Lovino panted softly as he trekked up a steep mountain trail, the course had started off enjoyable enough. He and Antonio had fallen into an amicable silence, and the gently sloping path guided them around beautiful sights of red and yellow capped trees and the occasional peacefully gurgling river. Lovino appreciated the isolation the surroundings afforded, he felt his mind could stretch to the top of the tall pines and for the first time in months, maybe even years, he could actually breathe. His chest didn't feel so tight, the knot of tension that he had grown accustomed to had loosened, whether from his conversation with Antonio or the relaxing mountain air, and he could feel his cold breaths seep into his chest and swirl happily in his hungry lungs.

Somehow Lovino had lost sense of time, and so he didn't know if the path had become more treacherous, or if he had simply reached his limit, but soon his limbs started to feel heavy and his chest burned with breathlessness. He supposed the air must be getting thinner the higher they trekked, but Lovino was determined to not pant like his body begged him to do. He didn't want to call attention to himself, he knew Antonio must already think him weak and pathetic, he didn't want to further that conception by asking if they could head back or panting like he had never endured any serious exertion in his life. Yet, despite his best efforts, Lovino had fallen a few feet behind Antonio, and the air that passed through his lips was becoming noisier with each step.

'Don't notice, don't notice, don't notice,' Lovino's mind raced. He had suffered enough injustices for one day, hell, for one lifetime. It wasn't fair, he thought, that he should be the one constantly falling apart, the one always suffering injuries and break-downs. He didn't know what great deed Antonio had done to deserve such excellent luck, but he resented that he seemed to possess none. He supposed it must be karma, Lovino had done nothing with his life to deserve goodness in return, so his retribution for years of pushing people away and regarding them cruelly must be terrible fortune. 'But you got to meet Antonio,' His traitorous mind reminded, making him throw his palms to his forehead from embarrassment over the thought. "Stupid," he mumbled to himself, shaking his head in frustration.

"Ah, what was that?" Antonio asked, glancing over his shoulder at the distant Italian and slowing his pace to a stop. "Are you ok?"

"Fine," Lovino snapped back, throwing his arms back to his side and wincing at how breathy his voice sounded.

Antonio studied the Italian's flushed cheeks and knitted his eyebrows in concern, "Maybe we should rest for a while," he suggested, kicking a few leaves out of the way before lowering himself to the ground.

"I said I'm fine," Lovino huffed back in argument, struggling to keep his breath as shallow as possible.

"I didn't say you weren't," Antonio laughed, folding his hands behind his head and leaning backwards till he was laying on the cold ground. "I just want to rest for a bit."

"What are you doing?" Lovino panted as neared the laying Spaniard and flopped to his knees next to him.

"The sky's nice today," Antonio replied wistfully, smiling sadly at the slight wheeze from the boy next to him. "Lay down and take a look."

"I'm not going to lay in the dirt," Lovino choked out, casting his eyes up to take in the hazy light blue afternoon sky. In truth he would have liked to sprawl out on the ground and take in the tranquil autumn atmosphere, but his lungs felt like they were on fire and he thought it would be easier to take in breath if he was sitting up.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Antonio said after a while, concerned by the way the Italian's voice shuddered every time he exhaled.

"Yes, drop it already," Lovino growled, frustrated that he was being required to talk. All his progress in catching his breath as casually as possible was ruined when Antonio forced him to speak.

"It's ok if you're not, though," Antonio replied calmly, staring unblinking when a collection of dark crows marred the sky's hazy blue face. "You know that, right?"

"Just shut up," Lovino gasped back, Antonio wasn't making him feel any better, he hated being the focus and desperately wished they could be silent again so he could fully regain his composure.

"I'm serious," Antonio pushed himself up on his elbows to stare at the Italian's flushed face. "I don't want you to feel like you can't be honest with me," he continued, voice level and calm, "you shouldn't be ashamed."

Lovino could have cried if he wasn't so irritated. He wasn't ready to admit his weaknesses, in fact the idea was appalling, he hated attention and he doubted if that would ever change. But the fact that someone seemed genuinely interested, even genuinely concerned, made his heart swell despite his strongest efforts to remain unaffected. "I'm fine," he rasped again, a finality in his words that made Antonio sigh and lower his head back to the ground.

"If you say so," he complied, stretching an arm over his head and staring at his tanned hand against the soft blue sky. Antonio let his eyes glaze over and watched curiously at the way his warm complexion mixed with the hazy clouds, he felt guilty that he had dragged the Italian on this trip. He had thought that all the boy needed was some time away from the studio, but now he was realizing that Lovino's issues ran deeper than just being overworked. The Italian clearly had some deep-seated insecurities, and he doubted his ability to help him work through them. Antonio felt an unexpected anger towards himself for being incapable of offering Lovino any real help, he had grown to care for the boy over the course of the last month, and his uselessness bothered him more than he would have previously thought.

"What are you doing?" Lovino asked after a while, satisfied with the way his breathing had finally evened.

Antonio snapped to attention and pulled his hand back down, pushing himself back to a sitting position before shaking any refuse from his wavy brown locks. "Nothing," he laughed, "I was just thinking how nice it'd be to comb my fingers through the clouds."

Lovino knitted his eyebrows in irritation and rolled his eyes to the heavens, "so stupid," he muttered in faked anger.

"I bet it'd feel like cotton candy," Antonio continued jovially before glancing at the Italian's pale face and feeling silent relief at the softer shade of red in his cheeks. "Anyway, you ready to keep going?"

Lovino scrambled to his feet and folded his arms in front of his chest, "I've been ready," he muttered obstinately.

"Ah, right, sorry," Antonio shuffled to his feet and stuck his tongue out in pretend embarrassment. If it made Lovino feel better to act as if he had not been struggling, then Antonio would play along, even if it did bother him that the Italian was so unwilling to share his trials.

"How much farther is it to the top?" Lovino asked, hoping his voice came across as disinterested as he had intended.

"Mm, I'm not sure," Antonio admitted, brushing off his knees before straightening back up and stretching his arms behind his head. "It has to be close, though."

Lovino hummed in quiet agreement before marching past the stretching Spaniard to continue hiking up the steep incline. The heaviness in his chest returned almost immediately, his lungs burned from deprivation the higher he climbed, until finally he was forced to stop on a small plateau off the path when his vision swam dangerously.

"You ok?" Antonio asked when he saw the Italian careen from the path and bend over his knees, chest heaving for air. Lovino didn't answer, he was too busy forcing deep breaths into his tired body. "It's the altitude," Antonio continued, walking over to the hunched boy to rub a comforting hand on his back. Lovino shivered under the Spaniard's warm touch, he resented that his traitorous body was forcing him to display his weakness once more, though he noted with a small amount of satisfaction that Antonio was panting as well.

Lovino cleared his throat and pulled himself straight, "I'm fine," he wheezed, his shoulders shaking from the effort. "It's just that," he paused, darting his eyes around to discover a reason for his departure from the marked trail. "The leaves," he decided after a moment.

"Uh, leaves?" Antonio stammered, tilting his head as he tried to decide what the cryptic message might have meant.

"Mm," Lovino nodded, throat hitching at the peak of each deep inhale, "they're all over the path, it's too dangerous." He finished when he had gained his composure, pointing towards the steep, red and yellow speckled path for emphasis.

"Yeah, but-"

"It'll be slippery," Lovino cut in immediately, "it's not safe."

Antonio hummed softly and looked to the sky before turning back to the Italian, an understanding smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "If you're scared, you can just say so." He teased, chuckling slightly when Lovino's eyebrows drooped in anger.

"I'm not." The boy quipped, "I just don't have a death wish."

Antonio nodded knowingly, "It's ok, we can go back," he reassured, gripping his palm on the Italian's thin shoulder and squeezing it once to indicate his understanding. Lovino tensed under the touch, he knew the Spaniard was only placating him, and it pissed him off. He supposed he deserved it, he hadn't exactly been the epitome of strength around the older boy, but he felt he still deserved respect. After all, he had survived his so-called impossible school program largely unscathed, and he thought that should count for something.

"Forget it," Lovino growled, shrugging off Antonio's touch and digging his nails into his thighs, "let's keep going."

"Lovi, don't be that way," Antonio scolded half-heartedly, "it's really not a big deal." Lovino didn't hear the words, his ears were full with the sound of his own racing heart, he knew he had become weak of mind, but he didn't want to be weak of body, too. Somehow this trail had become indicative of his life's tribulations and short-comings, and he was determined to prove that he could overcome them. It was stupid, he realized as he flew his arms out to steady himself when his feet slid backwards, slipping by the accumulation of slick refuse on the underused path. Making it to the top of the mountain would change nothing: it wouldn't fix his years of wasted life, it wouldn't make him more interesting or his personality any more redeeming, and it wouldn't make Antonio love him, or make him worthy of that love if he were to receive it. Yet, he couldn't make himself stop once he had begun, he needed to know that there existed something in the world that he could properly accomplish, and what's more, he needed Antonio to know it.

Lovino stumbled forward when his foot landed on a rogue root and cursed when his feet slid out from beneath him. "Careful," Antonio laughed, grabbing the Italian by his elbow before he could hit the ground and hoisting him back up. Lovino's ears burned as he stood still, eyes facing up the rest of the steep incline while his body caught up to his mind. "What's the rush?" Antonio prodded, concerned with the boy's sudden silence.

"I want to see the view," Lovino wheezed, refusing to regard the Spaniard's worried face.

"Well look around then," Antonio smiled, pulling on the Italian's soft sleeve in an attempt to catch his attention. "The view's good here, we don't have to go to the top to see it."

Lovino didn't blink, he didn't nod or sigh, he wasn't going to give into Antonio. He could take care of himself, he had for years, and he was determined to prove it. He wasn't entirely sure why it was so important, except that he wanted the Spaniard to know he did possess positive qualities. He wasn't just whiny and depressed and self-loathing, he was also obstinate and largely self-sufficient, even if the latter had been acquired more from necessity than choice.

Lovino took one last deep breath and started up the hill again, gritting his teeth against the burning in his lungs. Some part of him wished he could acquire Antonio's devotion in the normal ways, by doing kind things and being generally affectionate, but he couldn't let his guard down long enough to act that way. He couldn't escape his own head, and what's more, he had already ruined his chances at a normal relationship. He had blown up in front of the Spaniard too many times, had been too revealing, too emotional and needy, he knew Antonio had to think of him more as a charity case than a person worth pursuing. And so he hated the way the Spaniard would smile at him sympathetically, or the way he would pat his shoulder and speak reassuring words. It made Lovino's desires stronger for the thing he could never have.

Lovino felt his eyes burning and cursed mentally, he was incapable of doing anything correctly. He had been trying to show Antonio that he wasn't just a pathetic, blubbering sob story, and in the process had worked himself to the edge of another collapse. Lovino had to consider the idea that he wasn't as strong as he had once thought, that Antonio had been correct in repeatedly calling him sensitive. He understood that the Spaniard hadn't meant it as an insult, yet it had felt like one all the same. His mother's own delicate heart had ultimately been the cause of her downfall, and as much as Lovino loved her, he didn't want to be like her, and he had worked his whole life to become someone completely different. But now, as he reached the top of the treacherous trail, his lungs screaming for the oxygen that couldn't pass quickly enough through his gaping mouth, he realized his genetics were something that he couldn't escape, and it shook him to his core.

"It's beautiful," Antonio's gentle voice sounded close to Lovino's ear, making the Italian jump from the unexpected noise. He hadn't noticed the boy standing closely behind him, watching to make sure he didn't stumble or fall, but it comforted him to know he had been there. "Isn't it?" Antonio prodded, panting slightly from the high altitude as he stretched his arms over his head and stared squinting at the soft white sun.

It took a minute for Lovino to realize what the Spaniard was going on about, before he noticed the ground beneath his feet had leveled out and the spiraling path had drawn to an end. He glanced to Antonio and then to the edge of the steep cliff before padding over to gaze at the wavering green tips of the scattered pines. The gentle autumn breeze ruffled through his soft hair, pushing itself around his body like a chilly embrace. He understood, as he stared at the hazy gray silhouette of the distant mountains sloping gently against the pale blue sky, how someone could be inspired to throw themselves into the arms of the welcoming autumn wind. If the earth was caving in around your feet, then wasn't the best option to cast yourself into the sky? Lovino understood how someone could feel that way, even if he didn't agree. He clenched and unclenched his vibrating palms, chest heaving as he thought about the way his mother's hair must have swirled around her thin neck, the way it must have felt like flying.

"Let's go back," Lovino said suddenly, stumbling back from the edge of the cliff and over to the skyward-facing Spaniard.

"What?" Antonio asked, pulling his arms back to his sides and lowering his vision to the Italian's pale face. "We just got here," he laughed half-heartedly, tilting his head at the fickle boy.

Lovino didn't respond, his eyes were stinging from the effort to push breath into his lungs, but his chest felt heavy, like all his burdens had nestled into his breast, and the oxygen couldn't enter quickly enough to clear them. "Are you ok?" Antonio asked, grabbing the Italian by the shoulders and trying to force him into a kneeling position.

"Fine," Lovino squeaked out, wincing inwardly at the weakness in his voice. A dark vignette was edging into the corners of his vision and the surroundings faded into black and white, the image flickering as if he was watching the events unfold on a television with bad reception. Lovino lost all association with his body, he didn't feel it when Antonio slipped a strong arm and his back and eased him into a laying position, he didn't hear the soft coos of comfort escaping from the Spaniard's mouth, or the way he pulled his limp body into his chest and lovingly combed his messy tendrils. All he could do was stare unblinking at the quickly darkening scenery around him.

"Breathe," Antonio whispered affectionately into the unresponsive boy's ear, "just breathe mi amor." He rocked the Italian's body softly, trying to encourage the boy's deprived lungs to fill with air. He smiled faintly when he felt Lovino's lithe fingers weakly grasp his sleeve. He wanted so badly to show the boy that he was important, that he mattered to him, but he seemed to only embarrass the Italian and unconsciously push him away. It was only in moments like these, when Lovino's barriers were momentarily demolished, that he could sense the beautiful person underneath. It made his heart swell inside his chest to think how soft the Italian's face looked when he thought no one was watching, or how lovingly he regarded life around him, Antonio wanted to spend every second with the boy so he would never miss those rare slips.

Lovino snapped back to consciousness with a sharp, shuddering breath. The darkness in his vision slowly cleared, replaced with a dull throbbing in the back of his head. He tried to remember what happened as feeling returned to his heavy limbs, he looked down at his cradled body, trying to recall the person that belonged to those soft, tanned hands. Finally his mind cleared and he leaned back, his head lolling a little too heavily from his still feeble muscle control. "What," he started clearing his throat when his voice came out as a squeak, "what are you doing?" he tried again, pushing his elbow against Antonio's muscular chest in an attempt to be released.

Antonio complied and lowered the boy out of his lap, still holding a hand to his spine to avoid him falling backwards. "You were about to pass out," He explained hesitantly, unsure if he should be truthful at the risk of disturbing Lovino's ego.

Lovino only sighed and slumped forward, drawing his hands to his face to softly massage his pulsing temples. "Well I'm fine now, so you can leave me alone," he grumbled, jerking his back forward to escape Antonio's touch.

Antonio leaned back on his heels and sighed, "we should go back to the car, you probably need some water."

Lovino nodded in silent agreement, it felt like it had been hours since his apple cider, and he was suddenly filled with an unbearable need for liquid. He placed his palms flat on the ground, pulling a heel under him and slowly hoisting himself up. The earth tilted almost immediately and he lowered himself back down, pausing there as he tried to regain his bearings. "Let me carry you," Antonio jumped in immediately, kneeling down in front of the Italian in an offer to hoist the boy onto his back.

Lovino knit his eyebrows in anger and scoffed, "no way in hell," he spat, wincing at the way his stomach churned from the pressure in his head.

"C'mon Lovi, just-"

"I said no!" Lovino snapped back, leveling an angry glare at the Spaniard's turned head.

Antonio sighed and straightened up, turning to regard the squatting Italian. "Lovi," he began, pausing to squint at the distant mountains, "do you hate me?" He asked finally, a calm smile flickering across his features before he glanced back down at the boy's gaping face.

Lovino only shrugged, his hesitant posture enough to make the answer obvious. Antonio nodded knowingly and cocked his head to the side, "then why can't I carry you down?"

Lovino felt a warm blush work it's way into his cheeks, he knew he couldn't answer truthfully. He didn't hate Antonio, rather he wanted to impress the boy, to show him he could be strong. And if he was honest, a part of him enjoyed the discomfort, because a rarely recognized masochistic streak reminded him that if he was in pain, he was alive. And if he was alive then he wasn't like his mother, no matter the countless number of similarities between them.

"Lovi?" Antonio prodded again, unsatisfied by the boy's silent response.

"What?" Lovino snapped back, irritated by the uncomfortable interrogation.

Antonio laughed half-heartedly at the outburst and lowered himself to his knees so he could stare into the Italian's eyes. "Do you hate yourself?" He breathed when he was certain he had regained the boy's attention.

Lovino's heart froze at the words, "n-no," he sputtered out before he had the chance to consider answering otherwise. He did hate himself, he felt the fact was obvious, and it frustrated him that Antonio would try to force him into admitting it.

"Then why do you insist on torturing yourself?" Antonio pressed, staring sympathetically into Lovino's soft hazel eyes.

Lovino's mind was filled instantly with a number of honest answers, none that he would ever consider offering to the concerned Spaniard. He didn't understand why these were questions worth asking, because he didn't find it possible that Antonio could see him as anything but a useless crybaby. The only thing he was truly apt at was living, something that came so easily to normal people, to Lovino had become a chore. He could suffer an untold amount of injustices, and while they had certainly broken down his mind and possible even squandered his personality, his body would continue on. He forced lungs to inhale, and his eyes to blink, he made himself eat, even when it felt useless and uncomfortable to do so. Sometimes he thought it would be easier to be a robot, the maintenance would be less complicated and people would expect the coldness with which he regarded them. Then he could carry on, living because his mother didn't, and taking care of Feliciano because his parents never had the chance.

So if he unconsciously tortured himself, it was because a part of him thought he deserved it. He offered nothing to the world, instead all he could do was take: take the resources that he required for living, the love that some unfortunate oblivious souls had given him, and the space that some more worthwhile person could be filling. He deserved punishment for his crime of believing he was worth keeping around.

"I'm not, I mean, I don't," Lovino said after a minute of silence.

"What-"

"I'm fine." Lovino interrupted, wincing inwardly at his lame excuse.

"You're not," Antonio said simply, not leaving room for argument. "And you're never going to be if you don't let people help you."

Lovino sensed Antonio was talking about more than just this isolated incident, and his face felt numb from embarrassment. "I'm fine," He repeated, voice quiet but firm.

Antonio sighed and reached a hand forward, gently brushing the hair from Lovino's pale forehead. "You don't hate me, right?" Lovino sighed and rolled his eyes, tilting his chin to the side in a half shake. Antonio smiled lightly and nodded, "ok then, let me help you."

Lovino turned his eyes to the ground, pretending he didn't notice when Antonio turned around again in an offer to lift him onto his back. He was scared to let Antonio help him, because if he let him in this once, then who's to say it wouldn't happen again. It was a catch 22, Lovino realized. The more he let the Spaniard in, the more he found it unfathomable to imagine a life without him in, but he knew the opposite would be true for Antonio. If the man was allowed to sneak past the Italian's heavily guarded barriers, he would realize just how empty Lovino really was, and then he would be unable to imagine a life with him.

"Lovi?" Antonio asked, peering over his shoulder to study the boy's stressed features.

Lovino shook his head slightly from side to side, "just go without me," he said so softly it was barely audible through the rustling of the brittle leaves.

Antonio hummed in understanding and turned his head back around, "take all the time you need, but I'm not going anywhere till you're with me."

Lovino's ears buzzed as he stared at the soft contours of Antonio's back. He knew the Spaniard wasn't lying, though he didn't know why. Antonio wasn't going to leave unless Lovino was with him, and so when he finally reached his hands across the boy's strong shoulders and allowed his legs to be hoisted up by his sleek, muscular arms, he found he didn't feel as guilty as he might have. The decision had been taken out of his hands, and so he could allow himself to enjoy the brief contact.

Antonio didn't speak as he carefully navigated back down the steep trails. His heart had swelled in his chest when Lovino had finally given in to him and allowed himself to be vulnerable, it was a small step, he knew, but compared to his past interactions with the Italian, it felt that one step had carried him a mile. "Antonio?" A soft voice sounded. He started slightly, disturbed by the sudden interruption to Lovino's even breathing and the occasional crackle of dead leaves under his feet.

"Hmm?" He breathed, smiling gently when he felt Lovino nuzzle his face into the nape of his neck.

"I'm not fine," Lovino said simply, his words so quiet that they were all but lost to the still autumn atmosphere.