"Is there something bothering you, Veneziano?"
The addressed young man lifted his face from his meal at the question. Across him on the table, a pair of violet eyes were leveled at him, calm and collected. Austria had put his fork and napkin away even though his plate was still half full and folded his palms neatly on the table, waiting.
"What do you mean, Mr. Austria?" Veneziano had to restrain himself from cringing under that gaze. Even though it'd been over a century since he was under the control of the bespectacled nation, old habits die hard. Most of the time when Austria looked at him like that, he felt like he might have done something wrong. The older man sighed quietly.
"You need to stop being like that. You are most certainly not a child anymore."
Veneziano shook his head sheepishly, a small embarrassed smile crept into his face. "Ve, sorry. What is it, Mr. Austria?"
"You were, no, are distracted," The timbre of Austria's voice is smooth and leveled, it always reminded him of graceful fingers on the keys, of music light in the air, of calm water. "It is not usual to see you like this, even though you indeed are distracted most of the times we meet." There was a hint of a smile in his voice, but Austria kept his face neutral.
Veneziano smiled a bit before letting it fade. He twirled the carbonara in his plate absently, trying to rearrange his thoughts. "Ve, well…"
"Is it something you can't tell me?" He didn't know since when, but Austria had become some sort of parental figure to him, despite his strict personality. While being under his control hadn't been an entirely pleasant experience for him, but it hadn't been bad either. The former monarch nation showed kindness from time to time, and it had meant so much for the little Veneziano that had just been separated from his brother at the time and whose land was in chaos because of the internal struggles. That was why he didn't want them to being distant again now that he was independent. Treating him to a meal whenever he came for diplomatic business was one of his way to do so.
"No, I mean it's not like I can't tell, but I just don't know where to start." Veneziano bit his lower lip and huffed lightly, leaving his fork.
"Straight to the point would be a good start," Austria suggested, fixing his glasses. Veneziano hesitated for a moment, contemplating, before finally saying.
"Do you believe in rebirth, Mr. Austria?"
Austria blinked, clearly not expecting the question. But he regained his composure quickly, as expected from him, and contemplated the question for a moment. "I'm afraid not. What does this have to do with your problem?" But it only needed a long, studying look at his face for his former protégée to understand. The calm expression faded into a gloom one, bitter and knowing.
"I met my brother," He didn't need to hold it any longer that Austria had understood. Veneziano hadn't been ready to tell the other nations about this, but Austria was different. For him Austria was like a parent, someone who would understand, someone who could give him explanation, someone who could comfort him in his own way. "And he's… he's human."
"What makes you believe that he's your brother?" Austria's voice was gentle, but his tone was sharp. Veneziano tried not to flinch. He knew he sounded and acted silly, but this was the only explanation, right?
"He looks just like him," He rushed to continue when he saw the older nation opened his mouth to cut him. "He was born in the same date as him, he even has his name, Mr. Austria!"
"And would that indicate that he's your brother?" Austria's gaze hardened. "Thousands of people in this world share the same name. You surely don't need me to tell you that."
"No, this one can't be just a coincidence." He knew what Austria was going to say and continued before he had the chance. "I checked his citizen file. His name is Lovino Romano Vargas. Mr. Austria, he doesn't only have his human name, he also has his name as a nation, even though I know Romano isn't an unusual name for us Italians."
Long silence fell between them as Austria let his words sink in. Veneziano didn't move, stiff like a rock on his place. He was afraid that if he made even one small movement, his belief would waver. After what felt like hours, Austria let out a long, tired sigh. His gaze softened when he lifted his eyes to meet with Veneziano's desperate ones, violet into hazel. "You are not wrong to believe in that, but…" He paused, waiting for any sign that his opinion wasn't wanted, but there was none. To be honest, it was what Veneziano thought he needed, although he was too afraid to ask.
"I believe that he's not your brother, Veneziano." It was one answer that he knew might be true, was aware that must be true, but didn't want to accept. Because there was no way there were 2 people in this world who were identical even though they weren't related. Because his brother had been a nation, and nation couldn't really die, right? Prussia, Gilbert, was no longer a nation but he was still there, all in the shadow of his past glory.
But Grandpa Rome died and didn't come back
Holy Rome went to war, perished as a nation, and never came back
as for your brother,
no, he didn't want to hear it.
"If he had died a nation, rebirth might be possible, still unlikely though it was, but…" Austria let the words faded, but Veneziano didn't need him to finish. He knew the continuation, because that was one other thing that had been repeatedly jabbing on his hope, cracking it bit by bit everytime it did.
he died as a human
"I know…" He didn't cry this time, but he felt so hollow inside, much more than how he felt when he saw Lovino with Marcello. He didn't see Austria's face, but he could hear the sincerity in his voice when he spoke.
"I'm so sorry, Feliciano."
"Don't-" His breath was caught in his throat when the words clicked inside his head. He clenched his eyes shut but the red invaded the inner side of his eyelids, blooming crimson flowers on the bleak wall and him reflected in the clouds of his brother's hazel eyes. "Don't say that. Don't call me that, please."
"I'm so sorry, Feliciano."
"I apologize," Austria had returned to being all formal again, but right now Veneziano couldn't bring himself to really care.
-o-
Marcello's clear green eyes widened when he spotted him outside the school gate, but the wide grin breaking into his face made it clear that he was happy to see him. "Feliciano! Hi!" He skipped toward him and his grin changed into a relieved smile. "You okay now?"
"Yep!" He subtly wondered how it would feel to have a younger brother, maybe one like Marcello, all happiness and energy and the almost mature innocence. The thought about it reminded him of a younger brother he indeed had, with similar lemon green eyes and similar face, one that he so rarely saw because Seborga spent more time with his fellow micronations than in Italy. He idly wondered if there were really humans who looked like them, the personification of nations, in this world. "I want to say sorry for the other day," He clapped his hand in apology and bowed his head slightly, a gesture he learned from Japan. "Sorry that I ruined the lunch, ve."
"Don't worry about it," Marcello's tone was light but his smile was understanding. He didn't shrug Feliciano's apology off and took him seriously, and he was helpless because that meant all the more reason for him not to hate the boy. "You don't have to come all the way here just to apologize. By the way, how did you know my school?"
"I have connections," They both laughed at that. "Ve, let me treat you to something, as an apology for that other day."
"Seriously?!" The lemon green eyes lit up even more. "You don't have to, though."
"I want to, so come on," He turned on his heel and let Marcello fell into steps next to him, the energy of their steps resonated with each other. "What do you want to eat?"
He hadn't expected Marcello to choose gelato out of all possible food, considering it was more of a treat, but the younger boy was so sure about his choice and they found themselves sitting around the fountain in a small public park, licking their cold treat under the blazing summer sun.
"How are you with Lovi?" Marcello asked after a while, glancing up at him through the fringe of his red hair.
"What do you mean?" He blinked his daze away and looked down at him. In that close distance, he could see the brown shade of Marcello's hair under the sun and silently admitted that the boy might not be that different from his brother.
"Lovi isn't really the nicest person to be around," Marcello licked the last of the cream before starting with the cone. "I just want to know how you're sparing with him."
"We're doing good," Feliciano licked his melting gelato more slowly, savoring the cold sensation that soothed his dry throat. "And Romano's a nice friend. I don't have any problem with him."
"Seriously?" Marcello raised a brow teasingly at him. "Don't worry, I won't tell Lovi, so you can be honest, you know."
"No, no, I was serious." Feliciano laughed and unconsciously reached down to ruffle his hair, before realizing that the younger boy might not like that. "Sorry."
"No problem, Lovi does that to me too sometimes," Marcello grinned to him. "So you really were telling the truth? Wow, you must be a saint, Feliciano! My brother tends to piss most of the people off before they decide to be his friends."
Truthfully, he'd expected the words, about how Lovino did the same thing to Marcello as his brother did to him, but it still stung so much, that right now the stranger in his brother's, no, in Lovino's life wasn't Marcello, but him. No matter how he looked, how he talked, the things he liked and how he smiled, Lovino wasn't his brother. He needed to get used to it.
"I… like Romano," He said softly. "He might not be nice all the time, but I'm okay with that. That's just because he doesn't want to look weak in front of other people. I think it's just his way to defend himself." He thought of Spain and suddenly felt a new kind of respect and gratitude towards the nation who'd been able to look past the defense, long before he himself had been, and who'd chosen to love his brother wholly, both the true person inside the shell and the façade he put up to face the rest of the world. "He's a great person inside, I know it."
And I love you just the way you are, fratello
Only when the words left his mouth that the waves of regret came, drowning him in years that had passed by without him ever having the chance to say that to his brother. He quickly returned to finishing his gelato to avoid looking at Marcello. He felt that he wouldn't be able to even fake a smile if he did something as much as turning his head. It was just too much for him, the feelings that had been crashing down into his heart and showing no sign to stop soon.
"I know I'm still a kid, but I can tell that you're telling the truth," Marcello hopped onto his feet and twirled around to face him, grinning. "Believe me, even though I said those things just now, I'm glad to hear someone saying that about my brother. I know he's actually a nice person; he just has difficulties to express it. Although at the times we get into a fight, I'm always convinced that he's a jerk." A similar grin came into Feliciano's face before he could suppress it. "So, please be nice with my brother, will you, Feliciano?" There was a gentle glint in his eyes as he said it.
"I wonder which one of you is the older brother?" Marcello laughed at that and skipped backward, still waiting for his answer. "Don't worry, Marcello, I will." He hoped the boy knew that he truly meant it when he said it.
-o-
Dinner as an apology seemed fair, considering he'd practically ruined the mood at lunch the previous days. Feliciano watched with a small smile on his face and a dull throb in his heart as Lovino looked around his living room. His steps were careful and his olive eyes wandered carefully, taking everything in. It was strange to see him like that, the man who looked so much like his brother he had almost convinced himself once again that it was his brother standing there, looking as if he'd never been into his own house. "Take a seat anywhere," He offered, stepping out from the living room and into the kitchen, only separated with a doorframe. "And don't peek," He added teasingly as he slipped the apron on, earning a disbelieving frown from the other.
"Who would want to?" Feliciano caught a glance of the cocking of his eyebrow before Lovino turned around to inspect the paintings on the wall. "So, you paint?"
"Yep," He absently stroked the smooth surface of a tomato, feeling more and more like a stranger from the question. "I like painting. It's fun, and it makes me feel fulfilled, ve."
Lovino hummed in response and for a moment there was no more words exchanged between them. Feliciano immersed himself in the lulling sounds of his kitchen utensils making contact against each other and wondered briefly if he should try and ask Lovino to do this with him, like he and his brother used to do back then. He glanced through his shoulders and saw him moving to the photos on the fireplace rack. Against his will, his mind wandered to a cardboard box carefully tucked behind spare canvases and fading old paintings in the storage, the cardboard box filled with the reminder of the centuries passed, all tears and smiles, loneliness and finding warmth in each other, but also of the red and grey day in the mansion, of the white hot fury boiling inside him and I won't forgive you I won't forgive you I won't forgive you.
He left the water to boil and stood next to Lovino, smiling lightly as he noticed the photos the brunette was looking at. "My friends. This one's Ludwig, and this one's Kiku. The one wearing the dress is Feliks. He likes to crossdress." He added with a chuckle at the sight of Lovino's questioning gaze.
"You sure have weird friends," Lovino frowned at the photo with Ludwig. "And your German friend looks like a hunk of potato. Offense intended."
Feliciano choked a laughter, too relieved that at least in that matter, Lovino had the same opinion as his brother. He'd started to doubt what Austria said and what he had convinced himself with difficulty to believe. Maybe Lovino was really his brother. "Don't say that. Ludwig's a good guy."
"I don't like Germans," Lovino snorted. "Just looking at them makes me fucking angry."
"Why?"
"They fucking annoy me, that's all. The water's boiled,"
"Oh, right!" He strode back to the kitchen, his steps a little too quick but he had started thinking of the false hope again, silly, and he didn't care for a moment. As he looked down at the bubbles gurgling on the surface of the water like lava, the familiarity of Lovino's presence and Austria's words kept repeating inside his head, persistent like blood sticking to his fingers and stung like the hot steam the boiling water set off. He clicked the stove off a little too roughly and stood still for a moment, letting the war inside his head rage on before finally it came to a decision and subsided a bit.
It was enough, twenty years of clinging to the feelings his brother's death caused and two months of basking in the aching warmth of his presence, it had to be enough.
The dinner was quick, but relaxed, with them talking about trivial matters such as food, weather, and friends. Lovino had friends, he learned, and Feliciano genuinely felt glad for that. And from how Lovino talked about them, Maria, Alessandro, and Giovanni sounded like nice friends to be with.
After the dishes were washed, Feliciano had no more reason to stall with what he had decided to do, and wondering himself why he was so reluctant to do it, he asked as casually as possible. "Ve, Romano, after your next shift, can we talk about… something?" Can we talk about you and my brother?
"Sure, why not," Lovino shrugged and plopped down on the couch, not looking uneasy in the slightest. Feliciano sat down next to him and very subtly inched closer. He sighed in relief inwardly when the other didn't move away.
"My next shift, eh…" Lovino trailed away for a moment, frowning in thought. "I don't think we can talk this week, or the next. I'll be taking much later shift in those times, and after that I have to go straight home. I need to help Marcello with his midterm exam."
"You change shift? Why?"
"My school will have a concert in the parent-teacher conference two weeks after this, something about showing how good the school has educated us and the other bullshits, and I'm a member of the music club, so I have to practice everyday after school starting this week." Masking the slightly guilty expression with a scowl, he added. "So your talk better not be something important because it has to wait."
It was definitely something important and Feliciano would rather tell Lovino as soon as possible before his resolution wavered again, but at the moment he was so excited learning that Lovino played instrument, he didn't paint like Romano but he played instrument and both music and painting were art so it meant one more similarity, one more link to his brother, that he had momentarily forgotten that he shouldn't care anymore. "You play instrument? What do you play?" He bounced lightly on his spot, rocking the couch with each movement and leaning forward in his joy. "I have a friend who plays the piano, and another one who plays guitar! And I think my acquaintance from Norway plays violin, but I'm not so sure, ve. What instrument do you play, Romano?"
Clearly surprised by his reaction, Lovino inched backward and frowned crossly at him. A familiar tint of red dusted the tip of his ears. "W-why are you suddenly so damn happy?! Get away from me!" He shoved Feliciano back down onto the other end of the couch and scooted farther himself, flushing.
Be it Lovino or Romano, they shoved hard. Feliciano was almost gleeful from the fact, if not from the thought of it being slightly not normal, enjoying such harsh gesture. But he shook it off and leapt back onto his previous spot, unperturbed by the treatment. "Ve, so what do you play, Romano?"
"At least sit down properly first, dumbass! You fucking creep me out!" Feliciano obeyed and bounced back onto his bottom, swinging his leg under him on the floor. He smiled expectantly at the taller brunette and Lovino sighed in disbelief.
"I play piano. Satisfied?" He glared at him, but there was no real anger in those eyes. Feliciano's smile widened. "W-what now?!"
"Can I come and see you play? Please please please?" He could guess the answer, but it wouldn't hurt to ask.
"Hell, no!" Lovino leveled him with his most terrifying glare, but Feliciano didn't even flinch. "No! You can't come to the meeting anyway."
"Then at least can I watch you practice?" Italy Veneziano, Feliciano Vargas, was never one to back down. "I promise I won't be a problem."
"No." Lovino deadpanned and leapt onto his feet. "What the hell… I'll go home now."
"Ve… I won't, I won't! So don't go home yet, please?" Feliciano reached for his hand and gave him his most pitiful pleading look. Lovino had long fingers, and the inner of his palm was rough but warm against his softer hand, just like his brother's. But Lovino slipped his hand out and away from his all too soon, and he lamented for the loss of the familiar warmth.
"Okay, okay, stop clinging to me." Submitting to the desperate pleading look on those hazel eyes, Lovino sat back down and grabbed a cushion, setting it on his lap. "But if you bring that up again, I'll go home for real. Capisci?"
"Si, si, I won't," Feliciano promised, glad of the other's kind act. They didn't talk about that anymore later that evening, but that didn't mean Feliciano had given up about it. Lovino didn't agree of him coming to see him, but if he didn't know, then it wouldn't be a problem, right?
-o-
Germany had said that he made a terrible spy, but Veneziano allowed himself to feel a little proud as he walked through the hallway of the school trying to find the music room. He'd made it into the school without people as much as glancing twice at him. The crowd of students eager to go home had thinned and dissipated not too long ago, and now he could only spot few of them hanging around in the yard and another several in the soccer field, practicing. After strolling through classes and several other rooms, he finally found what he'd been looking for. The music room's door had no window to look inside, so very carefully, Veneziano pushed the door open slightly, just enough for him to get a clear look of half of the room. He could see the teacher in charge was standing in front of the room, his eyes closed behind his glasses and his head nodded with the rhythm of the music. He could also see the students who played violin and clarinet, but given his limited view, no more. Pouting lightly, Veneziano leaned forward slightly, right at the time the teacher spotted him. The bespectacled man gave him a questioning look, and Veneziano quickly smiled and shook his head, wordlessly motioning him to continue.
Clearly unable to ignore him, the teacher told his charges to stop for a break and exited the room. Looking at the redhead before him with a confused, but polite gaze, he said, "May I know who you are, young man? I don't think you are from this school."
"I'm Feliciano. I have a friend here and I came to see him play," Staying young for eternity sure had his props. It didn't arise suspicion in people and he would be believed easily. The teacher's face softened into a smile. "Why don't you come in then? I assure you it won't be a problem. We're practicing for the school's concert and my students need to practice playing in front of audiences."
"Ve, I'd love to, but you see," Feliciano shifted nervously on his feet. "My friend didn't want me to see him. So I have to do this in secret."
The teacher chuckled lightly on his response. "Which one's your friend?"
"Romano. I think he's the one who plays the piano."
The older man hummed in response. "Ah, yes. Not talented, but his dedication is remarkable. Too bad his family can't afford to have him trained by a piano teacher."
It was only then that Feliciano was reminded that Lovino was one of his brother's people. Their people, but one who came from his brother's land, the part of the country where life was more difficult in spite of being the part of a prosperous country. Just like back then, even as Venice and Lombardy and Piedmont flourished, Sicily and Naples and Sardinia were starved and impoverished. He had to restrain from biting his lips. "I see. Do you know him well, sir?"
"Not really," The teacher seemed to be thinking for a moment. "He didn't talk much. Only ask me once if playing piano can earn him money." Noticing the frown that had started to form on the young man's face, he smiled comfortingly. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"
Realizing that he'd been frowning, Feliciano quickly covered it with a smile. "Ve, yes, I think I will. But please don't tell him I'm here?" The teacher laughed at his beaming face and nodded. "Alright, I won't."
-o-
The practice ended not too long before the sun set. One by one the students put their instruments back into their cases and tidied up a bit before leaving, giving him more than one curious glance as they exited the room. He saw the teacher told Lovino not to go home too late before leaving himself, giving him a smile as he passed him at the door. As the voices from the students dissipated, Feliciano risking a step into the room and quietly tiptoed into a corner. Lovino didn't seem to notice him, frowning with concentration at his music notes. Then he placed his fingers on the key, hesitantly at first, and took a breath.
The music started quick enough, a solo start just like the one he heard before in the practice. But as the music came to the climax, it sounded different and somewhat lacking in his ears, as it was composed to be played in a group. Lovino seemed to notice it too because the light frown that had been inhabiting his face deepened. He finished with a bang of his fingers onto the keys and breathed out, glaring at the music note as if it had done something to offend him.
Not wanting to hide any longer, Feliciano stepped deeper into the room until he came into view, smiling sheepishly at the shocked look on Lovino's face. "Y-you!" He cringed at the yell and braced himself for the physical and verbal wave that would sure to come.
"You motherfucker bastard! Why in God's name are you here?!" Lovino whirled on his seat and gave him the most ferocious glare he'd ever seen, even from his brother. "Oh holy Jesus in heaven, you lied! You little stupid jackass! I should've known I shouldn't believe you!"
"Ve, s-sorry, don't be mad," Raising his hands in defense, Feliciano braced another step into the room, closing on to the piano but stayed in a safe distance out of Lovino's soon-to-come wrath. "I really, really want to see you play, Romano. And you play really well! I-I don't see why you don't want me to see, ve."
Lovino was silent for a moment, clearly trying to retain his anger. Feliciano didn't dare to say anything or move for a moment, trying to look as scared as possible. Eventually, Lovino let out a long sigh. "Okay, guess I overreacted too…" He shot him a sharp glare and Feliciano who'd just felt relieved, yelped and backed away slightly. "But that doesn't mean I forgive you for that, you lying asshole."
"Ve… Why do you against me coming to see you so bad?" Feliciano pulled a vacant chair and seated himself, pouting at the brunette. "Like I said, you play really well. Nothing to be ashamed of."
Lovino huffed and spun around to face the piano again. "Nothing, really. I just don't like it if people know I can play the piano. It's… embarrassing." He shrugged. "I'm not that good at this, so I just don't want people to know."
Feliciano never really come to know the feelings of being embarrassed at himself. He'd never paid real attention to what people might think of him. He lived the way he wanted to, and he was never ashamed of it. Maybe his brother had been like that, but Romano had never been this honest to him, so this was the first time he learned that maybe his brother had had that kind of feeling. "Well, then this is your chance to practice, right? So someday you will have the confidence. And since I've known that you play piano and I honestly don't think you're bad, it's okay for me to watch you play now, isn't it?" He looked at him hopefully. Lovino gave him a long look across his shoulder before rolling his eyes and returning to the piano. "Whatever suits you."
Feliciano beamed at him. "Grazie, ve! So are you going to continue practice now? Because I really, really want to hear you play again. Another music would be better, though."
"Don't need you to tell me, dumbass," Lovino grumbled and started shuffling through his music notes. "I need to practice the new song too. The one I've been playing for practice is getting old." He pulled out one and smoothed it out before setting it on the music shelf.
Just like before, he started hesitantly, slowly building more confidence as the music strolled forward. The piece was calm, but not to the point of mellow, and in certain points it built up strength. It reminded Feliciano of the house they had back then several years after the unification. The house stood near the sea, its windows opening up to the sandy beach and rocky cliffs. It reminded him of their potted plants hung on the porch and of the sea breeze fluttering the curtain as if dancing with it. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, piecing together the faint images in his head until it formed a vivid one. He tried to picture his brother, but it was harder, and before he was able to, the music faded into an end. He opened his eyes and breathed out in disappointment, hoping that it went unnoticed.
"It was beautiful," He said after a moment as a genuine smile lit up his face. "What's the song called? Is this your first time playing it?"
"Aria. Giovanni Allevi was the one who composed it. And no, I've been practicing this for… what, two weeks?"
"I'll make sure I look for it," Feliciano breathed out another sigh. "It's beautiful. It reminds me of my old house somehow." He leaned forward and gave Lovino a poke on his back, smiling gently. "And honest, you played it really well."
He could see the blush forming on Lovino's face and the brunette didn't say anything for a moment. Then he turned around on his stool to face him, the shade of red was still present on his face. Feliciano repressed a chuckle at the sight. "You better stop with it, dumbass."
"With what?"
"Sugar-coated words," He blushed again and looked away. "It's just sounded… gross, and I might start believing it."
"I didn't sugar-coat it," Feliciano replied hastily, feeling his heart tightened at the sight he was so familiar of and words he'd been trying for years to convince as not true. "I really meant it when I said it. I like hearing you play."
Lovino blushed another shade darker and ducked his head to hide it, grumbling profanities under his breath. Feliciano smiled wistfully but didn't say anything, and they stayed in a companionable silence for a while.
"It's my brother." It slipped out of his tongue like breeze slipping through the opened window, lightly, harmlessly, weightlessly. He shifted his gaze from the darkening sky outside to Lovino's questioning olive eyes. "The one who looked like you, it's my brother."
"Is that what you wanted to talk about?" Lovino leaned back slightly to prop his back against the piano's front, holding his gaze evenly. There was no detectable emotions in those eyes and his tone was slow and patient. "I kind of figured it out, the one who looked like me. Because who else would have such similar physical appearance except brothers?"
Feliciano chuckled dryly. He knew that Lovino must've figured it out somehow, only really ignorant or blind people wouldn't. "Yup. My older twin brother. I don't bring a picture of him, but he really looked like you, except the color of his eyes."
Lovino hummed quietly in response and an uncomfortable moment of silence passed between them, cut short by the brunette's words. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Why did it take you this long to tell me that?" Feliciano blinked, didn't quite expect the question. "You could've told me back then when we first met," The last of the light outside filtering in through the glass window was reflected in his eyes, glazing it like it was polished. "Why now?"
"Because I was afraid that I might get close to you, more than I wanted," The thoughts and feelings that'd been inhabiting his heart those past two months rolled out through his tongue, unhindered like water flowing in the river, like blood in veins. "I didn't know whether or not I want to be close to you, and my head's been in a mess. I didn't even know what I want. I'm scared that you might not be my brother and I got it all wrong and…" He sighed and put his face in his hands. "I'm confused. That's why. And…"
He rubbed his eyes as tears threatened to fall. He didn't want to cry again. He'd done enough crying for his brother. "And I'm scared that once you know, you'll leave because I only see you as a replacement fot my brother."
There was yet another silence following his statement, a suffocating one it was. He didn't dare to lift his face, he didn't dare to look at Lovino. He'd known since the first time they met that he could never look at Lovino without thinking of Romano, but the guilt was overpowered by a desire to get his brother back. It never made sense to him, because he hated his brother, but he missed him all the same. He claimed he was not his brother anymore, but grieved for him.
"Why do you think of me as your brother?" Lovino's voice was quiet and Feliciano mustered the courage to look up. It was definitely an angry scowl that he wore, but his voice was strangely leveled. "Dead people won't come back. And if I guess right and you're a Catholic, reincarnation is not something we believe in."
"I know, but-" it's different for me and fratello, for beings like us. He bit his lip, not wanting to risk saying anything more. "I was really mad at him, hated him even, but," He buried his face in his hands again, suddenly feeling tired. Tired of fighting with his own thoughts. Tired of searching for his brother in this man. And maybe tired of hating and not forgiving. He hadn't realized that 20 years were enough to melt all those hatred because it all came back to one simple and genuine feeling. "I missed him so much."
"I can see that," Lovino's voice was gentler, and a tear did escape Feliciano's eyes this time. "But you didn't answer my question. Is it only because I look so much like him? "
"Not just that," He croaked, clenching his eyes shut and picturing everything that he had taken for granted before 20 years ago. "The way you talk, the way you smile, your opinions and even your habits, they are all the same."
Lovino was quiet for a moment before letting out a shaky chuckle, the anger that had previously occupied his face had dissipated. "This is just like those cheap movies. Don't tell me we even share a same name." He said the last part in a dry teasing tone, but his tone dropped at the sight of Feliciano's nodding.
"His name was Romano." Feliciano smiled ruefully at Lovino's gaping face. "Yes, you do have a same name."
"What the fucking hell…" Breathing out, Lovino stared at him incredulously, as if hoping that it was some kind of joke. "This is…" He groaned and ran his hand through his hair, seemingly to try to calm himself down. Feliciano didn't say another word, his eyes fixed on his lap. He had expected Lovino to walk out on him, to not continuing their so-called friendship. After all, it was him who had ruined it from the start. He might never really had the wish to befriend Lovino. It was too late for him to realize that he too was a liar.
"You know that your reason to 'befriend' me is entirely selfish, right?" He nodded without lifting his head, knowing and dreading for what might come. "But I'm also an idiot because you've mentioned it in our fucking first meeting and I still hang around with you." He heard a heavy sigh and the creaking of the stool against the floor. The apology was close on the tip of his tongue, but he knew that it wouldn't fix anything. It would only irritate Lovino more and honestly, he couldn't think of any reason why Lovino would want to accept it.
"You know, normally I would be throwing things at you for this, but what the hell… I don't know why I can't really get mad at you for this." He felt Lovino rise from his seat and risked lifting his face. The brunette was scowling at him, but there wasn't quite the fire in his eyes. He just looked sour and a bit angry, no fury, no betrayal. He shook his head and headed to the door, but not before saying, "I need to concentrate for the concert and Marcello's midterms, and God fucking knows that I need to think about this. So don't meet me or text me for this one month." He reached for the handle and added more quietly. "You can do that, right?"
Feliciano nodded wordlessly but he knew that Lovino knew, and maybe it was just his imagination, but Lovino nodded very lightly back before exiting the room.
So very terribly sorry for this terribly late update (I know I said 'terribly' twice). I have no excuse.
A little side note that I did just for fun : the names I used for Lovino's friends were taken from other sources. Alessandro of Alessandro Ricci from Gunslinger Girl. Maria of Maria di Angelo from Percy Jackson series. Giovanni from The Night of the Galactic Railroad. :p
About the song mentioned here, Aria, I'm not sure if Giovanni Allevi composed it or played it. I apologize if I was mistaken. And the song does make me picturing a house on the cliff of a beach, all peaceful and sounds of the waves and potted plants.
I apologize for any mistakes I might have made, for terrible grammar, and also for possible OOC-ness and how emotionally messy this chapter is. Your constructive critics are always welcomed.
Thank you very much for reading, for reviewing, and for bearing with me and this fic. You readers are the one who give this fic the value it has now :')