Chapter 9! Now we're getting to the main part...

It was a quiet day in the office. Lovino stood up from his desk and walked over to the coffee pot on his counter. He poured himself a cup and sipped at it, thinking. Antonio was working at the café today, so he would not be able to visit. Lovino was of course disappointed. However, he was also relieved, as he would be able to postpone the inevitable confession of love. He blushed just thinking about it. Antonio would probably make a big deal out of it and laugh and hug him or something. Stupid Antonio, unconsciously having such an effect on him. But a part of Lovino felt smug. Not everyone had a personal admirer as a beau. In the last few months, he had felt like he was on top of the world; nothing could topple him. Lovino was just about to lift the coffee to his lips when his phone rang. He set the cup down and picked up.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Vargas, Francis Bonnefoy would like to speak to you." Francis? What could he possibly want?

"Put him through." If this is for something stupid, I'm going to blacklist you.

"Hello?" Francis asked tentatively after a while.

"This is Romano speaking."

"Romano. There is… something I need to tell you."

"Yes?" He was concerned at the somber tone that the other man was using.

"I don't exactly know how to say this…" Francis' voice was tinny over the phone.

"Is it bad news?"

"…Yes." Well, how bad could it be?

"Hit me with it." There was a pause on the other side of the line. Finally, the voice spoke again.

"Romano, Antonio is in the hospital right now."

Lovino paced back and forth in the white-tiled hospital hall. His hands were stiffly at his sides, his face a contortion of worry and panic. He suddenly stopped and spun around.

"When did this happen?" Francis, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, replied,

"At about three o'clock. He was in my office discussing something with me when he suddenly wobbled and fainted."

"Holy Mother of Jesus," Lovino swore under his breath, then continued his tireless passage up and down the hallway. Form his sitting position next to Francis, Gilbert said,

"Stop it, you're making me dizzy." His face was just as grave as the rest of the group, possibly even more so. For that reason Lovino complied without a fight. He couldn't take being in this sterile environment, knowing that someone he loved was inside one of the stark white rooms lining the hospital corridors. Frenzied questions ripped through his mind. Was Antonio okay? Why had he just fainted all of a sudden? He didn't have anything dangerous, did he?

"Do you have any idea why he fell over?" Lovino fired at the two situated across from him. They were uncomfortably silent. He tensed up. "Well?"

"Perhaps…" Francis began. Gilbert finished for him.

"You should ask Antonio."

"Why?" Lovino inquired, immediately suspicious.

"It's better if you hear it from him." At that point the door to Antonio's room opened and the doctor stepped out. Gilbert righted himself to speak to him, but Lovino was quicker.

"How is he?" The doctor, a tall, serious man, looked at him gravely.

"As of now, Mr. Carriedo is in semi-stabilized condition. His systems are unpredictable at the moment. I can't ascertain if he will continue to remain in his present state." He eyed the three men. "You can visit him for a short time. But if his condition happens to change, please alert someone." As he walked away, the doctor bowed his head. The three looked at each other.

"Do you want to see him first?" Francis inquired gently.

"You guys go ahead." Lovino needed some time to prepare himself. He watched Francis and Gilbert go in, closing the door behind them. For the next few minutes he tried to calm down. Stop worrying so much. Antonio is probably fine. The doctor's diagnosis didn't sound too bad, did it? When you go in, he'll probably be smiling at you and wave like an idiot. But when Francis and Gilbert came out, he wished that he had had more time to himself. They nodded at him and he slowly entered the room.

Antonio was propped up with some pillows on his bed. He looked up as Lovino entered.

"Lovi!" he said feebly. His complexion was sickly white, his body frail. The green eyes that were usually so filled with life seemed blank. This pathetic figure lying on the bed couldn't be—wasn't—Antonio. Nevertheless, Lovino edged closer to him.

"Antonio?" he asked quietly. "Are you—are you alright?"

"Now that you're here I am." Even his smile seemed weak.

"What happened?"

"I was in the café talking to Francis—"

"I know that." He tried to keep his voice from rising with panic. "Why did you faint?"

"Let's not talk about that—"

"I have to know. Please." Lovino's eyes were filled with pain. He was fighting back the tears in his eyes and the trembling of his lips. Seeing this, Antonio assumed a defeated expression. His gaze darted to and from his companion's.

"Well, don't freak out of anything, but…" He hesitated. His mouth opened and closed, unsure of whether to unleash his next few words or swallow them down. Finally, he grinned weakly. "I have cancer."

Lovino stared at him. The whites of his eyes showed, bringing a look of horror along with them. It seemed impossible. Antonio, his perpetually vivacious Antonio, had cancer…?

"You're kidding, right?"

"… No, I'm not. Don't you believe me?"

"I'm not sure that I want to." Antonio gave him a few seconds to become acquainted with the truth. Eventually, Lovino queried in a wavering voice, "Did you just get it?"

"Actually, I've had it for a while now. It's just that I've been in remission all this time and I had a relapse today for some reason. Isn't that weird?"

"How are you still this optimistic?" Lovino's voice vacillated between disbelief and horror. "How can you still joke around?" Antonio smiled again.

"If I let the negative things affect me, I would never get past living in a shadow. My story doesn't include giving up, at least not yet."

"Your stor—Antonio, this is way beyond your concept of your future. You have cancer, for Christ's sake!" Lovino was going to cry, he was sure of it.

"I've made it this far. Just have faith, okay? I won't ever leave you, not if I can help it." Believing that the course of the cancer was under Antonio's control was much more comforting than considering the other possibilities. Lovino tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He had to be strong, for Antonio's sake.

"Okay. I believe in you." All of the odd occurrences from before added up in his mind. "Is that why Francis and Gilbert are so protective of you and why you ordered tomato juice when we went to the bar?"

"Yeah. Francis and Gil watch out for me, and I gave up alcohol to be on the safe side. I guess it still wasn't enough to prevent the relapse, huh?"

"Don't talk about such things, you idiot." Lovino mustered up a smile. "When you get better we'll figure out what provoked it. I'll provide for you. I'm assuming your financial situation arose from paying for medication, right?"

"How did you know?"

"I guessed." Mainly it was because everything had become painfully clear after he found out about Antonio's predicament. "Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine."

"I'm going to leave, then." He fluffed up the pillows, adjusted the comforter. The other man shifted uneasily.

"Lovi?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you mad that I didn't tell you sooner?" The designer almost choked. Who was he to get angry over something like that? He had his own secrets that he had not revealed yet. Perhaps he would never tell Antonio about his suicide plans.

"No. I could never," he said fervently. Antonio smiled in response. On an impulse, Lovino leaned down and placed a kiss on the other's mouth. They were chapped severely and tasted faintly of bile. Antonio gazed at him.

"Tell Francis and Gil I said bye, okay? And tell them that I'll be okay." Lovino nodded, looked at him one last time, and left. On his way out he relayed the necessary information to the other two, then exited the hospital.

That night he vomited into the toilet bowl of his unforgiving marbled bathroom. In the midst of it all, he recalled the taste of Antonio's lips and realized that he himself had never told him he loved him. Then he retched again.

I know it's kind of depressing... But please tell me what you think.