A/N: Conquistador!Spain finally makes an appearance! Oh, and we all know who's Ludwig's master, right? That wasn't really supposed to be a mystery, so I'm not surprised. So, for those who of you who would like an actual puzzle to stimulate your minds, I have come up with this little challenge: can you guess why the towns in this story have those names? There is a meaning behind them. It's not important to the plot; it was just a bit of fun I had.
Anyway, thank you very much for the reviews! They are greatly appreciated!
– CHAPTER 6 –
Recollections and Confessions
"How's this, Grandpa?"
"Very good, Feliciano! I can already tell you're going to be a brilliant artist when you grow up. No, sooner than that! You'll be a brilliant artist by the age of ten! Just like your old grandpa! I'm blessed to have such a talented heir."
A giggle. "Thanks, Grandpa! I love you!"
"Oh, dear boy! Grandpa loves you, too!"
Lovino turned to watch his twin and his grandfather hug each other. It was almost disgusting, the way Feliciano acted like a perfect little angel and Grandpa fawned over him. They were always together, those two. Always sitting side by side – when Feliciano wasn't sitting on Grandpa's lap – laughing together, praising each other's artistic skills, holding each other... and completely forgetting about Lovino's existence. As if Lovino didn't matter at all just because he wasn't as good at painting as his twin.
Or as cute. Grandpa was always cooing at Feliciano, "You're so cute! So very cute!" just like everyone who set eyes on Feliciano. But no one ever said the same about Lovino, which didn't make a lot of sense. They were twins; they looked almost identical! What was so special about Feliciano, appearance-wise? Not that Lovino wanted to be doted on like his brother, but he deserved some recognition, too! Fine, so he wasn't good at painting. Whatever. He had other strong points. He was pretty good at... well... umm...
Oh, to heck with it! He would just have to try harder at painting.
Wiping at his eye, he turned back to the canvas in front of him and painstakingly finished what he considered his masterpiece so far. He had spent days working on this one, put his best efforts into it. Now it was finally done and he pulled away a little to gaze at the result of all his dedication. It didn't look as amazing as Feliciano's works, but it was a huge improvement from Lovino's previous works and he was very proud of it. Even Grandpa would have to see how good it was and offer some sincere praise for once.
He leapt off his stool and dragged the small canvas over to his grandfather, who didn't notice his presence at first. Lovino stood there for a minute, waiting to be noticed. When it didn't happen soon enough, because Grandpa was too busy giving Feliciano some feedback on his latest work, Lovino grabbed a fistful of his grandfather's trousers and tugged insistently.
"Grandpa! Grandpa, look! I made another painting!" he said, and even then it took him another minute to catch Grandpa's attention.
"What? What? Oh, yes, yes, let me see!" With a small smile, Grandpa took Lovino's painting in his wrinkled hands and considered it for a moment with an unreadable expression. Lovino fidgeted a little. Grandpa hummed as if impressed and smiled down at his grandson. "Very good, Lovino! Keep practising," he said, patting Lovino's head, and handed the canvas back to him before returning his full attention to Feliciano's painting.
"That's it?!" Lovino shouted in disbelief. "'Keep practising!' Is that all you have to say?"
His words fell on deaf ears. Both Grandpa and Feliciano just continued talking excitedly about that accursed painting. Lovino stood on the tips of his toes and managed to take a look at what Feliciano had drawn. Even though it had been a brief peek, he could see it was absolutely stunning.
"Damn it! I hate you!" he burst out and ran off with his canvas, warm tears streaming down his reddened cheeks.
He only came to a halt outside the house, in the garden. He held the canvas before him and cringed at the picture that had made him so proud only two minutes ago. Now he could barely look at it without feeling shame. It just stared back at him, mocking him. He threw it at the ground and stomped on it, set on destroying what he had worked so hard to make. Seeing the ruined image of his failure gave him both a sick, vindictive satisfaction and remorse.
xxx
"An orphanage? You're just going to leave me here?!" Lovino took a few ragged breaths. "What about Feliciano? You're not going to bring him here, are you? You just want to get rid of me! You've always wanted to do this! You want to keep Feliciano and get rid of me! You're finally admitting you love him more! Y-you—you don't love me at all, really!" he sobbed.
"Now, Lovino, you know that is not true," said Grandpa. That had always been his response to these accusations in the past, always delivered in a calm yet chiding tone of voice. This time, however, the old man just sounded terribly tired and maybe even sorrowful. Lovino saw this, and it gave him hope that, this time, his grandfather was actually being sincere.
"Then why?" he asked. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"Lovino, I'm too old and feeble. I can't take care of you the way you need any more. You have to admit you're quite a handful," he said the last part with a frail smile, as if trying to lighten up the mood with a joke. It had the opposite effect, though, for Lovino did not appreciate jokes at his expense. Hearing about how old and sick his grandfather felt didn't help Lovino feel any better, either. With a sigh, Grandpa added, in a more serious tone, "Really, Lovino, Grandpa can barely take care of himself, let alone a child. These people will give you proper care."
"Can barely take of yourself, you say? And yet you're keeping Feliciano! He's a handful, too, don't even try to deny it! He can't do a single thing on his own!"
"Indeed, it will be very hard for the both of us, but we'll look after each other. Feliciano is different. There are still things I need to teach him. You, on the other hand... There is nothing else I can do for you. I would only give you grief."
"I-I could help take care of you! I'm not totally useless!"
"No, Lovino. You're staying here."
"Why?! I can help you!" Met with silence and that unreadable gaze again, Lovino struggled to understand and could only come up with one explanation. "Y-you think I'm nothing but a burden, is that it? I knew it all along! And you can't even say it to my face! You're trying to make it look like you're doing this for my sake, but it's really because you can't even admit that you wish I hadn't been born in the first place! I bet you hate looking at me, right? I must look like a mockery imitation of Feliciano to you! Isn't that right?"
Each word was like a stab at his own heart, and he wanted to stop them – he didn't even know why he was saying them, having always kept them buried safely away in his mind – but he just couldn't stop and it hurt. He looked at his grandfather, expecting – begging – him to say it was not true, because at this point even a lie would be better than a raw, ugly truth. However, all his grandfather did was look at him with a deep sadness that Lovino had never seen in those eyes. His grandfather looked like he had just got a hundred years older and the weight of the whole world had fallen on his shoulders.
"You're not even trying to deny it!" he wailed. He shouldn't have felt so disappointed, shouldn't have hoped things would be different this time. He had always got disappointed in his grandfather, just like Lovino had always disappointed him in turn. But it hurt, hurt so much that he tried to alleviate it the only way he knew how, by turning his disappointment into anger. "I hate you! I hate you more than anything in the world! Just go back to your precious Feliciano, see if I care! I don't need you! I don't want to see you ever again! You can go to hell for all I care, you old bastard!"
Even after he turned away from his grandfather and ran off, wanting to get as far away as possible from the man who was abandoning him, the image of his grandfather's heartbroken face remained imprinted on his mind and continued to haunt him for years to come.
xxx
"Lovino!" came the overjoyed squeal, and before Lovino could register whose voice it was, he was caught in a suffocating embrace. "I'm so happy to see you! I missed you so, so, so much!"
"Feliciano?!" Lovino choked and struggled out of his twin's hold. "What the hell are you doing here? I haven't seen you in... ages! Where's Grandpa?"
Feliciano's bright, angelic face fell. "H-he... he's gone to heaven."
"What?! You mean he's dead?!"
A sad nod from Feliciano, and then his joyful smile was back and Lovino found himself once again surrounded by his brother's chubby arms. "That means we're going to live together again, Lovino! We'll see each other every day, just like the old times! Ahh, I missed you so much!"
"B-but—but—Grandpa can't be dead!" stammered Lovino, still in a state of shock. How could Feliciano recover from that kind of thing so quickly?
Feliciano was quiet for a moment, appropriately subdued. "I'm kind of glad he's gone."
Lovino was scandalized. "How can you say that?! He's Grandpa! He loved you, and you loved him! You were always together!"
"Ah, Lovino... You should have seen him in his last days. He was really sick and in a lot of pain. He rarely smiled any more. At least now he can rest in peace."
Lovino felt tears prickle at his eyes. So, Grandpa, the old man who had raised him, was gone for good. Lovino hadn't even got the opportunity to say goodbye or apologise for his hateful words from the last time they had met. Because they weren't true, as much as he wanted them to be true. Even though he deeply resented his grandfather for favouring Feliciano, he had still loved his grandfather, his only father figure.
"In his deathbed, he said he was sorry he failed you," said Feliciano, still in a subdued tone to match the gloomy mood Lovino found himself in.
Lovino didn't know how to feel about those last words. He was sorry? How did that make anything better? What was that even supposed to mean, anyway? Was he sorry that he hadn't given Lovino as much love and attention as he had given Feliciano, or was he sorry that he had failed to make Lovino as good as Feliciano? How typically vague and ambiguous of that slippery old man...
"It's not as bad as it sounds," said Feliciano, cheering up a little again. "Grandpa told me about what a wonderful place heaven is! And he said that someday we'll see each other there! Wouldn't that be great?"
"Shut up!" Lovino snapped. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! You're as big a liar as he was! The both of you, you just keep saying things you don't mean to make me feel better, just so you can feel good about yourselves!"
"What? What are you saying? I just—"
"And it's not fair that you got the chance to be with Grandpa till the end and say goodbye to him! What's so special about you, anyway? You're an idiot! Yeah, maybe you're good artist, but you're no good at anything else! You're an annoying crybaby! And you're so naïve it hurts! Stupid!" Lovino had long stopped thinking about what he was saying; he just felt angry, so irrationally angry, and he needed to take it out on someone, make them suffer as much him. He shoved Feliciano away from him. "Get away from me! I don't want to have anything to do with you!"
"But... Lovino..." Feliciano whimpered, but respected his brother's wishes and didn't follow him when Lovino walked away.
It was much later that he realised why he had felt so angry and lost at that time. It was because, deep down, the thought that his last words to his dying grandfather had been so full of hate and so false, and that his words had probably only added to his grandfather's pain, was too unbearable for him.
xxx
Everyone loved Feliciano. The nuns at the orphanage just couldn't help but dote on him just like Grandpa had done. Again, Lovino wasn't as popular as Feliciano. However, he found it was a lot easier to be nice to the nuns than to his grandfather, and they loved him as well. They thought he was cute, even when he was being difficult. They still said things like, "Why can't you be more like your brother?" but they went easier on him than on the other children. One could even say they spoiled him. When he did something wrong, they either gave him a light scolding or just sighed and ignored it.
So, life in the orphanage hadn't been so bad. At least... until Sister Benedetta came to work at the orphanage. It was beyond Lovino how such a wicked woman had ever got to be a nun. She was one of those extremely strict people who admitted no transgressions and had very unpleasant methods to instil discipline. If she had been born a man, she – or rather, he – would probably have been a military officer, or a prison guard, or a torturer, or something along those lines.
The worst part was, she had a special dislike for Lovino, not only because he was, admittedly, an unruly child who refused to respect her and got away lightly when he did something wrong, but also because of his weakness. By this point, the falling sickness had already become a fact of life for him, and Sister Benedetta scorned it openly. Lovino didn't think that was very righteous of her, but then again, his opinion never mattered to her. The other nuns always tried to make her lighten up and be more lenient, to which she had grudgingly acquiesced. During the first years, her punishments had been relatively light, though Lovino didn't realise this until much later. One of her favourite punishments was forcing him kneel on maize in a corner.
However, one day, she caught him pickpocketing some oblivious sod on the street and dragged him back to the orphanage, skilfully avoiding attracting the attention of the other nuns. She locked herself up in a room with Lovino and came up to him holding a rattan cane.
"Hold out your hands, palms up," she ordered sharply. Lovino stood there, staring at the cane in trepidation. "Look at me!" she snapped, and he jerked up his head to obey her. "Do not try my patience, or you will only make things much worse for yourself. Now, hold – out – your – hands!"
"What—what are you going to do to me?" he asked, hating the way his voice trembled.
"Don't talk back to me, and don't make me repeat myself," she whispered, and her dark eyes promised that this would be a lot more painful and humiliating if he didn't obey. Swallowing, Lovino hesitantly held out his hands, even as he glared at her with defiance in his eyes.
Whack!
Lovino gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. That had hurt a lot more than he had been expecting, and Benedetta hadn't even needed to put any strength into it. His hands twitched, but he didn't draw back, and once the initial wave of pain diminished, he glared at her again, more viciously this time. If she expected him to scream or burst into tears and apologies, she was going to be sorely disappointed.
Whack!
A little more forceful this time. His hands twitched and began to withdraw a little on their own, but he forced them to stay there. He wouldn't let this witch break him with just a few cane strikes. He wouldn't let her terrorize him.
Whack!
Lovino hissed a curse, earning yet another, very forceful hit. He barely felt that last one, his hands still numb from the previous beating.
He wasn't sure how long this went on, but in the end, his hands were shaking uncontrollably and covered in bruises, and a few tears had escaped his eyes and left thin trails on his cheeks. He hated himself for it. He had been mostly silent all this time, save for a few hissed curses and gasps, but now his breathing was ragged and he was choking down whimpers. His resolve was almost breaking.
Whack! Whack! Whack!
A sob finally tore from his throat. He couldn't stand it any more. He felt sick and sore and he just wanted it to be over. "Oh, God, just make it stop!" he whispered, no longer caring how pathetic he looked.
"You know you deserve this."
He opened his eyes, but Sister Benedetta was no longer there. In her place was a young lady with silvery hair and a face like a doll's, a gun in her hand pointed directly at him. Lovino had a feeling of déjà vu. He knew this woman.
Remembrance suddenly hit him, along with the realisation that he was no longer a child; he was an adult, and he was married to this woman, this mentally disturbed, miserable woman whom he had betrayed and who now wanted him dead by torture.
"Na—Natalia..." he whispered, wondering if apologising would make any difference.
"You deserve this," she repeated, her voice oddly distorted, diabolical. "You deserve to burn in Hell for all your sins!"
Indeed, he was burning. There was fire everywhere, surrounding him in suffocating heat and pain. He felt his body shrivel as the flames lashed mercilessly at him, but he still didn't even lose consciousness. He didn't even have the energy to scream; he just moaned in agony, his head thrashing back and forth on the ground – when had he fallen over? – trying to summon words of prayer to his lips, but they escaped him like water running through his fingers.
Please, God! Please just make this stop! he mentally begged over and over, even though he knew, deep down, that no mercy was forthcoming, nor did he deserve any. When he managed to crack his eyes open again, neither Natalia not Sister Benedetta where anywhere to be seen. He was completely and utterly alone in his torment. Although the pain did not diminish at all, he slowly stopped moving and just let the flames continue to engulf him. In the far distance, well above him, he thought he could see his grandfather's face, no longer tired but still sorrowful, those infinitely sad eyes quietly gazing at him with a mixture of pity and regret.
"G-Grandpa... Grandpa, help me... please," he begged him, not even sure if the words were coming out of his mouth or if they were only formed in his mind. He tried to reach up with his hand. "Grandpa... I'm so... so sorry... I'm—" his breath hitched. "I don't hate you! P-please... forgive me..."
His grandfather frowned and shook his head.
"You deserve this," he seemed to say. He then turned away and slowly vanished.
"No! No, no, please... Grandpa... don't leave me! Don't leave me!"
"Lovino..."
"Don't leave all alone again..." he sobbed.
"Lovino, open your eyes."
He did so, suddenly aware of a new voice. It was a female voice, but it wasn't anything like Natalia's or Sister Benedetta's. This one was deep, warm, affectionate. For a long while, all he could see was a bright light, but the longer he stared at it, the more it seemed to take shape. A young woman made of white light descended from where his grandfather's form had disappeared, smiling down at him. As she approached and held him in her ethereal arms, the flames around him died down, the coolness emanating from her soothing his burnt body.
God, she was absolutely beautiful! Not attractive like the girls he had flirted with, for she didn't even have a body or defined features in the first place. She was divinely beautiful, like the angels in his brother's and his grandfather's paintings. An angel. A true angel.
"Shh... It'll be all right," she told him, her cool hand brushing against his forehead like a feather. He watched her, entranced and basking in the peace she offered him. He felt as though he knew her, since a long, long time ago...
"Mother?" he whispered, or at least tried to. She rested a slender finger on his lips, gently shushing him again.
"Just rest, my dear," she told him. Just as he had been swallowed by hot flames a moment ago, he now found himself enveloped by her divine light, which numbed his pain and allowed him to sink into bliss. Never in his life had he felt so safe and loved.
Her hands ghosted over to his face, cradling his jaw. He opened his eyes just a little, idly noting how she seemed to become more and more solid the longer she stayed there. Her face drew closer, her eyes sliding shut, and her thin lips touched his. The motherly angel was kissing him! His eyes opened wide in shock...
... and he found himself lying on a lumpy mattress in a candle-lit room, his face a few inches away from a slightly guilty-looking Isabella.
xxx
Bella hurriedly pulled away from Lovino, her blush evident even in the ill-lit room. Alarmed and confused, Lovino wanted to sit up so he could take in his surroundings, but he couldn't summon the energy to do so. He felt sore all over, as if he had just been trampled by a whole horse-riding battalion, but his head hurt most of all. He had no idea where he was and no recollection of what had happened to him. Only what he now realised had been a dream was still vivid in his mind, but he tried to push it aside and focus on the real world.
"Where am I?" he asked after a few failed attempts to articulate coherent words and then sentences. "What happened? What were you doing? What time is it?"
"Y-you're in a small church in the village of Pontebianco," she said. "Ludwig brought us here after you passed out."
"Who is Ludwig? Why would anyone bring us to this place?" he asked, still feeling very lost. "And why did I pass out? What happened?"
"Y-you don't... you don't remember?" asked Bella, now giving him a rather worried look.
"If I remembered, I wouldn't be asking you, now would I?" he snapped, and regretted it immediately when Bella blushed and lowered her head in shame.
"You had an attack of the falling sickness," she whispered, subdued. "That's what Antonio told me."
Lovino's heart clenched and pumped ice-cold blood into his veins. He had had an attack? In front of her? But—he had been cured of it! The shock seemed to kick his memory into working again and recollections from before he had passed out came back to him in a rush. He remembered now, he was being chased by his bloodthirsty ex-wife for cheating on her, and then he, Antonio, and Bella had got lost in the woods after an assault, and then that suspicious bastard – Ludwig, was it? – had showed up and tried to take him to his master...
"And then we brought you here to recover," continued Bella. "You slept for days with a high fever... and you got delirious... you kept crying in your sleep... you talked a lot about your Grandpa."
He groaned and rolled over, half-covering his face, so that Bella couldn't look at him. He just kept jumping from one nightmare to another! On top of all that, he now felt overcome with shame and self-loathing. He would never live down this humiliation. There was no doubt in his mind that God was punishing him. That had to be it.
"Lovino, what's wrong?" he heard Bella's worried voice again. "Are you feeling unwell again?"
"Why do you even care?" he asked bitterly. Again, he regretted his words the moment they were out of his mouth, because he didn't even have to look at Bella to know he had hurt her. He sighed. She didn't deserve to be the outlet for his anger. "You've seen the darker side of me. How spiteful, rude, selfish, and unfaithful I really am. I've even taken my anger out on you, when you did nothing but treat me with kindness. And now you've seen how weak and pathetic I am. I'm worthless and disgusting. So why should you care about me? Why do you even bother?"
"Don't say that," she said, her trembling finger caressing his cheek and gently coaxing him to meet her gaze. "No one is perfect! We all have our flaws and weaknesses. We all make mistakes and have bad days. I won't think any less of you for it! Even the falling sickness—"
He flinched and jerked away from her touch.
"I don't need your pity!" he barked. Bella withdrew her hand as if it had got burnt. By now, Lovino finally managed to sit up. "Just go away! Leave me alone, damn it!"
"But I love you," she whispered, her words barely audible.
Lovino froze. Once again, that declaration left him without reaction, which Bella took as an opportunity to close the gap between them and lock their lips in a chaste, sweet kiss that lasted for about three seconds. As if that gesture and the closeness to such a pretty face provoked an instinctive reaction on him, he leant forward for another, deeper kiss, until reason came back to him and made him hesitate. This was wrong! He didn't feel aroused or passionate at all about this kiss. It was like kissing his mother, or his sister. For God's sake, she was five years older than him! Not to mention it also felt as though he were betraying Antonio. What would Antonio think if he barged in right this moment and caught his best friend and the object of his affection kissing each other like this?
He held her by the shoulders and pulled away, gently but firmly.
"I'm sorry, but I don't feel that way about you," he said. Not that she felt that way about him, either. She was just a deluded girl with a silly crush. Someday, she would open her eyes and see how ridiculous this whole thing was. She was a good girl deep down and deserved someone much better, someone strong, brave and genuinely kind. Someone like Antonio.
Of course, he voiced none of those thoughts to her. It wasn't the right time for them.
"B-but—"
"Please, just leave me alone," he went on, with a quiet tone of finality. "I need to be alone for a while."
For one horrifying moment, he thought she was going to burst into tears and thus break his resolve. That would have been catastrophic, because not only would he feel even worse for hurting her feelings, he might also end up taking all his words back out of pity. Fortunately for him, Bella did not cry. She just stared at him for a minute, then said:
"All right. If that is what you want. Please excuse me." Her tone wasn't cold, but it certainly lacked its usual warmth. She stiffly stood up and left the room, her head down.
Lovino tried not to dwell on what had just transpired. He felt bad for her, honestly. He did like fooling around with pretty girls, but that did not mean he enjoyed breaking their hearts when they wanted to take their relationship to the next level, so to speak. He was confident that she would eventually get over it, though, so there was simply no point in worrying about it now. He had more important things on his mind.
With quite some difficulty, he managed to get up and remain standing, although he staggered a little at first due to a slight bout of dizziness. Once he felt steady enough to walk, he slowly, tentatively, left the room, keeping a wary eye open on his surroundings to make sure no one else was around. Bella had said this was a church, right? Just what he needed right now.
He soon found the altar of the church. The place was deserted, which was just as well. Facing the altar, he crossed himself and knelt down at one of the front benches to pray. It didn't help much, though. If anything, it only made him feel more wretched and worthless. The nightmare that he had had in his fevered sleep still haunted him. He suddenly wished Father Vinicius was here. The old man might have seemed a little stern and intimidating sometimes, but he had always listened when Lovino felt lost and needed to talk about serious issues. Always listened, unlike his Grandpa.
Oh... Thinking about his grandfather definitely didn't help.
He lifted his head, suddenly aware that he was no longer alone. A priest, old and serious like Father Vinicius, though certainly smaller and not as imposing, was at a respectable distance, watching him with a knowing look. They stared at each other for a long moment, and then, with a last pointed look at Lovino, the priest averted his gaze and slowly, almost casually – because the motion was really anything but casual – he headed to the confessional. After a second of hesitation, Lovino followed suit.
He knelt down again inside the confessional, glad for the screen that separated him from the priest. This was going to be hard enough without having to face him. Several minutes ticked by in complete silence as he gathered his thoughts and the courage to speak. Finally, he took a deep breath.
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."
xxx
Antonio was heading to the room where he had left Bella and Lovino. Lately, Bella had been pushing herself out of worry for Lovino; she was likely to be exhausted. It was about time for them to switch turns so that the girl could get some rest.
He was shocked, then, to find her sitting curled up on the floor, her back to the wall and face hidden in her crossed arms over her knees. Her shoulders shook and he was sure he could hear very faint sounds of muffled sobs.
"Bella! What happened? What are you doing here?"
She raised her head, revealing a reddened, tear-stained face that was like a punch to Antonio's stomach.
"Oh... Antonio..." she said between sobs and sniffles, taking a handkerchief to wipe her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you would come back this soon. I didn't mean for you to see me like this."
"Please, get off the floor!" he said, holding out a hand to help the distraught girl to her feet. "What on Earth is going on? Weren't you supposed to be watching Lovino? D-did something happen to—" His question, which had already been full of dread, trailed off when the mention of Lovino only caused a fresh torrent of tears to be shed.
"Oh, don't worry about Lovino. He's a little better now." She sniffled. "He even woke up."
"He's awake? But... that's good news, right?" Antonio's worry didn't diminish at all, however, because if Bella had been reduced to such a miserable state, something had to be horribly wrong. "What happened, then?" he prodded.
"Well... we talked. He couldn't remember anything at first and seemed pretty disoriented."
Antonio nodded. "Yeah, that's quite normal."
"And then... and then I told him that I love him."
"Oh..." Antonio had had the feeling this was going to happen sooner or later. He had suspected she had such feelings for Lovino, but he had naïvely hoped that it was something akin to the love that a sister would feel for her little brother, rather than a romantic sort of love. Now Antonio could kiss his chances with Bella goodbye. Unless... "What did he say, then?"
"H-he said—he said—" she began to sob again. "He said he doesn't feel the same way about me."
"Oh... I'm sorry," he said awkwardly, torn between feeling relieved that his chances weren't totally over and feeling bad for Bella.
The girl had fallen apart once again, now leaning on his shoulder. Antonio blushed and held her comfortingly.
"B-but, Antonio... He said some horrible things to me! Really horrible things!"
"What?! To you?"
"Yes!" She nodded against him, her blonde hair tickling his chin. "Horrible things!"
"Wh-what kind of things?!"
"Oh! I can't even bring myself to say it! It's still too painful! Every word he said was like a dagger to my chest..."
Antonio saw red.
"He shouldn't have done that!" he snarled.
He knew quite well how foul Lovino's mouth was. When he felt threatened – either physically or emotionally – he lashed out at innocent people, and he would often become quite vicious. Now that he was going through such a hard time, it was only to be expected that his temper would be even nastier than usual.
However, there was no excuse for this. Bella had confessed her love to him, offered him her bare heart, and he had stomped on it! When he had needed to reject his flirts, he would always be as tactful and apologetic as possible, yet he acted this cruel towards the one girl who genuinely cared for him and had done everything in her power to help him, even going as far as leaving her home and her grandmother behind. This was unforgivable!
"Bella, please try to calm down. Will you be all right by yourself for a minute? I'm going to have a word with Lovino," he said in a low tone that sounded foreign even to his own ears. Bella was too upset to notice it, though, so she just nodded and mumbled something about going to get some water to wash her face.
Antonio barely registered her words; he marched to the room where Lovino had been resting for the past few days. It was empty. Well, no matter. He couldn't have gone too far. Antonio proceeded to search the church and soon found Lovino, who was just emerging from a confessional. Antonio's gaze locked on him, everything else obscured by a red haze. With a roaring curse, Antonio reared his arm back and punched Lovino in the face, knocking him off his feet. It all happened so fast that Lovino probably hadn't even known what hit him.
"Mr. Carriedo!" exclaimed the scandalized priest, who had also just left the confessional. "There will be no violence in the House of God!" He knelt down to aid Lovino, who was sitting up and cradling one side of his face, a dull glare trained on Antonio. "Moreover, how can you hit your friend, who is still weak and recovering from a serious illness?"
"I'm sorry, Father," he said, mostly sincere. He did regret losing his temper like that on holy ground, though he didn't feel too sorry for hitting Lovino, weak state or not.
"What the hell was that for, asshole?!" Lovino yelled at him once he was back on his feet and completely ignored the priest's chiding exclamation at his inappropriate language.
"Let's take this outside," said Antonio, feeling a little calmer now.
"So that you can continue what you just started and beat the crap out of me? I'm not that stupid!"
"Oh, for God's sake, I'm not going to hit you again," said Antonio, a little embarrassed. It wasn't as though he was some kind of violence-loving maniac. "I just want to talk to you. Alone," he added with a glance at the priest, who gave him a reproachful look but obediently stayed behind while Lovino warily followed Antonio outside.
"Well, what the hell is this all about, then?" asked Lovino, ever so petulant. "Make it quick. I don't have all day."
"It's about Bella?"
"Hm? What about her?"
Antonio took a moment to just stare at him, unable to believe it. How could Lovino act so casual, as if he had done nothing wrong?!
"You complete and utter bastard!" he exclaimed, though astonishment still coloured his tone. "Just—Who the hell do you think you are?"
Lovino was visibly taken aback, with good reason. Antonio didn't usually get down to Lovino's level and start swearing and calling people names, even if they deserved it. It was a sure sign that Antonio was truly furious, as opposed to vexed or upset.
"What's your fucking problem?!" snapped Lovino, clearly trying to match Antonio's mood with his own usual prickliness, but failing quite badly. He seemed to be mentally and physically drained, with dark rings under his dulled eyes, and rather than look threatening, he just looked tired and confused. Antonio would have felt sorry for him, but the memory of Bella weeping, her heart shattered into pieces by Lovino, stomped on any and all sympathy Antonio might have felt.
"As if you didn't know! She was crying so hard she could barely talk, and she told me it's all because of what you said to her!"
Lovino's pallid face immediately reddened at that and he sputtered. "Well, I didn't mean to make her cry, but I had to tell her the truth! It was a necessary thing!"
"Necessary?! I think it was quite possible for you to be honest with her without being cruel! You're such an expert, smooth heart-breaker, after all!"
"Look, it's not like I enjoy it!"
"Oh, right! You just can't help your nasty temper, can you?" Antonio sneered. "You need to hurt other people before they hurt you, right?"
"Asshole," Lovino said dully, probably to give himself time to come up with a wittier comeback. "I did what I had to do and I swear to God I tried to be as gentle as possible. No, I didn't tell her the things I'd tell any other girl, because I didn't want to giver her any false hopes. If she's crying that hard because of it, it's her damn fault for being a sappy, over-sensitive brat!"
"How dare you! How dare you talk that way about her and say such outrageous lies with a straight face? Bella told me—she told me you said horrible things to her! Horrible, unspeakable things!"
"What the fuck?! I did no such thing! I only told her I wasn't interested and that I wanted to be alone for a while, damn it! That's all!"
"Are you calling her a liar?" Antonio whispered, that dangerous red haze beginning to obscure his vision once again. He stepped forwards so that he and Lovino were only a few inches apart, accentuating the difference in height between them. Just let Lovino try to say it to his face!
"Yes! Yes, if that's what she told you, then she's a big fat liar!" Lovino spat, not seeming to be intimidated in the least even when Antonio was looming over him with such a threatening aura.
With a growl, Antonio grabbed the shorter man by the front of his shirt and drew his arm back for another punch. This time, Lovino fought back, giving as good as he got; he wasn't much of a fighter, but he would be damned if he took any more abuse without even trying to defend himself. What he lacked in strength, stature, and skill, he made up for with feistiness.
"I'm so tired of your attitude! Why do you always have to be such a jerk to everyone?!" Antonio yelled, aiming a kick at Lovino's stomach while holding him in place by grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling it.
"Yeah, well, I'm fucking sick of your attitude! Why do you have to act so goddamn happy and stupid all the time! At least now you're showing your true colours, you two-faced bastard!" Lovino yelled back while he flailed and kicked and punched almost blindly, actually managing to land quite a few hits.
"You're one to talk! Always leading those poor girls on—"
"At least I never pretended to be their friend only to betray them when they thought they could trust me the most!"
If Antonio were in his normal frame of mind, he would have realised this was as close as Lovino would ever get to admitting he considered Antonio his best friend and that he trusted in him. Right now, however, he just didn't care.
"What about Bella, then?" he said, finally succeeding in pinning Lovino to the ground. "She thought you were her friend and that she could trust you! She sacrificed so much to help you, she left her home and her grandmother behind, just to help you, and what did you do to repay her? You broke her heart, insulted her, and God knows what else!"
"Goddammit, Antonio, I've told you I didn't do anything to hurt her! She's lying! I bet she planned all this! She must have manipulated you into beating the crap out of me just to get back at me for rejecting her! Shit! Get off me, you heavy bastard!" Lovino managed to knee him in the gut, but Antonio didn't let him go.
"Even now, you're still lying and saying horrible things about her! I can't believe I've put up with you all this time! And you wonder why even your own grandfather obviously liked your brother better, you idiot!"
This time, it was Lovino who hesitated, and unlike Antonio, he froze physically as well as mentally, his eyes wide in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. It only lasted for one second, though, and soon he was kicking and screaming twice as much as before, vile curses streaming out of his mouth in torrents.
"Bastard! Burn in fucking hell, asshole! I fucking hate you, you disgusting son of a bitch! It's your fucking fault all this is happening to me, anyway! Jerkass! It was your fucking idea! I goddamn hate you! I hope you drop dead, you—"
"Gentlemen!" a third, alarmed voice was heard, along with hurried steps. "Gentlemen, please stop it this instant!"
"You two, break it up right now!" another, roaring voice barked at them.
"What is going on here?" yet another voice asked, perplexed.
Two pairs of strong hands grabbed Antonio, each by one arm, and lifted him off Lovino. Ludwig and some other man he had never seen in his life – most likely one of the villagers – restrained him while the priest once again helped Lovino to his feet, also keeping a firm hold on his arm so that Lovino wouldn't make any move to attack Antonio.
"What the hell is wrong with you two?" Ludwig roared right into Antonio's ear, half-deafening him for a minute. However, both he and the priest were soon staring accusingly at Lovino.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" asked Lovino in indignation. "He's the one who started it!"
"You must have provoked him," said Ludwig.
"I didn't! He's the one who's out of his fucking mind! Why does everyone always assume I'm the bad guy?! Let me go, damn it! Don't touch me!" he snarled at the priest, shaking him off quite rudely. "I'm going back in there, and I don't want to be bothered by this nonsense again!" he shouted and, having thrown a last dirty glare at Antonio, he stormed off back into the church, still mumbling obscenities to himself.