I really should be studying for my History test... but my brain says write and I must comply. My writing impulses are rather hard to ignore... Without further ado, here is the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the plot.

Warnings: None yet but there will be

Chapter Four

Pensieri Rotto

"There is one pain I often feel, which you will never know. It is caused by the absence of you."

-Unknown

The air of indifference around the house had lessened as the days turned into weeks, probably due to the fact that Lovino and Antonio avoided each other whenever possible, although the other's presence was tolerable. And Lovino still had as many questions now than he ever did before. He had yet to tell the Spaniard that he overheard the conversation between him and Francis. And with Antonio being the person he was now, he wouldn't take too kindly to it.

All well.

Nothing lost, nothing gained.

Speaking of the man, Antonio had been acting a bit unusual (more so than the now typical cold shoulder) for the past few days- especially today. He seemed more determined to evade crossing paths with the Italian and was taking care to make sure he didn't, going so far as to go into another room when Lovino was nearing and exiting when Lovino was no longer there.

Lovino glanced at the calendar.

Hmm…

There was nothing special about the day. It was just an ordinary Monday morning- no special events or anything of the like (at least nothing he could think of right at the drop of a hat).

So why…?

He crawled out of bed, acknowledging the small throbbing in his chest. He rubbed the spot for a few seconds before ignoring it altogether and made his way downstairs to search for Antonio. That man wasn't going to be avoiding him any longer! Not as long as he was alive and had something to do about it!

The Spaniard was sitting at the table finishing what was left of his breakfast when Lovino entered the room in a demanding manner and slammed his hands down on the surface. His curl twitched slightly in annoyance when Antonio didn't respond.

"Yes?" Antonio asked seconds after, still not looking up.

"I'm tired of being in this house all damn day," Lovino replied, his aggravation flourishing.

"What do you want me to do about it?" Antonio asked, withholding that sarcastic tone.

"Look, I could care less if you came with me or not, I'm going," Lovino declared, starting to exit the room.

This earned a sharp look from Antonio. "I don't think so."

"Now he cares," Lovino stopped and turned to face the other man.

I've always cared, Antonio thought but quickly pushed it out of his mind and was now looking at the man full-on from where he was seated. "I can't take the risk of someone seeing you."

"So am I one of your many secrets now? Like how you forgot to mention the fact that I'm dead?" Lovino glowered at the brunette in the room.

Antonio froze, "What did you say?"

"Did I stutter? You heard me! I said that you failed to mention that I'm supposed to be dead!" Lovino shot back, feeling all the anger he'd been keeping bottled up starting to release with each word.

This left Antonio speechless so Lovino continued.

"I overheard that fucking conversation you had with Francis two weeks ago and it answered none of my questions! What the fuck is going on here, Antonio? I'm dead, you're a complete ass, and my brother is missing! I want answers and I want them now!"

"Get dressed," Antonio ordered and suddenly left the table.

"What the-? Hey! Where are you going?" Lovino followed the man.

"You want to go out, right? Well here's your chance," Antonio replied. "Take it or leave it." He then disappeared into his room.

Lovino was waiting for Antonio by the front door, tapping his foot impatiently.

"What the hell are you doing in there?" he called.

Antonio came down the stairs soon after that, carrying something in his hand and shrugging on his coat.

"It's about time," Lovino huffed.

"Here, put this on," Antonio placed a cap on Lovino's head, making sure to tuck the single protruding curl underneath it.

"What? What for?" the Italian questioned but permitted the man to adjust the hat to his satisfaction.

"The others are in town. I can't take the chance of running into them on the streets and discovering you're alive," Antonio took a step away from Lovino to make sure he covered up any noticeable features.

"Why are they here?" Lovino questioned.

"Today is the day you died, "Antonio answered, not allowing his voice to waver.

Ah, that's why.

Lovino thought back to what day it was, "October 26th?"

Antonio merely nodded and opened the front door, letting the cool breeze run its course through the house. He paused for a few moments before looking at the man next to him.

"Stay close. I don't need you getting lost."

"Don't patronize me," Lovino spat.

"I'm looking out for you- there's a difference," Antonio returned and the Italian next to him scoffed.

"Arrogant bastard."

"Yes, we seem to have that in common, don't we?"

"As if! I'm nothing like you!"

"Then you must not know yourself," Antonio said as they began walking along the streets in the town of Cuore, a small settlement in southern Italy that was supposedly the 'heart' of the area and having been named for that.

Though taking in the sights, Lovino kept his head down and refrained from making eye contact with anyone as he let Antonio have the last say. He admitted silently to himself that he didn't want to be caught either. He could only imagine how the others would react if they saw him. The Italian stayed close to Antonio as they continued walking, having the impulse to grab Antonio's free hand but fought against it, being the stubborn creature he was.

He wouldn't agree to this! He couldn't let this situation affect him! He just couldn't!

Lovino glanced out of his periphery, recognizing their location immediately.

His home town… why hadn't he noticed it before?

He never left. Even after I died… he stayed, Lovino thought, becoming lost in own mind and failed to see that Antonio had suddenly stopped thus causing the Italian to bump into him.

"What the-? Why'd you stop?"

"Arthur and Alfred," was the reply.

The Italian looked up quickly, just enough to catch the blonde men walking towards them, and looked down again.

"Oh, Antonio," Arthur spoke with slight surprise. "We weren't expecting to see you until later."

"Needed some fresh air," Antonio replied.

"We might as well join you," Alfred grinned.

"Actually, I was going to visit Lovino. I'd rather go alone if that's all right with you," Antonio attempted to relieve himself of the situation.

"I see. Then who's this?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, nodding towards the man standing a few inches behind Antonio.

Lovino's body went rigid when he heard that Arthur was referring to him but the Italian remained silent nonetheless. He kept his head down, the bill of the cap hiding his face from the English speaking men. His heart thundered in his chest and the pain started again, a little stronger than before. Lovino shuffled closer to Antonio, feeling uncomfortable.

Antonio's mind was fishing for an answer when he spoke, "He's a friend of mine. He just moved here from Venice and I'm showing him around."

"Hello," Arthur greeted with a small smile. "I'm Arthur Kirkland and this is my boyfriend, Alfred Jones."

"'Sup!" Alfred smiled, earning himself a small chastising glance from the Englishman.

"…hi," Lovino replied quietly, still not making eye contact.

"He's a shy one, isn't he?" Alfred looked at Antonio and Arthur jabbed him lightly in the ribcage.

"You're being rude," Arthur scolded.

"Well he is…" Alfred mumbled.

"Alfred, stop it," Arthur continued under his breath and the American became silent. Arthur then looked at Lovino with an apologetic smile, "I apologize. Hopefully you weren't offended by what he said."

"Not at all," Lovino replied in the same hushed tone as before.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name," Arthur pressed, beginning to feel as if he knew this man.

"Livio; my name is Livio Valente," the Italian answered, peeking up at Arthur underneath the hat, meeting the man's emerald eyes for a split second.

Arthur noticed the golden orbs that were the quiet Italian's and his suspicions flourished. His smile fell as he shook hands with Lovino and a single question rose in his mind.

"Have we met?"

"No, I don't believe we have," Lovino replied.

"All right- my mistake. It was nice meeting you, Livio," Arthur sighed slightly.

"Likewise."

"We'll see you later, Antonio," Alfred shifted his gaze at the Spaniard.

Antonio nodded, "See you later." He then grabbed Lovino's hand and pulled themselves away from the duo.

Lovino tried his best to keep up with the Spaniard's long, urgent stride, seeing that the man was obviously flustered from the encounter. Antonio finally stopped in the outskirts of town where the sea of grass met the shore of buildings and small homes. In the distance, a tree stood as lone guardian of the field. From where he stood, Lovino could see that there was something resting beneath the tree but could not quite place it.

Antonio released Lovino's hand, leaving the sting of yearning on the Italian's palm. However, Lovino moved forward, feeling drawn to the giant tree and the object beneath its leafy perches. Antonio fell into step behind Lovino, letting the man have a bit of space. As Lovino stepped into the shade cast off, he froze and his breath hitched in his throat.

A stone sat in the ground, reading words that he did not want to believe. His name was screaming at him from the stone, driving him to his knees in front of it.

"Non può essere vero… it just can't be true," Lovino muttered to himself, realizing that not only was he standing atop his own grave but that he was buried where he and Antonio spent most of their time together; a loving thought but one that left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

The words were mocking despite their sweet intentions. And then the pain slammed into him, this time more severe and as constant pulses, leaving him practically winded. But the Italian fought through it, trying not to show his agitated composure.

"This is where you are and have been for two years," Antonio struggled to rid his voice of emotion, succeeding in this endeavor only subtly.

Lovino ran his fingers over the etched words, "How…?"

Antonio cleared his throat before replying, "Gunshot wound to the chest- it grazed your heart. We tried taking you to the hospital."

"I wouldn't have made it," Lovino sighed.

"That's exactly what you said," Antonio's voice shook a little and Lovino whipped his head around to look at the Spaniard before turning back to the stone and touched it, feeling his heart flutter with each stroke on the cold object.

Another wave of pain was sent throughout his torso like a ripple, slowly losing intensity as it spread.

A gunshot wound to the chest, barely grazing his heart.

Maybe that's why his chest was continuously aching… his heart never healed. And it would only worsen if he remained in this world and lingered on the receiving end of the cold shoulder Antonio was giving him.

"There you have it. That's what happened. Are you satisfied?" the Spaniard stuffed his hands in his pockets, a bit miffed.

Lovino then rose to his feet and faced Antonio with a serious yet solemn expression. The Spaniard raised an eyebrow.

"What is it?"

Lovino's gaze became steely, "If the Lovino that died came back to life, would you treat him the same way you've treated me?"

He left Antonio in the field to allow those words to haunt his former lover's mind. And this time, there was no comforting wind to carry them away.

Arthur still had a perplexed look as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, bidding its farewell with a pleasant sky canvas of magenta, peach, and orange.

"Everything all right?" Alfred wondered, finding his lover's behavior rather peculiar.

Arthur sighed, "I don't know. I could be overthinking this whole thing."

Alfred waited for the Englishman to continue.

"I felt like I know that Livio guy from somewhere. Didn't you?"

"No, not really," Alfred had a thoughtful expression.

"Well, I did. And I don't know if you noticed but his eyes were an unique color- they were gold," Arthur explained, remembering the man's orbs perfectly.

"I don't really understand your point here," Alfred said.

"There are only two people we know who have eyes like that and one of them is…" Arthur trailed off, not wanting to speak of it.

"Artie, there could be dozens of people who have that eye color. Sure, it's not common, but still. It could've been anyone," Alfred reasoned.

"Then how do you explain why I feel like I know him?" Arthur faced the younger man. "He looked just like Lovino- I swear he did. And the spelling of his name is far too similar."

Alfred moved towards Arthur and wrapped his arms around the Englishman's waist in order pull the latter closer. With that, Arthur sighed again.

"I knew I was overthinking this…"

"You're too observant for your own good," Alfred teased.

"And you're not observant enough, you bloody git!" Arthur shot back, causing the American to laugh. "If it was a snake, it would've bit you!"

"Yeah, yeah," Alfred shrugged the comment off in a playful manner while freeing Arthur of his hold.

The Englishman rolled his eyes and returned to his thoughts.

He would definitely be asking Antonio about this later and how convenient it was that they were going to the Spaniard's house in about ten minutes or so.

Lovino hadn't been out of his room since the duo arrived back at Antonio's house, once again falling victim to the uncomfortable silence. The Spaniard ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

He clearly had tons of kissing up to do.

A knock at the door tore Antonio from his thoughts and Francis, who had decided to come an hour before the designated time to meet, answered the door.

"Ah, if it isn't my two great friends, Arthur and Alfred!"

"You know, I was hoping that Antonio would answer the door and you decided to skip out on us this year. This is what I get for wishful thinking," Arthur replied mordantly.

"Some things never change- you still have a temper to compliment your height," Francis scorned.

"Why you-!" Arthur began before Antonio cut him off.

"All right, you two, enough."

"He started it!" Francis and Arthur yelled in unison.

"I ended it!" Antonio snapped.

Lovino sat at the foot of the stairs, away from all the activity and simply listened.

"So, Antonio," Arthur started once everything had simmered down, "where is Livio? Will he be joining us this evening?"

Antonio nearly choked on the water he was drinking, "W-What?"

"I asked if you friend Livio will be joining us," Arthur repeated, taking note of the Spaniard's reaction.

"No, he won't. He decided to stay home for the rest of the day," Antonio shook his head. "He said he was tired- you know, taking a tour around town and all that."

"He's a rather shy fellow, don't you agree?" Arthur inquired.

"No, he was tired, like I said."

"I see. So I suppose he'll be energetic enough to accompany Alfred and I on our last day here. You'll come along, too, of course. No need to make the lad feel uncomfortable with the people he just met only a day prior," Arthur sat at the table and waited.

"Arthur-," Alfred interjected.

"Let him answer," Arthur kept his firm stare on Antonio.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind," Antonio said, defeated.

Arthur smiled knowingly, "I'll be looking forward to it."

Lovino wanted to punch Antonio's lights out. He dug himself into the deepest hole possible and they weren't about to get out of it anytime soon.

Lovino sat on the porch swing, gazing at the stars and silently wishing on one to go home. He felt a little childish, being given that he and his brother did this when they were kids.

Feliciano…

He missed the pasta-loving idiot.

"Here, you'll catch cold," Antonio threw a blanket over the Italian to protect him from the oncoming cold front.

"Since when do you care?" Lovino scoffed but left the blanket alone.

"Since now," Antonio handed the man a mug.

"Thanks…" Lovino accepted it bashfully and studied what was inside.

Hot chocolate with three marshmallows.

Just how he liked it.

Lovino took a small sip and let the mug warm his hands. Then, just like that, the uneasy atmosphere melted away and the two were at last able to enjoy each other's company. But, of course, nothing lasts forever.

"Antonio… if I may ask you one more question," Lovino had a gentle approach, not in the mood to argue.

"Yeah?" Antonio's eyes met the Italian's.

"What happened to my brother?"

Pensieri Rotto- Broken Thoughts

Non può essere vero…- It can't be true...

Okay, here are a few explanations. First of all, I'm sorry if I butchered the Italian. I am not using Google Translate though so that's a plus, right? X'D Anyway, the town Cuore is a fictional town that I have created for the story. I couldn't seem to find a town in Italy that fit the description of the place in my head so I just made one up off the top of my head. I like to improvise.

I hope you enjoyed!

This is Crimson signing off!

Hasta la Pasta!