Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Kicking the Bucket List
six
"I'm going blind, but one thing's clear,
Death is the only salvation for me."
— The House of Wolves by Bring Me The Horizon
That night, Lovino shoved the sloppily crafted noose underneath his bed, hidden in one of his Nike shoeboxes. He'd made it after his Sociology class was over. Like he told Feliciano, he took a walk. A long one, along the outskirts of the wood.
He found more inspiration in the wood than in the park, truth be told, so he scrapped his previous work and worked on it again. After a while, though, he had stopped to take a break. He decided to pull his phone out and search for tutorials on making a hangman's noose. I-It was getting dark, so the knot ended up being pretty shitty. But still, it felt somewhat comforting in a way to have that noose in his backpack, like the safety one would feel having a rosary in their pocket.
Sure, it was sick and twisted as fuck. But for once, he felt like he had control over something in his life.
It was like he found comfort in the promise of death. After all, it was inevitable. The only thing in this world anyone could ever be certain of. And everyone, despite rank, reputation, race, monetary possessions or beliefs, would eventually succumb to it.
In the end, it only proves that push comes to shove, we're only humans.
…Lovino wasn't exactly sure what the fuck happened, but it sure as hell seemed like he had fallen into a routine. It's been several days now of the same thing.
Everyday, Feliciano would wake up during the ass crack of dawn, belting out tunes from Billboard Hot 100 and concocting a myriad of colourful breakfast foods. Everyday, he would dance and prance around the room, trying to get Lovino to d-dance with him (what the actual fuck?) or at least sing with him.
Hahahaha, no.
Hell, no.
Over my dead, sexy Italian body, no.
Ahem.
B-Besides, Lovino had no time for shit like that, d-dammit…
His day, however, would never fail to worsen the moment he stepped out of the apartment building. Dio, it was the absolute fucking worst.
Remember the Spanish bastard that tried to corrupt Feliciano's purity? The one who was partially immune to Lovino's Virginity Guardian Armour?
Yeah, he would be there.
In front of the goddamn building.
Every fucking morning.
Doing what, you ask?
Cheh, the stronzo would just fucking loom there outside like some goddamn stalker with bouquet upon bouquet of roses dedicated to his 'precious Feliciano'. P-Perverted creep…
To Lovino, it was reminiscent of the music video for Mariah Carey's song 'Obsessed'.
The only thing it lacked now was a bus to ram into the Spaniard and launch him across town.
'Where's Feliciano?' the little shit would ask the moment Lovino exited the apartment building. Every fucking time.
A-And Lovino was fed up with it, dammit!
"You know, I'm pretty sure this is trespassing of private property, asshole." Lovino sneered, exiting the building a Monday morning.
Then the bastardo would just give him this irritatingly ignorant smile, "Ahaha~ This is an apartment block~ I'm not trespassing anyone's home, Lovino~."
Lovino's face flushed red in frustration. Che palle! "Yeah? Well I can report you to the goddamn police for stalking my brother, you creepy Spanish bastard!"
And as if on cue, Feliciano would skip out of the building. Lovino always, always has to intercept the Spanish bastard's hugs— with his motherfucking foot— before he has the chance to glomp (and further corrupt) his innocent fratello.
The bastard just wouldn't give up. And i-it's bad enough that Lovino couldn't get the bastard to leave him and his fratello alone, no, the fucker lingered.
It was annoying as fuck.
The absolute best Lovino could do was to stay in between Feliciano and Antonio as they c-conversed, like some kind of fucking cockblock barrier o-or something…
Fuck.
He seriously needed to get his shit straightened out, ASAP.
There were many things Lovino didn't want to be, and being a 'cockblock barrier' was definitely one of them.
A-And everyday, he would be so livid by the time his first class came around, he couldn't even fucking function properly. Learning and processing new lessons isn't exactly a walk in the goddamn park when you feel like ripping a certain Spaniard's throat out.
Dio mio, whenever he happened to have the same classes as the bastard (Antonio's an irregular student in his math and philosophy classes), he would try to resist the undeniable urge to fucking defenestrate him, but just barely. Just. Barely.
He could tell, though, that the Spaniard wasn't too happy about his being around either, always asking Feliciano if they could just t-talk in private. So when he and Lovino had classes together, it was like Antonio was trying to annoy him with stupid questions and remarks on purpose as some kind of payback. He saw that gleam of irritation and mischievousness in his emerald green eyes, and it was painfully obvious that the smile on his face was fake. It was almost taunting, even. Truth is, he was no different than that self-proclaimed Prussian dickhead, Gilbert, or that perverted French fuckface, Francis. After all, birds of the same feather flock together, right?
Lovino wasn't sure exactly how long he could take being around the idiot anymore before he finally committed a felony.
But Dio, it would feel so fucking good.
He snapped out of his tantalisingly illegal thoughts. It's funny how imaginative the human mind can be with the right kind of pissed. Funny, but at the same time, somewhat scary and unnerving. How perturbing would it be to realise that you have the inner workings of a psychopathic serial killer?
Feliciano and that bastard were still talking animatedly. Lovino rolled his eyes, taking a glance at his watch. He had the same math class as that Spanish bastard, but it didn't seem like he would be leaving Feliciano alone anytime soon.
…Asshole.
He felt conflicted.
Either he leaves them be and not be late for class, or he looms there until the idiot finally leaves his fratello alone.
Dio, that's a tough one.
But the Vargas didn't want to be marked as 'late' so early in the academic year because some Spanish fucker thinks he has the so-called 'suaveness' to get into his fratello's pants. That is never going to happen.
Ever.
"I'm going now," Lovino murmured to his brother, rolling his eyes.
Immediately, Feliciano directed his attention to his fratellone and gave him a quick hug. "Ve~ I'll see you later, Lovi~!"
Lovino's face reddened, trying to pry Feli's arms off him "W-What the fuck? Don't just h-hug me like that in public, dammit!"
"Aww, that's so cute~!" Antonio suddenly gushed, starry-eyed at the display.
"Ugh, stop staring, you perverted fuck!" Lovino spat out, voice absolutely dripping with rancour.
The smile on the Spanish bastard's face faltered by a fraction. The older Vargas inwardly smirked.
"Ahaha~ Right. Lo siento, Lovino." Antonio laughed, but it was obvious that his laugh was fake. He glanced down at his watch then looked up at Lovino, eyes slightly more serious, more dark. Like a hidden gleam of murderous intent.
Looks like Lovino wasn't the only one with closeted psychopathic serial killer tendencies around here.
The Italian let the smirk slowly creep upon his face in a mocking manner.
Feliciano ignored the promise of future bodily harm exchanged between the two and clutched the bouquet of roses Toni had given him to his chest. "Ve~ Thanks for the roses again, Toni~!"
As if a switch had flipped, Toni turned to Feli with an oh-so genuine grin on his face. "Ah, it's no problem, Feli~! Anything for someone as cute as you~"
"But you really don't have to, Toni~ Our apartment is filled with roses now~!"
"Oh? Then if you want, I can give you chocolates instead~"
"This is disgusting." Lovino inadvertently blurted out, abruptly turning around and walking away. "I don't have time for this. I'm leaving."
"Ah, I better head to class," Antonio concurred, pointing at his watch. "I don't want to be late~!"
Feliciano nodded in understanding. "Bye Toni~! By fratello~! I'll text you during lunch, Lovi~!"
The older Vargas didn't bother looking back. "Yeah, whatever."
"If you want, you can text me during lunch~!" Antonio had the audacity to say.
Sleazy bastard.
"V-Ve~ You two better get to class now~!" Feliciano exclaimed, waving at them goodbye. Little did the other two know he was internally panicking. What if fratello starts chasing Toni again?!
"Ah, si, si! I'll talk to you soon, Feliciano~!"
Ve~ Grazie a Dio~ He didn't acknowledge it! Crisis averted~!
"Ciao~!"
And Antonio finally turned around, following the other Italian to their class. He sped up a bit more, grabbing Lovino's forearm.
Lovino whipped around to face him, fist clenched and poised to punch. "What the fuck do you want?!"
"What is your problem, Lovino?" Antonio demanded, eyes narrowed. "I'm just trying to be the nice guy here, but you aren't even trying to be nice to me."
"Bullshit. What do you even mean by 'nice guy'? You think you're nice because you're trying to screw my brother? And why the fuck should I even 'try' to be nice to a fake bastard like you? At least I call it how I see it, and all I see right now is a fucking asshole." Lovino jerked his arm away, casting a sneer at the Spaniard. He continued walking.
"Oh, and you're the one to talk! Ahahaha~" Antonio 'laughs' in response, hot on the other's heels.
The Italian scoffs at him, "Yeah, I am, because it takes one to know one. At least I can find it in myself to admit it."
A pregnant silence falls over them before Antonio is the one to break it.
"God, why can't you be more like Feliciano?"
Lovino's stomach lurches. He stops dead in his tracks, leaving the Spaniard to bump into him.
"H-Hey, what was that for—"
"I ask myself the same thing all the fucking time," the Italian responds, tone bitter with contempt. "I'm going to say this once, and I'm going to say this slowly." He turns to face the Spaniard, toe-to-toe as he glared up at those emerald eyes.
And for the first time, Antonio was taken aback with the intensity of hazel. His heart had skipped a beat before it started to thrumagainst his chest. D-Dios mio…
"You don't know me. You never will. Got it?" The Italian before him seethed, and, as promised, each word was pronounced slowly as it sunk into the Spaniard's conscience.
The latter's breathing intensified as he gave the other a curt nod.
T-Then Lovino turned around and walked into their classroom.
Antonio was just left standing there, feeling overwhelmed in a way. With what, he didn't know.
…Yet.
He stood there for a while before he finally entered the room.
"Fernandez-Carriedo, you're late." His math professor drawls, prompting a handful of people to chuckle.
"Ah, lo siento, Señor Robertson." Toni apologised, grinning sheepishly at him.
"Just take a seat, Mr. Carriedo." Mr. Robertson says, writing out a couple of equations on the board.
"Ah, si! Gracias, sir," And with that, Antonio made his way up to his seat in the back of the room.
Beside Lovino.
Dios, the tension between them was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. He could feel it from all the way across the room, even!
Slowly, he took his seat beside the Italian, who did not acknowledge his presence. Instead, the latter was busy scribbling something down in his notebook, some words barely intelligible as they danced across the page, line by line, word by word.
Antonio didn't know why, but Lovino was always engrossed in his notebook. He always wrote.
About what, he had no idea.
He had a hunch it contained innumerable expletives though. The older twin just seemed so angry and unapproachable all the time. Actually, scratch that— he is angry and unapproachable all the time.
But why?
Lovino was pissed.
W-Well… more pissed than usual, anyway, d-dammit…
But, no, seriously. Who the fuck does that Spanish bastard think he is, comparing him to Feliciano like that? If there was one thing he hated more than himself, it was being reminded of what he already knew. E-Even though Lovino's gotten used to the comparisons already, that didn't mean they didn't affect him anymore. So, yeah, it still did. It sure as hell did.
And you know what?
It fucking hurts.
It hurts a lot (N-Not that he'd admit it to anyone else, anyway, d-dammit).
Like, yeah, thanks for fucking rubbing it in his face about how much better his brother is. It's like rubbing salt into his wounds, kicking him when he's already down. And he, for the sake of himself, could not find a way to get back up on his feet again.
In all honesty, he didn't want to. Not anymore.
After being brought down time and time again by the people around him, he'd given up a long time ago trying to pick up the pieces. Because since nothing would ever get better for him, why even bother trying, right?
Because no matter all the bullshit you go through in life, it all ends the same, right? So why not just give up?
Nothing's going to change— at least, for the better— so why even try at all?
The duration of the class, he had to suppress this lump of feels forming in the back of his throat, feeling an onslaught of tears sting the back of his eyes. He felt like a wuss because of it, but he wouldn't let anyone see him cry, and they never will.
He won't give them that satisfaction.
Plus, why should that Spanish bastard's opinion matter to him anyway? He's no different than the rest of them.
Right?
As the class came to an end, he felt the Spaniard's eyes lingering on him for a few seconds. Just as Lovino was to meet his gaze with a pointed glare, a retort readied on the tip of his tongue, Antonio had grabbed his bag in haste and left.
Lovino's eyes narrowed, trained on Antonio's quickly retreating form.
Fucking weirdo.
Translations:
Dio - God (It.)
stronzo - asshole (It.)
bastardo - bastard (It.)
Che palle - what a pain in the ass (It.)
fratello - brother (It.)
Dio mio - oh my God (It.)
fratellone - older brother (It.)
lo siento - sorry (Esp.)
si - yes (Esp.)
grazie a Dio - thank God (It.)
ciao - hello/goodbye (It.)
Dios mio - oh my God (Esp.)
señor - mister (Esp.)
gracias - thank you (Esp.)
Dios - God (Esp.)
Hayy~ I tried to finish this chapter in time for the weekend since I'll be pretty busy next week.
OH, YOU *sassy hand wave*
Thanks so much for all of the reviews! I'm not kidding when I say they made me blush. I feel so elated~ [CRIE S T EA RS OF J OY]
Anyways, I'm sorry this chapter was kinda really short D: I'll totes post a longer one next time~ but I hope it was up to par. This chapter was kind of like a filler intended to shed much needed light on Toni and Lovi, and how much shittier their relationship has gotten since that day in the diner. Who knows what'll happen next? ?
[suSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
Review, por favor~!
~jellydonut16~