Devastation. That was the only way to describe how he felt.
Antonio sat on top of the rumpled blankets as the agony buried deeper into his mind, staring impassively at the wall, ignoring the alarm clock that was bleeping successively faster and faster from his bedside table.
It had just been a dream. All a dream.
Even though it had felt so real, even though he could see every detail of the world like any ordinary memory, even though he knew he couldn't have imagined that place, he'd just woken up in his own bed like the ending of the most clichéd stories in existence. And the disappointment, the humiliation, the sheer pain of it all lacerated his heart with dagger-sharp tendrils.
He really must have gone mad with grief, dreaming such dreams. Francis and Gilbert were right after all. He had overreacted and was suffering delusions from it. Almost a fate worse than death; seeing the only thing that was making him happy in his dreams, but it was all a trick of his mind. He couldn't believe he'd thought it was real.
Cursing his own naïveté, he pulled himself reluctantly off the bed. He still had to go to school today, after all. To move on, to begin to forget. It was the only way for him to be happy again. Even though he dreaded its impending approach.
But all he could feel was disappointment and loss.
With his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his blazer he trudged gloomily up the road to school. After the brilliance and colour of Lovino's heaven, no, the dream world, the regular world seemed so dull and uninteresting, like a bland, colourless wall. No, he had to get past that. Stay with reality.
"Bonjour, Antonio," Francis' voice sounded hesitantly behind him. "How are you feeling this morning?" His expression was concerned, but there was an underlying nervousness about it, like he was expecting another enraged outburst.
Antonio sighed. "Not great. But, I've been thinking a bit and...you're right. I haven't been acting right for a while now, and I need to realise that and get back to reality. I'm sorry for shouting at you guys yesterday, too."
Francis smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Do not worry about it, mon ami. I'm glad you are a bit closer to recovery. We will be there for you every step of the way."
"Yup!" Gilbert interjected from Antonio's other side. "The Awesome Me is here for ... er ... for moral support and that. Yeah. By being awesome."
"Thanks, guys." Antonio gave a half-hearted attempt at a smile.
"You're welcome," Francis replied. "C'mon. We need to be getting to school, if we are to be attending today."
"Can't we just skive off?" Gilbert asked. "It was awesome the last time we did that, when we went-"
"No," Francis said firmly. "Bad Gilbert. We're going to school. Allons-y."
Several hours later, Antonio found himself once again in the cafeteria with Francis and Gilbert, feeling like he was a world apart from the chatting students clustered around the room.
"Your recovery going alright, Toni?" Gilbert asked through a mouthful of something German that Antonio couldn't remember the name of. "How many times have you zoned out in class today?"
Antonio gave Gilbert a derisory look, but didn't have the energy to answer. He had zoned out a lot in class, but no one had noticed and he wasn't going to specifically tell people about it. Particularly as Gilbert, awesome as he was, wasn't the most tactful person in the universe.
"Say, Gilbert, how's your election campaign going?" Francis asked in an effort to change the subject. "Who do you think will vote for you? Hmm, perhaps we should count." Francis, as far as Antonio had been following the proceedings – which wasn't very much – had gotten into another of his fights with Arthur and, after having come off worst, was now supporting Gilbert in the upcoming student council elections. They seemed to have conveniently forgotten saying that they'd forget about it.
"Ok," Gilbert nodded. "Well, there's us, for starters. That's three off the bat. West'll vote for me too, 'cos I'll make him and stuff, and if he does, then Feli'll do so too. Gilbert 5, Arthur 0." He folded his arms and grinned, satisfied with his summation.
"Arthur gets a vote of his own, and Alfred'll vote for Arthur as opposed to you too, so it's not exactly 0," Francis corrected him. "He'll probably get Kiku's vote too, and Roderich's."
Gilbert scowled. "Damn, he's catching up. Well, the awesome me will also have Mathias and Matthew's votes. I'm still winning." He stuck his tongue out triumphantly.
Antonio forced himself to keep concentrating on the conversation. It'd help keep his mind focused and besides, watching two sides square off in this school inevitably led to interesting consequences. Even if he wasn't quite as interested in them as usual.
"Toris, Feliks and Ivan will vote Arthur as well, as you don't get on well," Francis continued, looking like he rather enjoyed playing devil's advocate. "Donc, Natalia and Katyusha will vote the same way. What's that, 9-7 now?"
"I'll have Angus, Llewellyn, Sean and Patrick's votes too," Gilbert argued. "They may be his siblings, but they hate Arthur. Maybe I'll get Lilli too. Also Yao, 'cos he doesn't like Arthur much either.
Francis shook his head, fluttering his long blond hair all over the place. "Yao's more likely to vote Arthur – they're tea-drinking buddies – and Meimei will because Kiku will. Also Li Xiao, Michelle and possibly Annelise. Im Yong-Soo will, of course, vote for himself even though he's not in it. He claims elections were 'made in Korea', after all. Vash will abstain, as he always does. I don't know how the rest will vote, as they're not really allied either way."
"For me, 'cos I'm awesome," Gilbert replied firmly. "Lizzy's a wild card, though. If we're on good terms, she'll vote for me; if not, Arthur. Note to awesome self; don't piss off Lizzy for a bit."
"You'll fail," the ever-faithful Frenchman replied.
"Bite me,"Gilbert snapped. "Are you sure you're on my side? 'Cos it looks here like you're secretly fucking Arthur." He gave Francis a fierce glare.
Francis sighed, a wistful smile on his face. "Oh, I wish. Point aside, you obviously can't trust people, let alone your friends." A loud ringing noise cut through the end of his statement, which both of them ignored.
"It's too much fun for the awesome me to be alone!"
"Bell," Antonio pointed out through their argument, cutting Francis off before he could make another cutting remark. Gilbert scowled again and threw his bag over his shoulder before crashing out the cafeteria over the top of several unfortunate people.
And so, the dreary hours of school eventually passed. Making up an excuse about having work to do, Antonio walked quickly out of the gates by himself, staring fixedly at the floor. He just wanted to get home. Although he wasn't sure what he was going to do with himself once he got there.
The half-hour walk home seemed to take forever, each step continuing repetitively into the next with no clear ending. Despite it being spring, there was still a chill breeze in the air, and Antonio found himself longing for the radiant warmth of Lovino's world. No matter how hard he tried, it was proving impossible to shake the thoughts from his mind. The verdant fields, the winding streets of the town, Lovino's surprised golden eyes. He just wanted to see them again. No. Bad thoughts, Antonio. Stay away from the dreams, it's not healthy.
Antonio collapsed on the sofa without even bothering to take his blazer or shoes off, devoid of energy and mind a blank mush. After several minutes of his face embedded in the soft material of the sofa he sat up, red fold-lines across his face, and tried to pull himself together. There really wasn't anything that he felt like doing. Maybe watch some TV?
Locating the remote buried under a fluffy red cushion, he pointed it vaguely at the TV and pressed the power button. The news was just starting as the screen burst into life, but ten minutes of financial crises, suspected murder and failed politics later, he dismissed it as too depressing and pressed the remote again. He watched twenty minutes of a comedy that completely failed to make him laugh, then flicked across to another channel once it got boring. Several dozen pointless channel-hops later, he finally decided to turn the box off. As usual, there wasn't anything on worth watching. Not that that was really a surprise.
He thought about trying to do some of the homework he'd been set, but quickly dismissed it as pointless. It wasn't even something that was interesting, so he probably more had negative motivation to do it than anything else. What to do, what to do, what to do.
Hmm. Perhaps some food would help, it was about time to eat anyway. Wandering into the kitchen, he delved in the cupboards and came up with a few tomatoes and some churros he'd made a few days ago. The food cheered him up slightly – tangy tomatoes and deliciously sweet churros always did – but only for the duration of their existence. Once they were gone, the melancholy acceptance that was becoming all too familiar took over again.
Antonio glanced at his watch as he wandered upstairs, noticing it was getting slightly dark and hoping it was fairly late now. The display glowed 18:34. Damn. There was ages of the evening still left, and he didn't even want to think about the weekend that lay beyond that. Hours and hours of unfilled time, with no point or end. He really needed to do something about that. Only ten days ago, he had too much to do and not enough time to do it in. Now it was the complete opposite.
Out of a lack of anything else to do, he headed into his bedroom, picked up his guitar from the stand by the wall and half-heartedly strummed a few chords, letting the music gently soothe him. For a while it worked, each note striking a new image in his mind as he played, fingers walking unthinkingly across the frets as the melody continued. A half-smile wandered onto his face as he began to relax.
Then, out of nowhere, his fingers slipped and a jarring discord pulled him harshly back to reality. Thoughts of despair and Lovino once again came back to the forefront of his mind. Frowning slightly, Antonio pushed them away and started playing again, but he'd barely touched four strings when the melody broke off again and screeching dissonance grated his ears again. Frustrated, he tried again and again, but each time ended in the same exasperating outcome. He just wasn't in the right mind to play.
He sighed and instead gathered up the clothes he'd discarded this morning, taking them downstairs to the washing machine. There was enough there to merit doing a load, if only to kill a bit more time.
Faint starlight peeked through a gap in the kitchen curtains as he knelt down before the appliance and began to sort the clothes into piles according to colour. T-shirt, underwear, a sock...where was its partner sock? Trousers, a jacket, ah, there's the other sock, a shirt...
His heart stopped. That shirt...it had a rip up the left sleeve. It had been perfectly fine when he'd come home from school yesterday. The only way it had been ripped could have been...
The tomato fields.
Was it real after all? he wondered, confusion once again seizing his brain in a knotted vice. There's no other way my shirt could had gotten ripped yesterday, after all. It had to be then. But then...that means I really went there. I can't believe it. Did I really...? With a great effort, he forced the hopeful thoughts away and shook his head fiercely. No. Even if it was real, there's no way I could get back there, no matter how much I wanted to. Like it or not, I guess I just have to move on. He sighed. I'm so sorry, Lovi. I wish I could have said that to you in person. I wish I could have spent more time with you. But I guess we're doomed to be apart.
Abandoning the washing, he stood up again and headed back upstairs. He needed another early night, then he'd sleep until tomorrow afternoon and forget that this all happened. It was the only way he could move on.
And yet, as he let sleep take him once more, there was a faint spark of hope lying buried in his heart.
Hehe :3 Silly Toni, doubting his dream-realities.
Anyways, I reckon Chapter 7'll maybe be up quite soon, 'cos I wrote half of it before I'd got up to the first time-skip in this one. I wanted to get back to the Lovino parts. This is chapter's just a break. Lots more Lovino parts soon (probably).
Oh, and, just as a note, Angus, Llewellyn, Sean, Patrick, Li Xiao, Michelle and Annelise are Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland, ROI, Hong Kong, Seychelles and Belgium respectively. I'm not sure where I'm going atm with the Gilbert-election side-story, but it's fun as an additional thing. Not to detract from the main story though.