He used to work here.

Lovino twists his beret in his hands uncomfortably as he gazes at the ruined building, eyes tracing the fake plaster lions and dragons that adorn the roof and the way the fake ivy has now meshed in with the real overgrowth; belonging there and yet completely alien. The sign where they used to display the titles of films he no longer cares to remember is crooked and leaning slightly off, as if a gust of wind would send it crashing down. The entire left front wall is riddled with holes that ugly sunlight filters through, fading the seats and carpet of the cinema. They are from the riots, but that's another memory Lovino would prefer not to relive. It was such a long time ago, anyway. It seems intangible, like a dream.

He walks stiffly to the front of the theater, boots and crane crunching in the thick autumn leaves that litter the disused parking lot. No one's been here in a long, long time except for vandals and the occasional lost minivan that quickly backs down the long back road upon sight of this once-magnificent ruin. It's not a good place. No, no, it's not a good place. It exudes a faint aura of regret and age, sighing of things left undone, unsaid, unloved. There's a reason no one's bought this place. Its history has marked it, just like history marked Lovino.

He reaches the large red doors and runs his hand across the handle painted a cheap gold before pulling it open with difficulty as he's not as strong as he used to be. It's not locked. Of course it's not locked.

Inside, the refreshment stands and ticket booth are completely trashed. Holes smashed by bats mar the cases that candy bars once rested behind and the popcorn cart is overturned, a sparking array of glass chips surrounding it. Lovino wrinkles his nose and continues on, trying not to look at the counter at the far left. That's where he and Antonio worked when they were twenty years old, in their prime and with their whole lives ahead of them. He wasn't here to reminisce about refilling drinks and making change and 'accidentally' bumping his hips against Antonio's when he was certain the other wasn't looking. A light blush dusts his face as he thinks how childish that was. But instead of turning, he continues on.

Lovino limps through the door at the far end of the spacious lobby, sidestepping the mouse-eaten fake velvet ropes and trotting slowly down the dark hallway. After all these years, it still smells like smoke. If he listens hard enough, he can almost hear the screams. The ghostly echoes of rioters haunt him even today, wrapping their cold, cold hands around his heart and breathing melancholy into his dull hazel eyes. Age has not been quite as kind to him as he would've hoped, but he still contains the wraith of his good looks he once possessed as a young man.

He enters Theater B cautiously, the only one that is mostly untouched by the fire. The seats in the back row are a little blackened, but it scarcely matters now. Lovino only sits in the front anyway.

Gazing at the large screen looming in front of him, he takes his seat (seventh down in the third row from the left), plopping into it with a relieved sigh and tossing his cane aside. It's good to rest and the walk here from his apartment is a long one. He sheds his pea coat easily and reclines in the chair.

At last he falls into an uneasy doze, face twitching as specters of long ago gently brush their lips against his and whisper sad little nothings in his ears. You don't belong here anymore. This isn't your time.

When he awakes an hour later, the cinema is different. It's lit and busy and faceless people mull about him, chatting about inane things and filling in the rows. Even the burnt ones are restored to their former splendor.

He looks to his left, almost afraid of what he will or won't see. It's been a long time and he wonders if maybe Antonio's not here anymore. Maybe Antonio left him behind for good. Honestly, he wouldn't blame him.

But there he is, grinning as always in the dimness of the movie theater, green eyes sparkling with unbridled joy. "Lovi! You're back!"

Someone shushes him from the back as the lights slowly began to shut off and the film began to roll. Lovino pay no mind to it, attention entirely focused on the man in front of him, eyes watering slightly as he struggles to keep his composure. "O-of course I'm back, you bastard."

Antonio takes Lovino's now-smooth hands in his and fixes him with a worried expression. "You were gone for so long . . . why don't you visit me anymore?" He begins rubbing his thumbs on his love's wrists and Lovino decides he will let him.

"Feli wanted me to go to a psychiatrist," Lovino sighs. "You know how he gets. I shouldn't have told him about this. Luckily, I didn't have to go but he kept pretty close tabs on me for awhile. This is the first time he's let me out of his sight in ages. It makes me jealous how healthy he is despite the fact that he's only a few years younger than me."

Antonio kisses his nose and Lovino fights down the smile rising to his lips. "Feli just cares about you. Anyway, I missed you. It was so lonely without your visits."

Without warning, Lovino suddenly leans forward and buries his head in Antonio's chest. "I love you." Tears began to prick at the back of his eyes as he breathes in the other man's deep earthy scent. "I don't want to go back. I miss you."

Antonio wraps his arms around him, squeezing tightly as he rests his nose in his hair. "Oh, Lovi . . . I wish you could. I don't want to watch you grow old alone and sad."

Neither are paying attention to the movie, some cheesy romance that they've probably seen a million times, they merely hold each other in a way they thought they never would again.

"Why did you have to die, Antonio?" he whispers. "Getting old wouldn't be so bad if I were with you."

Antonio lifts Lovino's head slightly and kisses him softly. They break away and Lovino stares at him with watery eyes filled with longing. His usual brash exterior has completely melted away because, for now, he no longer needs it to protect him. "Life isn't life when you're not holding my hand."

"I'm sorry, Lovino," Antonio murmurs, kissing him again. "My offer still stands, you know."

Lovino kisses back fiercely, tangling his fingers in Antonio's hair, as if to keep him real, keep him here. But even as he kisses and kisses he feels the other's lips grow cold, saw the masses disappear one by one and saw the couple on screen share one last final peck before fading away from the screen. Nothing good lasts. No love can last forever.

He feels himself aging again, eyes growing bags and cheeks becoming thin and sallow while Antonio stays the same. And somehow he knows that maybe it's time for him to leave this movie theater for good. He's stayed here long enough and the memories of riots and fire have no place in his heart after seventy long years.

Antonio starts to fade away, but this time, Lovino doesn't let go. This time, Lovino keeps hold of his hand, surprising his otherworldly lover. And then, he knows too. It's time for tired old Lovino to leave.

And so they leave together, hand in hand, just as it should be.