted to consume it all.

However, with each kiss, the room grew warmer and touches lingered for fleeting seconds more, clinging to that passion that sprouted and flowered beautifully. What soon were light touches and peppered kisses became more desperate and longing with refusal to break away from the other.

Moving upward, Lovino wrapped his legs around Antonio's waist, trailing long, desperate kisses down his neck, breath warm. Finding it safe, he hesitantly rolled his hips on his lap—a movement so delicate and small it could not possibly have been too fast.

Yet, Antonio still pulled away as if bitten by a viper.

Hands that once cupped the warm sun broke away like they had been burned. Lips that were swollen from kisses separate and suddenly cold. Eyes that once opened every few moments to melt lovingly on his face were blank and lifeless for a moment before shutting.

At first anger sparked up from Lovino, Antonio could detect it. The way the room suddenly fell so silent and the warmth and joy wore away. He did not know what to say to him, he hardly had an idea of how to make up for suddenly dropping him and moving to the far corner of the couch as if his lover would burn him if he tried to move any closer.

"Did I do something wrong," he asked, almost accusatory and afraid to hear the answer.

"No," he said, "You didn't do anything wrong."

There was more silence and the room grew even more frigid, "Then why did you just—pull away?"

He sounded afraid, hurt, irritated, but genuinely curious and concerned.

Forget-me-nots sprouted from his lips and he moved back to where he was. How did he even explain something he himself did not understand? Antonio bit the inside of his cheek.

"Antonio, if I'm moving too fast, tell me, you idiot. I don't want to force you into something uncomfortable." His voice was a bit harsh, but carried all of the sincerity and love in the world.

The room warmed up a bit and Antonio wished more than anything to see just for a moment; just so that he could see this wonderful man who though bitter, cared about him more than he could ever expect anyone to.

Deep breath, he told himself, deep breath.

"You're not moving too fast. It's just—uh, I'm not so comfortable with sex," he admitted, shyly, almost feeling as if that one thing lowered his worth even more, "And I panicked a bit when you started getting a bit more, lustful? If that's the right word."

There was silence and it was a bit terrifying to him. In his eyes, that boundary he had made him feel less loved and less capable of being loved. There really was no reason for it, but it grew inside of him and that thought of touching someone like that made him more nervous than words could comprehend. Yet, nothing was as terrifying as the suspense and lingering thought that perhaps Lovino wouldn't like this part of him.

"That's it?"

What?

He burst out laughing. It was not out of mockery, but simply out of amusement. Sweet, soft, silky laughter in his eyes despite being rough, scratchy, and breathless. Torture to the rest of the world, but lovely to him, he listened to that awful laugh and his heart warmed.

Cupping Antonio's cheeks, he pressed a soft kiss to his lips, "Turtle dork, next time just tell me. It's not a big deal if you don't want that. I thought I did something bad, you fucktart."

Daffodils fell from the sky. He was in love with an angel.

"Tell me Antonio, will you ever allow yourself to fall in love," the question was smooth and calm; it was the same as it had been before. It took him back to the first time that the question had been asked. He had heard it a million times and he knew he would hear it a million times more. At least, that was if he did not begin to clarify the dances of his mind and the songs of his thoughts which lingered in the sweet air for million year moments.

"Oh my dear friend," he laughed an airy laugh, "I don't think I ever will. I don't think I ever can."

He could feel the atmosphere grow still and cold in confusion and uncertainty.

"But, nevertheless, it isn't up to me to allow myself to fall in love. Even right now, it seems that I have found what I never meant to find. But you know what, Franny?"

"Hm," he asked.

"I don't mind so much," he grinned wide and tossed the scarf around his neck, lifting the glass of wine up to his already stained lips.

Francis chuckled softly, humming in response. Words were not really needed at the moment. Even the obnoxious Gilbert had fallen silent in the moment.

How long had it been since he had seen them last? Somehow, he couldn't quite recall it. It tore at him a bit to know that they would disappear once more as they had before and that he would only have the memories of things like now. He would soon only look back on drinking with his friends and laughing at the silly things in life that made him feel like he was still in highschool and that he was not in pain.

But then again, this time he was not alone. Somehow, that brightened him up more than anything else in the world could have. While his friends lived a good afternoon drive away from him, he would always have their voices when he called or the leftover things that they seemed to abandon in his home.

It called for a celebration. It called for a drink. Lifting up his hand, he requested more wine.

One of Antonio's favorite things to do was to take walks; especially if it meant that Lovino was with him as well. He liked the air embracing him and the leaves, snow—whatever it may be—crunching beneath his feet as they walked. Then of course, there was the urban air and the busy sounds of the world in motion that he kept a bit of attention to through all of his counting and ensuring he did not walk into a pole or the center of a busy and dangerous road.

Lovino would hold his arm and lean on him in the slightest way that managed to splash up beautiful wisps of oceanside tranquility. Every once in a while, if he was confident, a pair of soft lips pressed to his ear or cheek. They poured out his love and laced his world in silk. Seconds, that was all it took for these simple little things to occur. And though they only lingered for a few fleeting moments, he embraced them close and never desired to let them go.

But there was something different this time.

He felt rather distant.

It wasn't something that he could exactly pinpoint and talk about. He hadn't the faintest guess at what made him realize that the walk was different and that all of the wonderful emotions weren't painting his world.

Was it the fact that his grip was loose around his arm? Or was it the lack of physical contact and that Lovino had not leaned on him? No, perhaps it was the way he walked. The grace that he had recognized so often disappeared and was replaced by dragging feet and a feeling that dug inside his mind whispering cruel taunts and doubts.

"Are you alright, tesoro?"

"Yeah."

He did not believe him. Perhaps there was the chance that he was simply being paranoid and that nothing was wrong at all. Yet, it seemed unrealistic the more that he thought about it. The more that he thought about the way that he seemed distant, the more that his heart broke a little at the thought of Lovino—precious Lovino—not trusting him enough or feeling comfortable enough to say what was on his mind that was leaving him behind a blurred wall.

He came to a stop, pulling a still walking Lovino back with him. Though, the irritated noises that came from him were setting him and Antonio could sense it.

"What," his voice was bitter and held little-to-no patience; it stunned Antonio.

Did he dare attempt to ask again?

"What's wrong?"

Lovino scoffed, pulling his arm away as well as pulling Antonio's sense of security with it, "Nothing! Let it go!"

He attempted to continue walking but Antonio pulled him back, his brows furrowed and a small frown on his face, "Please 'Vino, tell me what's on your mind."

"I don't have to tell you everything okay," he spat at him, words hitting Antonio harder than any words before had ever hit him, "If I don't want to talk about things I don't have to! Just leave it alone! I just want to take a walk with you because—fuck—we never have a chance to. I just want to maybe get some ice cream and be with you, but the last thing I want to do right now is talk about whatever is on my mind, okay? I just," he paused, sniffing lightly and sighing, "I just want to relax for a bit."

Antonio nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to Lovino's forehead, "Okay. We'll just walk. You don't have to say anything."

Lovino was practically collapsing against Antonio, shaking with—well actually, he didn't know. Anger? Fear? Anxiety? Something. Whatever it was, it left him trembling and clutching to Antonio as if he were turning to dust.

"Thank you," he murmured when he finally had calmed himself enough to straighten up and take his arm again to continue their walk.

In reality, it baffled him briefly and he required a few minutes to compose himself. He was not so used to small bursts of fire. They were frightening. It brought chills to his spine and

Antonio loved their walks. He loved the secure feeling it gave him and the way it took away all of his anxieties. He loved their loving hold and the way that it was only he that could make Lovino smile the way he did without a single attempt to hide his laughter. He also loved Lovino telling him if something was wrong. He hated seeing him hold things in and wait for them to burst or carrying burdens on his own. He loved Lovino telling him when something was wrong so that he knew what he was keeping in.

However, he loved Lovino feeling comfortable and safe around him—even if he didn't want to talk or just wasn't ready to—even more. It was okay. When he was comfortable, he would tell. He could not force Lovino to tell him everything before he was ready to.

For now, he would make him happy.

"Guess what, 'Vino," he cooed in a light tone.

"Hm," responded the still calming man holding his arm.

"My art is going to be in a gallery," he said casually, as if it were a comment on the weather, "You should come see it."

This got Lovino to perk up. Shoving Antonio's shoulder, he gasped, "Really? That's amazing! Show those bitches refusing to pay for their damn requests! When is it being displayed?"

"Friday. We could go check it out, look at the other art, and grab dinner together after. Is that okay?" Antonio stopped, pressing the crosswalk button.

"Sounds good. As long as we don't get cheap pizza, I am absolutely fine. I look forward to it." His tone was much more content than before and in all truth, it lifted Antonio's hopes and drove away his anxiety.

Laughing lightly, he nodded, "Don't worry. We won't get cheap pizza. At least not then. Right now, we are getting cheap pizza."

"Ugh, Antooo," he whined, a humored tone in in, "This is abuse!"

He simply smiled a bit more. This—this was what he loved about their walks.

"I love you too." Antonio pecked the top of his head.

"hey nerd, I got your text, what's up?"

"so you know how I have been having a hard time with chest pain and feeling dizzy and stuff?"

"Yeah….?"

"I went to the doctor's to check up and see what was wrong and it turns out I got aortic stenosis."

"what's that?"

"Um, it's the narrowing of the heart valves. And I guess it's pretty severe for me? but yeah. I wanted to tell you in person but I dunno if I'd be able to not start crying in front of you ahaha."

"is there anything that we can do?!"

"surgery. But uh, my family doesn't have that kind of money right now and nobody I know does either. So haha, I don't really know what to do?"

"hey, don't panic. Breathe. I promise you we'll get you that money. Breathe. I'm on my way over and we'll talk about this more when I get there, okay?"

"okay."

"k. remember I'm here to be your shoulder to cry on, okay? I won't ask you to not cry because this is hard. Hell, I might end up crying too, but this won't be forever, remember that. Now what kind of snacks do you want me to buy from the store? Oreos?"

"Oreos."

"You know, I'm not a fan of the corny 'blindfolded surprise' thing; especially not when I'm the one with working vision and I know you're not paying attention to where you're walking. This better be good, Anto," Lovino said, a small smirk on his lips that was nearly undetectable.

Antonio chuckled and continued to lead him along, nervous that he would run into a pole himself, but overall excited to reveal his surprise to Lovino, "We're almost there, querido."

Lovino felt a gush of warmth and knew that were inside of the gallery. He rolled his eyes from beneath the blindfold and moved to keep walking. His and Antonio's steps combined were rather clumsy and he was fairly impressed at the lack of tripping that took place.

He took another wobbly step to keep going but was pulled back, "Is this it?"

"Mhm. This is it," Antonio smiled, embracing him and pressing soft, loving kisses on his neck and reaching to remove the blindfold, "Surprise, my love."

Lovino opened his eyes and they went wide. Staring ahead, his mouth went into a small 'o' shape and he could see the people around them smiling and looking at him from the corner of his eye. Three paintings of Antonio's were on display. Each one gorgeous coming from his hand of course. But what got Lovino to bite his lip and stare with teary eyes was the fact that each painting was a portrait of him. His face, grumpy, smiling, and neutral painted on the canvas in beautiful colors. Each one handled so detailed it was almost stunning since he could not recall any of these being made when he was around

Tears continued to collect and Lovino bit down on his lip, laughing lightly as he covered his his mouth staring up at the display. He was in an art gallery. Toni painted him. His heart bruised itself from how hard it was beating. Though, it wasn't until he looked down at the plaque.

Heaven's Face

Covering his face, he smiled sheepishly and turned, looking up at Antonio despite knowing that he could see the way that his face filled with a thousand blending emotions that painted one enamoured expression. Then, without the briefest hesitation, Lovino threw himself into Antonio's arms, clinging to him tightly and bashfully. Tears poured down his face and mumbles warmed Antonio's chest from his emotional attempts to express himself. His hands gripped onto the shirt that he now wrinkled and cried on.

"I assume that you like it then?" Antonio gently nuzzled his hair, his hand gently on the back of his neck.

Lovino nodded, unable to find his breath or words. Small muffled noises were the only indication that he was attempting to speak at all. It brought laughter bubbling from Antonio. It also caused a rather chagrined Lovino to punch Antonio—though he was completely enchanted.

"I love it, you big sap," he finally said between shaky hiccups and breaths, "When did you have the time to do this?"

Antonio laughed more, kissing his forehead fondly, "Whenever I could."

Lovino was still mumbling into his shirt, burning red and refusing to pull away from his shirt. The last thing that he wanted to see was the faces of the people around them seeing why he was reacting the way that he was and Antonio, laughing and pressing soft kisses to his head.

"I love you," Antonio murmured before pressing one last kiss on his head.

Lovino finally pulled away, looking up at Antonio and letting a twitching smile grow on his face, "I love you too."

That was how he stood with him, his heartbeat loud enough for just the two of them to hear. Antonio swayed gently with him, showing him the other art around the gallery, but Lovino buried his face in Antonio's shoulder, unable to bear the knowing glances people gave him each time they glanced at Antonio's painting.

But as the moments passed, so did Lovino's embarrassment. Rather than cling to Antonio like gum to a shoe, he looked up proudly—meeting the eyes of the strangers in the room. He would give nothing but a simple nod when they looked towards him. He was an angel most high and his wings could not be clipped—no matter how many times he was shot a nasty look.

Soon, he was standing tall next to Antonio, not allowing anyone to steal his high. But as proud as he was, it wasn't for being the one painted. No, it was for being able to look up at Antonio and towards his paintings knowing that the shift from dark blues, greys, and purples to gold, lively greens, and hues of the sunrise began as he stepped into the picture.

He wished that breath that smelled just a bit too sweet would never smell that way again.

Shy glances towards Antonio's set snuck past him and he would smile before gazing up at the man he remained close to. He had talent and he knew with every last part of his heart that Antonio would become known one day.

As the silence from his admiration pierced his mind, so did the guilt of his enraged silence from before. It pierced his veil of lies and his inner facade he had placed for himself came crumbling down having been no stronger than the walls of Jericho.

Sighing, he wondered how much longer he could continue to walk on nails and lie to himself and Antonio.

He wondered how Alfred was doing.

"Are you tired, querido?"

Lovino glanced up at Antonio once more. He was the very sun for his Earth. He brought him light and life, never burning him in the process. He was his meaning and his breath. This wonderful sun—had he blinded himself in more way than one?

"A bit. Is it alright if we have dinner at your house," he asked softly, completely worn out from his crying.

Gently wiping his tears, Antonio nodded, "Of course we can, come on."

His face was buried in his shoulder, a sliver of a smile caressing his face.

Walking outside, Antonio shivered a bit as he opened the umbrella for them so that they could walk. Lovino gazed up at him and his eyes could have flooded with tears. No matter how times he caught his face or his smile, he still wobbled to his knees. No matter how many times he reminded himself he didn't really fear anything or have anything he needed to be protected from, Antonio's arms were the where he felt the most secure.

After so much running and attempting to find sense in his world of monachopsis and confusion, finding someone so bright and full of life turned his entire world on it's side and filled his dreams with primroses.

Though the night was a bit cold, he did not shiver. Antonio was his warmth. He glanced at the road ahead of them, still leading the walk. The night was absolutely gorgeous and it took him a moment before he realized he couldn't quite comment on how beautiful everything looked. The struggle was one that was not great, but little slip-ups still managed to move past him. However, he was content in knowing that he was improving over time.

"What are you thinking about, 'Vino?" Antonio's voice was soft and feathery.

Tilting his head, he stopped their walk so that they could wait for the crosswalk. Humming softly, he fixed his grip on Antonio's arm, clinging to him like a frightened child, "Stuff," he said. His hazel eyes darted to the sign and he began walking again, "A lot of stuff."

There was only a quiet "mm" from Antonio as a sign that he had heard him. It sent pins to his skin and suddenly, all the anxiety he had piled up for the day was beginning to get to him. Before he knew it, he was collapsed against his boyfriend once again, clinging to him in desperation as his tears poured down. The umbrella was stabbing him slightly, but he did not care. He wanted it to stab him. Lovino desired for nothing more than for that umbrella to pierce his skin and take away the pain he felt everywhere else.

He knew that he was ruining Antonio's shirt, but he refused to let go. There was the imp of a voice in his mind that taunted him and brought him more fear than he could absorb or handle.

He could practically hear the shattering of Antonio's heart as he listened to his miserable sobs.

"Is there a cafe or a gas station here? I'll get us an Uber. I don't think you're fit for walking," his voice was still, holding no emotion, not even the question. It wasn't a question with an alternative option.

Nodding limply, he turned, ignoring the cars and the rain, not caring that he was getting soaked, "T-There's a McDonald's r-right ar-round the corner." His sniffs and chokes mixed with his words and nothing tore at Antonio more than that moment of hearing and being able to see the brightest angel in world crumbling to pieces before him.

Everything was silent as they sat. The only words either had said had been Lovino ordering fries. Besides that, there was silence. Miserable, broken, tragic silence. The noise and the sounds of other eating surrounded them; their corner was silent. Even when their ride arrived, they were silent. Antonio's arms around Lovino, pushing his soaked hair back as they sat there.

The entire time, guilt ate away at Lovino. How could he ruin such a wonderful night with his old flames and his old pains? He didn't dare meet his face in fear of Antonio catching something—anything that gave away his crumbling world. Though, he knew deep inside the crevices of his soul that he already knew.

He already knew.

Then, out of nowhere, sound broke through the threatening silence and Lovino's tears stopped falling. His pounding ears silenced in that moment and welcomed the sweet, whispery murmurs from the man who held him.

Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby

Squeeze me oh-so tight

Show me

That you love me too

A smile broke onto his face and he met Antonio's face. His eyes scanned over every sharp angle and every soft curve. How had he found such a treasure?

"Antonio," he said, "There's something I want to tell you once we get to your house."

The prickly feeling of guilt and fear mixed, producing an emotion that was tormenting in ways that burned him.

"Okay," he replied, calmly; it took Lovino's fear away.

For once, he was able to relax, no fears in the world and no concerns for all the weight crushing him that he was finally—after so long—letting go of.

"Promise me that if I don't get past October, that you won't keep yourself from loving again."

"I promise I'll try"

Lovino hated autumn. He hated it. Everything from the dry, cold, weather to the damp leaves that were absolutely no fun to walk in. The mud was far too thick and the air was anything but nice. No matter how many scarves he wore, the cold still left his skin burning and begging to be scratched. The season screamed disappointment. It had for the past three years. Yet, of all the things he abhorred about autumn, it was the fact that he still hadn't gotten over everything that hit him the hardest.

Despite autumn having done nothing to him before, he loathed it these days. Though that October night had been like any other, he still wished he could fall into a coma until winter rolled around. Perhaps he would fall into one forever.

Perhaps he could fall into death without realization and when he looked up and out his window, Alfred would be standing there with wide, welcome arms. He would run up to him and embrace him with no intention of letting go.

Yes, that sounded like a good plan. It sounded absolutely perfect.

He pushed people aside, never looking up once. Angry looks were shot in his direction, but he did not care very much. His eyes remained on the ground, his heart crumbing behind him as it had been doing for three years.

He glanced up, knowing he had to sometime. Green. There was a quick blur of green before he tumbled to the ground

"What did you want to talk about," Antonio asked as he hung his coat, making his way to the kitchen. His heart beat fast. Though he was sure that they had settled any issues, he couldn't help but grow concerned with the way Lovino seemed so upset and then wanting to talk to him in private.

Perhaps he was overthinking it and reading the signs wrong, but yet, he could not help it. It tore at him to think so; especially when he found himself certain that Lovino was the one he desired and the one he wanted to hold at night.

"Well," he began, "This is something we should sit down for."

Oh.

So he was breaking up with him.

Suddenly, he could not breathe. Why all of a sudden did he want to break up? Antonio knew he was far from perfect, but he thought Lovino cared about him the way he did and was willing to work together and take baby steps. Had that not been true? His entire body was weak and he felt unable to do anything but swallow over and over despite having a dry mouth after about the third time.

Seated, his clammy hands found his lap. He could feel all of the tears beginning to collect leaving him nothing but a human stick of lighted dynamite.

"Anto-"

"Was it something I did?"

"W-What?" Lovino's hands squeezed his in surprise.

Antonio sniffed, already beginning to cry miserably, "You. Breaking up with me. Was it something I did?"

The man was trembling and he didn't want to hear the reasoning for why he was being dumped. All he could think about was the fact that he had managed to drive another person away; that he drove the most precious person to him away. Somehow, he had done it again.

Hiccups moved past him and he struggled not to collapse as it was, his entire heart threatening to shatter.

"Breaking up with-Oh no! Antonio! No! Caro! Oh, my gosh," Lovino burst into light laughter, "Caro, I'm not breaking up with you. Crap. I'm so sorry. I made you worry this much? I'm so sorry, Antonio."

"Y-You're not breaking up with me?" he was a hiccuping mess, tears already streaming down his face faster than he could control.

Lovino shook his head, "Hell no. I was just going to give an explanation for today because I broke down so much. Fuck, I'm so sorry, Anto."

His breath released and he embraced his boyfriend tightly, his entire body shaking still and his tears still pouring, "Don't scare me like that! I t-thought you d-didn't want to be with me anym-more!"

"Antonio, you painted me for an art gallery. I'd be insane to break up with you," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, "Stop crying, mio amore. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you so much."

It took him a few moments to process what had been said. Oh, he wasn't being left behind. That brought him much relief. However, he was now a bit more concerned about what Lovino had to tell him. Every part of him attempted to rationalize and help him calm down from the many many irrational assumptions of what he had to say. Was he leaving to live somewhere else? Had he found a career that would mean that there would be less time they would have around one another?

"So, you know how I've been a bit, well, sensitive lately?"

Suddenly, all of his attention was on Lovino, not because he was worried about himself or that he would have his heartbroken, but that he was seeing these walls he never believed would come down crumble to nothing but dust.

Lovino, his beautiful Lovino. The way he shook like a pup in a thunderstorm, the way that he clung to him suddenly, collapsing and not sure of what he was doing, those gasps of breath as he sought to control himself in the only way that he could—what on earth had happened to his wonderful moonlight?

"I can't do this, I can't do this," he choked out between all of the sobs and disparity.

Antonio gently rubbed his back, "It's okay, you don't have to explain-"

"No, I mean I can't hold this in anymore," he sniffed. Moving, he sat up straight, still holding his hands tightly, nails digging into his palms, "Antonio, do you remember that time I broke down when you were painting my face?"

"And you told me it reminded you of your ex, yes, why?"

Oh, the way anxiety gnawed at his mind in vile and selfish attempts to turn his mood sour and break his heart in two. What had happened to his wonderful Lovino? What damage had occurred that tore his heart and entire being apart, piece by piece?

Lovino wiped his tears again, "I loved him very much Antonio, I want you to know that. He helped me out during really bad times with my parents."

Though his heart ached at the thought of Lovino's lips pressed against another pair that weren't his, he listened. Though the thought of someone else, someone who could actually be the man he needed, caressing his skin and making him laugh made his heart burn in pain, he did not interrupt him.

And soon it became worth it. As his words of sorrow poured out like a great flood, Antonio felt like Noah, keeping steady through it all. With each passing minute, Lovino poured another piece of himself out to Antonio. His parents and their drinking problem that led to abuse, Alfred coming along and lighting up his world, the way that he felt a love he didn't understand, finding about his heart, and the call he got the day of the surgery to inform him that Alfred hadn't made it. All of it. There was no holding back. Every last part of his pride washed away, crumbled, shattered. He was vulnerable in Antonio's arms, talking to him about hating autumn from that day thereafter. He was sobbing and crying out in agony as he confessed his deepest torments to him.

Antonio did not need sight to let him know that his pain was crushing him and leaving him curled into a ball of pain as he let the moment wash away the dirt that had infected his wounds.

The way his words echoed in Antonio's mind tormented him. Such words, such tones, such misery should never have been heard again from the moon that lit up his darkest nights and filled the blackness with shining beauty. Oh, he wished he could kiss that pain away and never let it touch the heart of his beloved. He wished he could fill him with love like wine filled a glass and never see him unhappy again.

"I thought it w-was going to be okay, you know," he sniffed, buried in Antonio's shirt as he clung to him desperately, "He even called the night before excited. He p-promised that we were going to g-go on a nice date and he was going to spoil me like crazy a-after," he chuckled softly, "B-but t-then I got that call—I wasn't even out of school yet—and his dad was telling me with shaky gasps that he had flatlined during the surgery and-and that t-that was it. It was two y-years ago t-today."

His heart did end up breaking that day, but it did not break because Lovino admitted to still feeling the pain of his late boyfriend. No, his heart broke because after wondering what had caused him so much grievance and what had been crushing his sanity for so long, he knew. He finally knew and truth be told, hearing his pain brought him more pain than anything on Earth ever could have.

Parents who loved liquor more than him? A boyfriend who showed him the light only to have him plucked away with the harsh reminder of the delicateness of life. No, he did not deserve to carry such weights on his back. If he could, he would have taken them onto his own. He would worn them on his back so that Lovino would never have to suffer with the way they pierced through his skin with the thorns that grew from them or watch his back cripple under the weight. He already carried a lot on his own back and he had long since bled out from it all; what difference would a couple more weights make?

"And it makes me feel like such an asshole, b-because if I'm d-dating you, then should I-I b-be happy? Why am I still c-crying o-over this? I h-have you," he wailed, collapsing into Antonio's arms, nothing more than a fragile form of a person. All of his walls had washed away and the image of strength and confidence that Antonio had been so used to being around was left a shivering pup in his arms.

Yes, his heart hurt. That much he could deny. The knowledge that there was still the slight longing for his old boyfriend stung and tormented him. His pride and fears said to break up with Lovino and forget that he had ever been involved with him. Yet, his heart told him otherwise and he knew the truth.

Cupping his face, he kissed his forehead and sighed, "You have every right to feel pain. You have every right to cry. You have every reason in the world to grieve right here in my arms. I don't care that you cry for someone else; you're hurt. It's okay to cry, Lovino, and it's okay to grieve. You lost someone and just because I'm in your life now doesn't mean you still can't feel that pain. Who am I to tell you when and when you cannot feel pain?"

Lovino sniffed, a miserable moan erupting from him as he shook his head, "B-but I'm crying over s-someone I used to date."

"How does that invalidate your feelings," he asked, "My love, you can cry for as long as you need to and weep into my arms for all of eternity if that's what you need. Am I supposed to be angry that you fell in love before? That's unrealistic. 'Vino, I am not here to replace him, I'm here to love you right now and be the shoulder to lean on when something is wrong. It doesn't make a difference to me that he was your boyfriend; you are allowed to grieve. So grieve, cry, and let all of that pain out. I'm here to listen to you when you need it. I know life has not been good to you and that you've held this in for a long time in fear of what happens if you forget him. But Lovino, you've been holding yourself on the edge of that cliff for too long, afraid to take the next step and jump. But I'm here now, aren't I? So it's okay to jump. It's okay to let go, and it's okay to cry when you do because the fall is scary."

Lovino kept clinging to Antonio, terrible sobs shaking his entire body as Antonio held him close, whispering soft words of adoration in his ear to relax him. Oh, his beautiful love. He wished he had known before to help him take that leap.

"It's okay to be scared to jump. It's okay to be scared of letting go. However, I promise you that once you do, I'll be right here to catch you with open arms and all of the love in the world. Don't let grief torment you anymore," he said, fingers combing through his hair, grazing along his cheek, cupping his face—simply doing all that he could to slow his breaths and allow him relief.

Though he said nothing and continued to cling to him, the fact that his breaths grew softer and his grip gentle, Antonio knew. He sat there with him, gentle kisses pressed to his hands and lips as he slowly fell asleep in Antonio's arms—absolutely exhausted from crying—while Antonio held him close with no intention of letting go.

His gentle hiccups and small shaky gasps were all that Antonio listened to that night. Though his mind still felt envy over this Alfred, he thought about where he was now. It didn't matter what happened in Lovino's past or who he had loved because he loved him now. He was the one who pressed soft kisses to his head.

He was the one who made all of his worries and all of his pains wash away, even if only temporary. This wonderful man walked into his life and treated him like an actual person. Though he wished he could see his face at least once, the way the warm of his body lit his mind with the colors of autumn fire made life all the more blissful.

How much grief did he hold? Not only from the death of his partner, but from the treatment of his parents? How many nights had this man pushed himself and his brothers into a corner without so much as a second thought?

Leaning close to him, he kissed him once more, "I promise I will never hurt you the way they did."

Red dahlias grew from the floor.