Antonio didn't know what he was doing, all he knew was that he needed to get away, the Spaniard's great wings beat almost franticly as he flew as fast as he could and he let his tears stream down his face. Antonio had never felt so hurt by one simple action but watching Lovino kiss that girl on the cheek had caused Jealousy to raise its ugly head. His chest felt tight, his lungs burned and couldn't seem to expand enough, his eyes felt huffy and sore from crying and his back was starting to cramp up from the sudden and unrelenting up and down motion of his wings.
Why did it hurt so badly? Antonio hated her, he didn't even know her and he hated her. How could he not, when she stole Lovino from him? Hadn't he shown Lovino how much he cared for him already? They had known each other for a little over a year. That wasn't a lot of time, granted, but it was enough for Antonio to feel something for the Italian.
But his feelings didn't matter, did they?
The thought alone caused Antonio to miss a beat, he instantly fell several feet, the sudden drop shouldn't have surprised him but it did. He back peddled on instinct, which was a horrible idea, the force of trying to stop on a dime caused him to catch the wind the wrong way and flipped him over on to his back. Antonio only had time to flip onto his side, almost to his stomach, before he met the ground. His head bounced off the ground and he heard more than felt something snap.
Pain shot up and down his entire body and his vision swam, he felt light headed and had a tingling sensation in the back of his skull. Antonio groaned and tried to sit up but the pain was too much and he flopped to the ground again. A painful grinding sensation was his reward for obeying his body's demands for rest, he hissed from the pain and grit his teeth to keep from screaming, his eyes tightly shut.
Ignoring the pain as best as he could Antonio tucked his wings in and rolled over onto his back, he reached up and gently felt along his collarbone. Something wet, hot and sticky met his fingers along with something hard, he tensed. His collarbone had snapped and broke through the skin. Well that was lovely wasn't it? Antonio opened his eyes, took a deep breath and roughly reset the bone with a loud scream and breathless gasp as it snapped back into place. Panting, he let his arm flop back to his side as he waited for the wound to heal, not bothering to wipe the blood off his hand.
He lay there gazing up at the sky, watching the clouds slowly float away, pushed along by the breeze. The healing process was fast, so fast that Antonio could feel the cells regenerate and stitch him back together; bone, tendon, muscle and skin. It was a sickening thing to endure and it caused him to shutter.
Antonio wanted to lay there and sulk but he knew that would be pointless so instead he tried to imagine what it would be like having another human around the house, how would that go? He didn't like the idea but if things continued down the road they were going down, it seemed like a very real possibility. That would be fun, wouldn't it? Trying to explain that there was an angel in the house simply because he didn't want to leave and then having to come to terms with it and, let's not forget, getting used to each other.
Yes, terribly fun.
Then what would Antonio do when they had se-ahh! Antonio buried his face in his hands and rolled around in an attempt to get the idea out of his head. God, why had he even thought about that!? Maybe it was time to leave after all. Better to be focusing on flying then…well…that!
Antonio jumped up and took a running start, unfurling his wings and flapping them up and down in a gentle rhythm, slowly taking to the air. He arched his back and beat his wings harder, quickly gaining altitude. The wind ruffled his hair and filled his wings. Antonio took a deep breath of the cold air to help clear his mind. The flight back to Lovino's house was uneventful but extremely calming; it almost had a meditative feel to it.
It was nice but all things must come to an end and this was no exception. Antonio tucked his wings in and dove. Several feet from the ground, he unfurled them again and lightly landed on his feet with a bounce. He folded his wings against his back and made his way up Lovino's driveway, to the front door, through it; being an invisible angel had its perks, like not needing permission to enter someone's home like a demon did, and made his way into the living room. Dropping the invisibility as he went, there was no use in scaring Lovino.
The Italian was sitting on the couch, tapping his fingers against the arm rest impatiently. His face set in a scowl and his full lips pouting. Antonio almost squealed at how cute he looked but instead he settled for…
"Lovi, you look so cute!" Antonio shouted and launched himself at him. Successfully glomping Lovino so hard they tumbled over the arm rest and crashed to the floor in a heap.
"What the hell is wrong with you, get off?!" Lovino yelled shoving the angel away. Antonio stood and helped Lovino to his feet, who was doing a fair bit of blushing that, luckily, went unnoticed by the Spaniard. Lovino yanked his hand away like he had been burnt then ran his hand through his hair.
"Bastard, I have a date with a cute girl later, don't mess with me!" Lovino exclaimed as he straightened his clothes. The words cut through Antonio but he didn't show it, how could he when Lovino had looked so happy with her? The Spaniard took a step back and examined him.
Lovino was wearing a white button-up shirt with a dark green tie, dress pants and the vest of a suit. He looked good, great, actually. Not that he didn't look good all the time, with his fashion sense but it looked like he vaguely made an effort with his current outfit.
"Is that right? Well, be careful," Antonio said with a smile and made his way to the guest room that Lovino was letting him use. He gently closed the door behind him, when he heard it 'click' the smile fell from his face and turned into a scowl. The Spaniard looked around the room in search of something to occupy himself with or, at the very least, drown out his sorrows with.
His guitar was resting against the wall with a sparkling gold feather tied to the neck of it; the feather was one of Francis'. Antonio snatched it up, sat down with his back pressed against the wall, and started to play. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Lovino cared enough to even notice the blood on his shirt.