A/N: Hey, guys! I'm back with another chapter! |D Kind of. This is the epilogue haha~! Kind of the... story after the story? Guess I wasn't done with this haha! This one's a lot short (God, A LOT shorter) but. It serves its purpose. I promise this is the last one!

As a sidenote, this whole thing is inspired by the song "Bulletproof Picasso" by Train. I suggest giving it a listen! It's very much like the song that would play at the ending credits!

.Epilogue.
Endless Caresses

We don't need a reason for anything we feel.

Emotions are always raging. Whether wanted to or not, they're always knocking at your door, reminding you of their existence. They like to taunt, they like to sneer, they like to wind you up and break you down. And just when you think you have them figured out, just when you think you have them under your thumb, something sparks them into action. No matter how big or how small that something is, it never fails to send the dominos toppling over, until you stand in the ruins of a carefully-constructed disaster.

But even when the shadows threaten to overtake, there is always a light that will be found. Even in the darkest of night, the stars shine. The sun will rise again. Somewhere, in that dark expanse, there is a flame burning, keeping someone warm and illuminating the dark world.

It's something to cling to, something to never lose sight of. That light within the darkness...

Perhaps that was what lead him here. He had spotted that light within the dark, the flickering flame in the distance. He had chased it, reached for it, called out for it. He stumbled, he fell, he scraped his knees. And when he had caught that small flame, he almost snuffed it out. Only to have it burst back into life again. Whether or not it was his own doing, well... He didn't know for certain. He could only assume that the fire had its own reason for existing, its own reason for sparking anew. He at least liked to think that he had kindled it, maybe in the slightest.

It was a strange road, he mused, that they had traveled. A meeting by pure chance that lead to a conversation. That was the first domino that fell. From there, they kept toppling over, each one colliding into the next. The pieces fell slower at times, but only picked up pace once again, until finally, it lead them here, to the chaotic disaster they found beauty and satisfaction within.

But through it all, not once had he believed it would lead him here. The wind blowing through his hair, the scent of farmland filling his nostrils, the heat of the late summer sun upon his skin... He could only stare in wonder at the scenery that passed him by. He saw it all with new eyes, he realised. Sure, he had never been to this part of the countryside. But he figured that if he had seen one, he had seen it all. How wrong he was...

The rolling hills, the shimmering waves of overgrown grass, the passing livestock... Hell, even the clouds that lazily floated past in the sky. It all seemed so very new to him, and he could only take it in with childish curiosity. He knew where he was; he had checked the map time and time again to assure they were on the right road. Yet at the same time, he felt as though he were completely and utterly lost.

"Hey, Toni."

The Spaniard heard the call over the wind and the radio, and green eyes flicked away from the passing landscape in favour of looking to the driver beside him. He felt as though he were in a dream, watching as those wavy locks bounced in the wind. "Yeah?" he answered over Spain's top hits.

Romano pressed further into the seat, one hand out the window as the other perched atop the steering wheel. His lips pursed, and his eyes flicked left and right from behind his sunglasses. "Just how far out is this place, ah? I hardly see any roads out here."

Antonio motioned ahead of them with the hand that hung outside the window. "It's still up a little further, I think. There's supposed to be a big sign." With how long they had been travelling, he understood his partner's concern. This wasn't a trip they would have taken by car. But alas, it wasn't as simple as just taking a plane. Not when it would be a one-way trip. He was sure it was weighing on the others mind, the place the Italian had called home.

The driver snorted in response and pressed on the gas a little more as they came upon a hill. Up and over, simple as that. That is, if it weren't for Antonio flinging himself across the whole dashboard the moment they reached the top, his hand outstretched.

"THERE!"

"SHIT!"

The shouts were nearly simultaneous as Romano slammed on the brakes, Antonio bracing himself against the dashboard as they lurched forward. The car slowed just before the turn, and letting out a huff, Romano spun the wheel and pulled them into the dirt driveway. "I swear to God, Antonio, I'm going to end you one of these days," he reprimanded. It was met with a nervous laugh and a quiet apology. He pressed into the gas slowly as the car took hold of the new terrain. Freeing up one hand, he reached over to lightly smack his lover's head with his knuckles and fingers. "I forgive you, but don't throw yourself across me like that when I'm drivin', Jesus Christ. That's got to be one of the most idiotic things you've ever done."

Antonio raised a brow at the notion. Oh, was that a challenge? He'd take it. "You mean, more idiotic than getting my butt stuck in that bucket?"

Romano pursed his lips and contemplated the question for a brief moment. "That was more funny than idiotic."

A shrug. "You still called me an idiot."

"And I don't normally call you an idiot?"

"Touché."

The car pulled up in front of the building he had been told would be the main house and came to a stop. A moment later and the engine switched off, just as the cloud of dissipating dust caught up with the vehicle. Romano twirled the keys into his palm as he looked to the relatively small building. "For such a large estate, they didn't exactly make use of the land," he commented.

Antonio unbuckled himself and pushed open the door, giving a glance to Romano. "That's the thing, I don't think they wanted something big and fancy. It's just them living in it," he answered. But just before he climbed out, he paused and regarded the Italian with a curious expression. "I never told you about my uncle, did I?"

Romano raised a brow as his own seat belt returned to its place. "No?"

Wow. So much time planning this whole thing out and Antonio had failed to even mention anything about his uncle... A nervous laugh, and then a sheepish grin. "Well. His only family is his husband and a cat." A hum of approval from his lover, and he pushed himself out of the car, giving a stretch. He looked over the hood of the car to the Italian, the other's eyes now revealed from behind the darkened lenses. "That's why they don't need that big of a place. It's just them," he commented.

A nod was Romano's only answer, and Antonio pushed the car door closed. As he made his way up toward the porch, he was questioned on the state of their bags, but he was quick to reassure the other about them. They'd be able to unpack later. And as he reminded his Italian lover, they didn't even know where the younger would be staying just yet. They had yet to discuss the location of the farmhand quarters.

The door swung open shortly after the knock Antonio had placed, and the homeowner and his nephew exchanged excited greetings. They babbled away in Spanish, commenting on the trip and the lengthy drive, as well as the beauty of the area and the mental and physical well-being of the two. Antonio answered and gave questions of his own, before motioning Romano up beside him and introducing him.

Without even being asked, the Spaniard served as interpreter and translator between the two, though it seemed Romano opted to instead listen with interest to the conversation taking place before him. He could not understand most of the words that spilled from both speakers, but it was nonetheless interesting to watch how they interacted with one another. In only a short matter of time, lodgings were squared away and the two were invited to supper. Tío Julio's treat, it seemed.

As the next few days passed, Romano was allowed to share Antonio's room until he could get settled in with the farmhand quarters. Work was not required of them. Tío Diego deemed it as unfit for the new arrivals, insisting instead that they spent the first few days resting and mentally preparing themselves. Through the time, Antonio learned much of his uncles, and relayed the information to his Italian-speaking partner.

Julio was a cheery man. Always had plenty to say, and would delve greatly into stories. A man with a heart larger than his head, he often showed sympathy whenever the topic of the lovers' depression came about. He admitted that yes, he knew of it through Antonio's older brother, but Miguel had failed to mention that Romano, too, suffered the same fate. (Antonio had shared that tidbit of information after Romano's approval.) He reassured the two of their security on the farm, giving his promise that he would not turn them away for something as simple as that.

All in all, Antonio had taken quite the liking to his biological uncle.

The other uncle, Diego, was of a quieter demeanor. Preferring to work in the garden over conversation, he wasn't often found in the normal discussions between Romano, Antonio, and Julio. It wasn't that he wasn't social. No, quite the contrary. On the fourth day, he did open up a little more than he had been, only to reveal that he was one who was just a tad bit shy when it came to those he didn't know, personally. It had been over lunch, when the four of them decided on an outing to a restaurant in town — about a fifteen minute drive down the same road Romano and Antonio had come from, past other farms and ranches.

After those first few days, Romano was placed in the building nearest to the fields, for he had chosen the work of farming over the work of caring for the horses. With his background in tending for plants, Tío Deigo thought it would be best to place him where he would be most comfortable. The tomato fields were in need of another hand, he had told the Italian.

Antonio, on the other hand, kept his guest room in the main house. While the quarters were well-kept, cleanly, and offered a separate room for each member of their team, it was Julio's stubborn defiance that lead to Antonio staying in the guest room. He still had to earn his keep, he was told, and he was soon to pick up his own work in the stables.

And by the end of the day, the best part of it was, Romano and Antonio were able to see each other. It was far from forbidden. If anything, the landowners welcomed Romano in with welcome arms, and though they could not communicate efficiently, they tried their best to convey their meanings through gestures — though after a few months of this, it seemed that they each began to at least understand the general meaning of the words they spoke to one another.

A knock interrupted Antonio from his writings, and his eyes flicked to the entryway just as the door swung open to reveal a worn-down Italian. The Spaniard gave a grin as he leaned back, eyes following the man as he simply walked to the bed, kicking off his shoes as he walked. "Long day?" He questioned as Romano fell forward and landed with a FWUMP on the comforter. "I hope you showered. I just changed those sheets."

"I did," Romano's muffled voice replied.

He knew that it was hard work for the both of them, but really? This much? Antonio couldn't help but chuckle as he lowered his pen, pushing away from his desk. His body ached from the day's work, but he instead ignored it. He had the weekend off, a chance to rest his weary limbs and his tender feet.

"Alright, then I guess you're allowed to lay there," Antonio answered. He pushed the chair back into its place and carefully strode over to the bed. "But you know," he paused so he could sit at the edge of the bed, "I'm not gonna leave you alone." He flopped over, pivoting onto his hip, and pulled the Italian into his arms. There was a groan of protest, but Antonio chose to ignore it as he nestled into the wet locks. Sure enough, he could still smell the soap clinging to Romano's scent. He held on tighter, letting out a noise of approval at the general feeling of his lover in his arms. God, it felt like forever... Yet it was just yesterday.

Much to Antonio's delight, Romano gave up in his fidgeting soon after he was pulled over, and the Spaniard refused to relinquish his grip. Not that the other seemed to mind, however. Antonio let out a hum of approval at this, simply in bliss that he could even hold Romano like this. His eyes sliding closed, he murmured, "I don't see why you don't just take up the offer to move in with me..."

Romano shifted in Antonio's arms, rolling onto his side and pressing his forehead into the crook of the man's neck. Lazily, he let his arm flop around the other's waist, giving a loose shrug. "Don't wanna deal with your crazy uncles," he joked.

"Aww, c'mon, they're not that crazy! They just..."

"Really like partying with the farmhands and stablehands?"

"That too..." Antonio breathed out a sigh and shifted against Romano, loosening his grip. His features softened, ever so slightly. "I just miss you..." He admittedly softly.

For a moment, Romano was silent. Antonio feared he had fallen asleep, with how still he lay, his breaths shallow and slow. But the shifting told him otherwise, as Romano pulled away and rolled back onto his stomach. Propping himself up on his elbows to gaze at Antonio, he watched as the elder rolled onto his back to return the gaze. "Even if I were to room with you, I'd still be seein' you for about the same amount of time, give or take a few hours," he pointed out. He reached forward to brush a lock of hair out of his lover's eyes, before pushing his fingers into the soft curls. His eyes followed the motion. "I spend all my free time here. End up fallin' asleep with you, most nights. My room's the cleanest it's ever been, and that's because I'm never in it."

"Except to sleep," Antonio gently reminded.

A nod. "Except to sleep."

The hand slowly lowered to his jaw, and Antonio pressed his cheek into the calloused palm. They had been softer back in Italy, he noted. But he did not mind this. He had no qualms with the rough skin. If anything, it was proof of Romano's new life. Of their new life.

When he opened his eyes, there was a smile, ever so gentle, that filled his gaze. He could help but to return it, his muscles tugging at the corners of his lips. He propped himself up on his elbow, his other hand reaching behind Romano's neck to pull him down for a kiss. It was sweet, and gentle, and so very loving. Antonio had long since memorised the feel of his lover's lips, but oh, each time he kissed him, it felt like the very first time... His heart still beat wildly in his chest, his hands still trembled, his breath still faltered.

He was right. He would fall in love with Romano, over and over. And God, he never wanted to stop... Even now, he could feel love blossoming once again, deep within his chest.

The kiss ended just as soft and sweetly as it had begun, and Antonio let his hand rest on the back of Romano's neck as their foreheads pressed together. He offered a smile of his own, this time, as their eyes met. "I still think you should move in," he commented.

A snort, and Romano rolled his eyes, grabbing up the pillow. He shoved it into the Spaniard's face, a smirk overtaking his lips. "And I'll have to think about that," he answered.

Despite their tired and weary bodies, so very pained from the day's hard labour, neither of them would rest that night.

For months on end, the same conversation replayed itself. A different day, a different scenario, but the same exact topic. Romano, each time, refused the offer, even bringing up not wanting to intrude on the uncles. With each passing day, their love only seemed to grow, and Antonio only proved himself to be right, each and every time he laid eyes upon the wondrous beauty he could call his own. He learned just who Romano was, he learned him inside and out, yet at the same time, he felt as if he didn't know the man at all.

Romano was a tricky one, he had come to realise. No, he was not an ever-changing being. He did have a pattern to his actions, to his own existence. But it was in the way that fire was unpredictable. Romano was awe-inspiring, gorgeous, warm, so very protective. He was passionate about the things he loved, and that was the surefire way to have him rambling like an excited child on Christmas Day. Given that he would actually open up to you, that is.

Antonio had the pleasure of seeing just this.

Winter came and winter left. Spring soon followed, and the farmwork picked up once more. Romano had been promoted to higher position, and instructed others on how to grow and tend to the crops, and though his hours had been cut, his pay had been raised to accommodate that. Spring soon turned to summer, and in the thick summer heat of the Spanish fields, the pair continued their duties of their lives. It had become a passion of the both of theirs, it seemed; Antonio caring for the horses, and Romano caring for the plants.

As the days progressed, new rumours began to sweep through the quarters. The farm would be handed down, in time, to a younger suitor. One who showed great interest in continuing on the Carriedo name. Or at least the business itself. Romano was quick to catch the rumour, himself, but when he confronted Antonio with it, the man simply laughed nervously and said it would only happen under special circumstances.

Romano just didn't know that Antonio was true to his word. The special circumstances had been set in place; Antonio just had played it off as if there were none.

That was all about to change, however.

Walking hand-in-hand, the pair roamed the streets of the small village, talking away of their adventures on the estate. Antonio told of the new foal that had been born only a few weeks prior, while Romano spoke of a young boy by the name of Mateo who had taken a liking to him. A younger sibling, Romano had commented with pride. Antonio was quick to catch this, however, and teasingly shot back about the boy instead being their son, for Mateo was also one who ran errands for the stables. This earned bright red cheeks and flustered stutterings, before Romano opted to instead lightly shove into Antonio with his shoulder, eyes darting away.

Antonio merely laughed at this, his fingers tightening around Romano's, and reassured the other that he was simply joking. A huff as a response, and he gently ran his thumb along the outside of Romano's hand.

His eyes flicked away from his lover, focusing instead on the darkening sky above them. Already, it seemed there were stars beginning to peek through the sparse clouds. "Aah, man... It's really been a year, huh...?" A questioning hum from beside him and Antonio chuckled, glancing once again to Romano. "You didn't notice? It's been a year since we got together."

Romano regarded Antonio for a moment before staring ahead of them. His cheeks tinted pink. "No, I noticed. Just didn't realise you were talkin' about that." He drove his free hand into his pocket, squaring his shoulder as he did so. Cute...

Antonio's gaze softened as he looked to his lover, gently coaxing him to the side of the street. Just beside them lay the entrance to the park, where couples strolled with their hands interlaced, despite the heat of summer's night. "Romano..." he spoke quietly to catch the man's attention. It worked. As soon as eyes were upon him, he lifted his free hand to brush a lock of hair back, tucking it behind an ear. He then ran his knuckles, ever so gently, down Romano's cheek. The Italian leaned into the gentle touch. "You've made me... the happiest I've ever been. You gave me a chance to fix what I ruined.

"I know I... haven't done the best in my past." His eyes flicked away and his hand lowered, but not without the gentlest of kisses to his knuckles on its descent.

"Neither have I. We don't exactly have the cleanest of records, idiot."

"Shush, just let me speak." A chuckle from the man before him, and Antonio started again. "The point is... You let me start over. Completely and entirely.

"I know... Neither of us are 'fixed' or 'cured.' There are still nights we cry, still nights we wonder why we're even here..." Romano's gaze flicked away, but Antonio brought it back by cupping the other's chin in his forefinger and thumb. "But we're not alone. You gave me something nobody else has ever given me before.

"Romano, you gave me my life back."

Romano's lips parted, but before he could speak Antonio was lowering. He stared in mild confusion, and then surprise, as the man dipped down to one knee, his hand fishing into his jeans pocket.

And from within, he withdrew a small box. "It's... It's not much." His hands trembled violently as he pulled away from Romano. His voice cracked as he spoke, his eyes flicking down as he opened the small box. "But I... I hope you like it." It was a simple gold band. No gems, nothing special. Just a simple gold band.

When his gaze was back to Romano, he noticed instantly the other's eyes were as wide as they could be, his mouth slightly agape. He swallowed thickly, and in the steadiest tone he could muster, "Romano Giulio Vargas... Vuoi sposarmi?" He tried his best. God, he tried his absolute best not to butcher the pronunciation... But with so many phone calls to Feliciano, so many hours of practicing, he hoped he got it right.

Out of all the possible outcomes, he did not expect to suddenly be met with laughter.

Romano had been staring silently, but after a short moment, he snorted, until laughter poured from him. He wiped tears from his eyes with the butt of his palm, waving his hand dismissively as he spouted Italian apologies. He then reached into his pocket, "I don't mean to laugh, it's just," he withdrew a box, "You beat me to it." Chuckling ensued and he sniffled, wiping at his eyes. "O santo cielo... And here I was, so worried about..." His voice trailed off in a fit of chuckles as he opened the box and presented his own ring — a silver band.

"Get up off your knee, you doofus." Antonio did, staring in shock toward the Italian. "C'mon, give me that and I'll give you this."

Hesitantly, Antonio stared. His eyes flicked from Romano, to the ring in his own hand, to Romano again. "So that's..."

Romano nodded. "Sì. Sì, Antonio, sì," he whispered.

Laughing loudly, Antonio pushed forward and wrapped his arms around Romano's waist, lifting him off the ground in a bone-crushing hug. Romano was quick to return the hug with just the same amount of force, burying his face into the crook of his lover's neck. "Yes... He said yes!" Antonio laughed as he kissed at Romano's face, again and again, and then finally, his lips. He had forgotten about the rings, forgotten about even trading them. Right now, there was only Romano, there were only his lips, only his answer. The rings could come later.

So there you have it. We don't need a reason for anything we feel. Whether it's a good feeling, or a bad feeling. Whether tears of joy, or tears of sorrow. Sorrow comes, sorrow goes, just as happiness may come and go. Emotions are fickle things, in that way. They're as unpredictable as a raging fire, yet those happier ones will always return just as the sun will surely rise. You just have to be sure to look for the light in the darkness, no matter how faint it may be.

A/N: I think I may have forgotten to say this in the last chapter... Thank you so much for everything, everyone. Thank you so much for sticking with me, for reading and reviewing, for following and favouriting. It really means a lot to me, you don't even know. Thanks to your guys' support, this story really blossomed and has become something I'm proud of /)/w/(\ I just hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Well. With this, I bid Una Notte A Napoli a farewell.

Until next time!

~Alexander Ryan