Hey there! Sorry that this is not very long but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. It was necessary for the rest of the story. Thanks for the reviews/favorites/alerts! I truly appreciate them! It made me elated to know that this story is off to some kind of start! Each chapter will have an Italian title and I will have a translation at the bottom. Hopefully I didn't botch it up too bad :D Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way, shape, or form. Okay? Okay.
Warnings: Death, angst, Spamano (in future chapters)
Chapter One
Dalle Ceneri
"With my ninth mind I resurrect my first and dance slow to the music of my soul made new." ― Aberjhani
The leaves danced on their branches, whispering his name while the gentle breeze played with his hair. He stirred lightly in the grass as clouds rolled across the sky, concealing the sun. A small rumble of thunder in the distance caught his attention but only to lose it again. He began to settle, finding his mind too hazy to move or to even think. His blurry vision stared on into the waves of swaying grass, mesmerizing him.
Hearing the soft padding of footsteps in sync with the crunching of grass, he struggled to look up with all that was left of his deprived strength. Brunette hair and emerald eyes were the only features he caught before falling into the familiar abyss of darkness once more.
Curious of whom this man that was lying in the middle of the field was, Antonio kneeled as the first roar of thunder echoed across the area. Dark strands of hair acted as a veil and shrouded the man's face which in turn heightened Antonio's already overwhelming sense of wonder.
But just as he was about to brush back the locks of hair, the Spaniard stopped. Something was making him stop, like a hand that had firmly grabbed his arm. A feeling in the pit of his gut screamed at him not to do this- that it would only cause further trouble in the future. Antonio cast off those feelings. He had to do this. This man could be injured for all he knew and he would feel terrible if he just left him out here to die in the rain.
Curiosity killed the cat, he thought.
With a trembling but gentle hand, he gently swept the hair away and suddenly stumbled backwards, losing his footing and landing amongst the sea of grass. For the longest time, the only sounds were the rustling of the field and the whispers of the trees. Antonio visibly shook and his emerald eyes were wide with incredulity.
A single drop of rain fell on Lovino's face.
Antonio carried Lovino inside his home, both damp from the sprinkling rain that left wet kisses on their faces. The Spaniard placed Lovino on the couch and stared at him for what seemed like an eternity before grabbing a towel and began drying Lovino's hair with a blank expression.
It just wasn't possible.
There was no way that this could be the Italian he fell in love with!
Lovino was…
"Antonio, I-," Francis entered the room, once hearing his friend come inside the house, and immediately froze when he caught sight of the Italian lying on the couch. "A-Antonio, is that…?"
The Spaniard only nodded, expecting this reaction from anyone who would see the man again after so long. Antonio gazed at Lovino with a bleak expression and ceased rubbing Lovino's head with the towel for the longest time and just stared. He was having a hard time grasping the fact that Lovino was here, too.
Images of that day flashed through his mind, growing more gruesome with each dreadful scene. Antonio became lost in his thoughts and resumed drying Lovino's hair with almost mechanical movements.
"Antonio, what did you do?" Francis nearly demanded harshly, earning a glare from the brunette on the couch.
"I did nothing! What makes you think I had something to do with this?" Antonio spat, his confusion feeding to his flaring temper.
"We all know the lengths you would go to get Lovino back," Francis answered and the truth of those words was like an anesthetic to the Spaniard, leaving him numb.
The Frenchman was right. Antonio would do anything to get his precious Italian back. There was no denying that fact; yet, here he was, in the flesh. Antonio touched the sleeping man's cheek and felt the tingle of satisfaction and longing shoot through his entire body.
He was so warm… just like he remembered the Italian. Despite the cold and harsh demeanor Lovino always had, the Italian was just as warm and caring, only showing some of that side to a selected few.
Antonio drew his hand back abruptly, though, realizing what he had done. This wasn't his Lovino. It couldn't be. The one he loved… was dead. There was a cold stone with the Italian's name etched on it to prove it. What more could be done to a heart that was never truly whole? How much pain could one really endure?
Lovino made it whole, Antonio thought with remorse. He made me whole.
"Whatever happened, you need to get it fixed as soon as possible. Who knows what could happen if he remains here," Francis stated shortly.
"I'm aware of that," Antonio answered dryly.
"This is so unlike you," Francis said, changing the subject. "I honestly thought you would be excited to see him again or at least show a bit of emotion." Francis's eyes fixated on the Spaniard's impassive expression as if the man was suppressing what he was truly feeling.
"I'm not the same man I once was," Antonio's voice had a dark ulterior tone to it when the brunette made eye contact with the Frenchman. "Tell no one he's here. Not a single, solitary soul. I don't need any more trouble than I already have to deal with. I'll tell if I think it's necessary."
Francis raised an eyebrow, "You think he's just going to sit here obediently when he comes to? You must not know him as well as you say you do, mon ami. This is Lovino Vargas we are speaking of. He's as stubborn as they come."
"No," Antonio spoke tenaciously and with clenched fists, "that's not Lovino. He's dead. I've come to accept that. The last thing I need is old memories and feelings to be brought back. Don't make things worse than they already are."
"It wasn't my intention; however, he is here. If you deny this, it will make this worse for you- for both of you. And you need to do something about this. I am here if you need help with anything."
Antonio nodded, "Thanks."
Soon, Francis left the room and then the house entirely.
Antonio let the Italian sleep and let him dream his pleasant dreams, no longer dwelling on the situation and continued his daily tasks around the house. Lovino would wake up when he did; the Spaniard felt that if he was to become too attached to this Lovino, he would be betraying the one fell in love with.
Yes… this was the best course of action to take.
No bonds…
No heartbreak.
He wouldn't be able to handle it a second time. He would rather die.
With eyes like ice and a bland countenance, he caught the slight movement of the Italian beginning to wake up and moved towards his lover.
His dead lover, who had risen out of the ashes, was born into a life without his existence.
Dalle Ceneri- Out of the Ashes
First chapter is complete! I hope you enjoyed!
Please be kind and review! :D They make me very happy and inspire me! I love reading them!
Arigatou~
Hasta la Pasta!