Know that wisdom is such to your soul, if you find it, there will be a future, and your hope will not be cut off. (Proverbs 24:14)

Since it was still early in the morning on a Monday, the diner was still quiet and sparsely occupied. This was fortunate for them, since it usually wasn't easy to get a table to seat eight people at once. Lovino wasn't sure why he agreed to this. Other than the two that shared his last name, he barely knew these people. Still, it was somehow comforting that they all had at least one thing in common- Antonio.

For a while, they avoided the one thing they had in common and instead spoke of petty things. They spoke of the food they were eating, the weather, and American sports teams none of them- aside from Alfred- cared about. It wasn't until Lovino looked the group over and realized something was missing that he forced them to stop avoiding the elephant in the room. "Hey, guys? Did anyone tell Antonio's family about this?"

Gilbert exchanged a knowing glance with Francis before throwing his arm over the Frenchman's shoulders. "That would be us."

Lovino stared back at them, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well," said Francis. "Antoine's parents did not exactly, um, react well to his coming out. Their religious views are much more traditional than his." He shook his head and brought his hand to his chest. "It really is a tragedy."

The implication sunk in. Lovino looked down at his food, having lost his appetite. "Oh," was all he could say. Antonio had managed to amaze him yet again, despite not being there. He smiled so bright and laughed so deep after all he had been through- during what he was still going through. Lovino instantly wished he was back at the hospital. It was a while before he could speak again. "What about his other friends?"

Another knowing glance, another long pause. Gilbert was, of course, the one to speak. "Antonio has a lot of acquaintances," he said, putting emphasis on the last word. "Friends? I'm not too sure. He's awesome, sure, but a lot of people just view him as a novelty. Like, they like having him around until they realize he has problems just like everyone else in the damn world. He knows a lot of people that just want happy, silly, joking Antonio, but they can't handle anxious, sad Antonio. It's really un-awesome of them, but it's the truth."

Feliciano looked down at the table. "That's awful."

Francis nodded in agreement, then looked at Lovino and smiled coyly. "I suppose you, mon cher, are now a part of our little dysfunctional family as well."

Lovino almost glared and shouted in protest, but didn't. He allowed a small smile to play on his lips when he realized that didn't bother him one bit.

For the first time since he arrived at the hospital that morning, Matthew spoke. Lovino was sure everyone had almost forgotten he was still there. "Um, sorry, but are you sure it's okay for Alfred and I to be here? We don't know Antonio all that well." A blush was already appearing on his face. He looked away. "This all seems a bit personal."

Francis put on hand on his shoulder. "Mathieu, dear, of course. Antonio wanted you to come. You may not realize this, but he has a soft spot in his heart for all of you." He glanced quickly at Lovino again and smirked. "Maybe some more than others."

Gilbert's interjected excitedly before Lovino could respond. "Did he ever tell you guys the pig story?"

They spent the rest of breakfast talking and laughing, remembering and reminiscing. The more they got to talk, the more Lovino realized that these people actually didn't bother him as much as he thought they did. To his surprise, Alfred spent a good five minutes talking to Lovino about Antonio, how worried he was about him, how kind he was, and how thankful he was to Lovino for doing what he did. Maybe there was more to him than just 'obnoxious American.' Matthew sat on the sidelines for the most part, mostly going unheard when he tried to speak. Gilbert, apparently, was not happy about that. He struck up a conversation with Matthew and only Matthew, and watched as his violet eyes lit up like lights on a Christmas tree. Ludwig spent his time comforting Feliciano, and Lovino had to be grateful for that.

Lovino left the diner feeling like he had something he hardly ever had before.

Friends.

.

Antonio was on suicide watch for three days. So for three days, Lovino visited him. Sometimes with Feliciano, sometimes alone, sometimes running into Gilbert or Francis or both of them somewhere along the line. The visits passed with idle conversation, long, comfortable silences and timid kisses. Lovino found it strange if not outright disturbing how Antonio could continue to smile, continue to laugh as if he did not understand what had happened to him. Part of him believed it was an act, a façade for the sake of those around him. It was not until the third visit that this front finally wavered.

They were sitting on the bed as always, Antonio laughing at some trivial thing that Lovino could not remember. It might have been funny, maybe it wasn't, but Lovino could not laugh either way. He just looked at him, the questions that he had been anxiously waiting to ask for hours, for days, overtaking his thoughts. Finally, when Antonio's laughter ceased, he allowed the thought to become words. "You don't seem upset." It wasn't until after he said it that Lovino realized how out of place it sounded.

Antonio continued to smile. "Well, I would hope I don't seem upset, because I'm not," he said with a small shrug. "How could I be upset when you're here?"

"No." Lovino shut his eyes and searched for the right words. This damn expectation that he express his feelings properly, it was still something he wasn't used to. "No, I mean…you haven't been upset since…" His voice dipped, and he had no choice but to look away. "Since what happened. You're still so damn happy all the time, and I don't think it's normal. For God's sake, Antonio, you're in a hospital!" Lovino could not bring himself to say 'suicide watch.'

Just like that, Antonio's bright smile was gone. "I see."

Lovino could not stop his next question. "Are you faking it?" Quickly realizing he could easily be misunderstood, he added, "Being happy?"

Antonio opened his mouth as if to speak, closed it, and looked out the window. "You really are wise, Lovino." His strong, even gaze flickered downward, and for the first time Lovino could see the swirl of conflicting thoughts behind it. "Truthfully, I haven't given much thought to that. All my life, happiness was the thing that got me through my troubles." His next words sounded like he was saying it to himself. "Maybe if you lie to yourself long enough, it becomes reality."

Lovino bit down on his lip, unsure how to finish this now that he had started it. His stomach twisted at the sight of a sullen Antonio, but it somehow seemed…more honest. He said the very first thing that came to mind. "You can't do that," he said. "If you feel like shit, you need to acknowledge that, or you'll always feel like shit."

Antonio gave a short, quiet laugh that was almost a sigh. "Such a way with words."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "You know what I meant."

"Oh, I do. It makes perfect sense," Antonio said with a brief lift of the hand. Then, he took a good look at himself for what seemed to be the first time in awhile. Slowly, he pushed up his sleeves. He looked at the stitches in the arm he usually kept under the blankets, the scar that resided on the other, and finally the bleak room around him. He didn't look up for a long while. When he did, his eyes were dark and his face was pinched with pain. His voice was quiet, strained. "Perfect sense…"

An understanding silence fell over them, and it seemed as though they had an entire conversation without uttering a single word. Antonio lowered his face to Lovino's shoulder, brought his arms behind his back, and cried until visiting hours were over.

.

Come Sunday, Lovino felt as if he had aged about ten years in seven days. In the course of a week, his world managed to implode on itself, die at his feet and then burst into a new beginning, just like that. Things were starting to patch themselves back together into some semblance of familiarity. Antonio had been released from the hospital, armed with a set of instructions from his physiatrist and the watchful eyes of Gilbert and Francis to keep his health in check. Much to Lovino's dismay, Antonio was hell-bent on going to church despite it all.

When it got to be five in the evening, Feliciano and Lovino came to an agreement: since Antonio had said he would somehow go to church, they would too. If he could do it after all he had been to, they sure as hell could. Roma, however, was incredulous.

"Boys," said Roma after they made the announcement. He paused, his eyebrows drawing together and his face pinching in guilt. "You do know that there's no way in hell I expect you to go back there. We can find another way to get you confirmed. The people running that church are vile."

"We aren't going for them, Grandpa," Feliciano said, his eyes darting quickly to Lovino. "We're going for Antonio."

Lovino said nothing, only nodded firmly in agreement. Anything for him.

Roma finally allowed a smile to stretch across his lips. He placed his hands on each of his grandsons' heads and ruffled their hair. "I have raised such mature, brave, wonderful young men," he said. Feliciano beamed. Lovino looked away in partial embarrassment, though he felt a twinge of pride in his chest. "Say hello to Antonio for me. Come home any time, no questions asked. Alright?"

They both nodded, and Lovino walked with Feliciano to the hell that contained his heaven.

.

Antonio was smiling. Of course he was smiling; but something told Lovino that it was not the same. There were dark circles under his eyes, he appeared to have lost a bit of weight, and he pulled at his right sleeve almost compulsively. However, his eyes brightened once he caught sight of them. The reaction seemed unmerited to Lovino, but that did not matter. If his presence made Antonio feel better, he had no choice but to believe it and be happy about it.

"I can't say I expected you two to come." Antonio finally stopped messing with his sleeve and let his arm lay flat by his side. When he continued, his voice was softer. "Thank you. It really means a lot. God knows getting through this sermon won't be fun."

Lovino's thoughts sped up to about a million miles a minutes. Surely there was a way to make this better. Then, an idea hit like a cool rush of air. "Don't be stupid. We're not going to the damn sermon."

Antonio tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowed in confusion. "What else would we do?"

Feliciano looked equally as confused. Lovino crossed his arms over his chest. "A few weeks after class started. Remember?" He hoped the message hidden between his words was clear.

His hope became reality when the puzzlement on Antonio's face faded in a brief moment. He smiled almost manically and nodded in understanding. "I'll get the others. Go ahead without me!" With that, he rushed off in the other direction like a kid going down the stairs on Christmas morning.

Feliciano stood silent with a blank expression for what felt like a very long time. "I feel like I'm missing something, here," he said finally. "Lovi, what's going on?"

Lovino smirked. "You'll see. Come on, follow me."

He gestured for Feliciano to follow him with a short hand signal. Without another word, Lovino lead him to the storage room where the only things more prevalent than dust were memories.

Just ten minutes later, the entirety of the group had gathered in the room.

"Why are we here again?" asked Alfred, as he looked around at all the boxes. "I mean, don't get me wrong, anything is better than listening to that guy. This place just seems a little weird."

Antonio laughed wildly and threw his arms up in the air as if to cheer. "This," he said triumphantly, "is where we will have our real group meetings!"

"Real?" said Feliciano, "What do you mean? Our old meetings were real, I mean, we went to them and everything, so they seemed pretty real. Are we even supposed to be up here? I don't think we're supposed to be up here."

Antonio laughed again. "When I say 'real,' Feli, I mean we won't have any crazies breathing down our necks to make sure you absorb whatever bigoted message they made up for that week. We get to do and say whatever we please! I'll start. See this?" He held up the folder that Lovino still did not know the contents of. In one triumphant motion, he threw it to the other side of the room, sending a spray of white paper across the dusty floor. "We're done with that!"

The simple act felt like an entire movement, a revolution. Feliciano laughed and cheered with the enthusiasm of someone watching his team win the World Cup. Alfred let up a loud 'yeah!' Ludwig and Matthew stayed stoic as always, but Lovino could hear their chuckling through the chorus of celebration around them. For a brief second, he allowed his old self to slip through and felt momentarily annoyed. His moodiness was cut short when he realized what they were celebrating: freedom. Before Lovino realized what he was doing, he let out a cheer. Antonio turned to him, smiled as brightly as the sun, picked him up under the arms and swung him around.

Lovino did not protest. He only smiled.

.

Antonio's group soon found themselves in a routine. Every Sunday, they would all slip past the few authority figures of the church and meet in the storage room. They sat in the same spots every time: Lovino and Antonio on the couch, Alfred and Matthew sitting against boxes, and Feliciano using Ludwig as some kind of chair. Sometimes he would sit in his lap; sometimes he would lie across it. Sometimes he would sit leaning against his back, and other times he would simply sprawl out on the floor in front of him. Lovino gave up on hating the potato bastard. The smile on Feliciano's face when he saw him was enough to at least try and get along.

The meetings passed in a lethargic blur of honest conversation, story telling and plenty of laughter. During these times, they talked about everything. A variety of topics were covered: Love, family, friends, school…even things like human nature and society, just to name a few. Nothing seemed to be off limits, and no one was judged. Lovino was sure that if there were a God, he would approve of what went on among those boxes.

Interestingly enough, the group held a variety of opinions about God despite them all having previously been labeled as 'Catholic.' Alfred, for example, confessed to not believing in God. He said he felt that way since he was a child, yet never admitted it until that very moment. Ludwig said he had no strong feelings one way or another. Feliciano had one of the more well thought out beliefs- he believed in God and in heaven, but he had decided sometime after the retreat that he did not believe in a hell. Antonio and Matthew both stayed silent, and Lovino stuck to the answer he was sure he would use for a long time if not the rest of his life: I don't know. Because he didn't know; and that was fine.

It wasn't until almost two months later that their little euphoria broke.

When Antonio called late afternoon on a Saturday, Lovino's pulse grew too quick in an instant. He had purposely avoided the phone in the weeks after what they were now calling 'the incident.' It seemed as though Antonio could never call and have it end well. Still, Lovino knew far better than to ignore it. He would never, ever take that chance. Without allowing himself any time to think about it, he answered. "Antonio? What's wrong?"

There was a pause, then an unbearably loud crash before Antonio spoke. "Lovi, could you come over?" He sounded much too calm. Then, he let out what sounded to be a battle cry and there was another loud crash.

Lovino felt a familiar cold panic creep up his spine and dizziness overtake his mind. "What the hell is going on?" He paused, closed his eyes briefly and let the unthinkable cross his mind. Not again. Please. "Please tell me you aren't…"

Antonio did not allow him to finish. "Never, Lovino. You know that." Lovino exhaled in relief, and Antonio went on to explain without him having to ask. "My therapist told me I needed to let out my anger, so I'm throwing pots." He said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Anyway, could you come? I could use someone to talk to right now- mierda!" He heard something that sounded like metal clanging to the ground. "…I dropped it on my foot."

Lovino felt his panic diminish and turn to a mixture of annoyance and confusion. "Bastard, I'm not coming if you're going to throw pots at me!"

"Oh, mi corazon, I would never throw them at you."

Lovino believed him. Still, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, groaning loudly as he did so. Antonio was just as bizarre as he was interesting. One thing caused his worry to reappear: he had never seen Antonio this angry. "What are you even angry about? Would it kill you to make sense for once?"

"This would be easier to explain in person." He said the words calmly, but a mere couple of seconds later Lovino heard a loud scream on the other line followed by yet another loud bang.

"Alright, alright. Just calm down." Lovino attempted to remove all the malice from his voice. "I'll get there. Your house better still be standing when I do!"

When Antonio responded, his calm voice wavered just enough for it to be noticeable. "Gracias, mi corazon." He said it like he was out of breath.

Antonio had taken to using that nickname it shortly after they got together, and it felt like Lovino's veins were filled with light whenever he heard it. However, he would never admit that he loved it. Right then, he was to busy worrying about this uncharacteristic outburst to care. "Whatever. Give me ten minutes."

Lovino hung up the phone, pulled on his coat and made his way to the front door. "Grandpa? I have to go somewhere."

Roma appeared from around the corner. "And where would that be?"

Lovino quickly came to the realization that he didn't know how his grandfather would take this. Even if he claimed to be okay with the relationship, Lovino could not be sure just how okay with it he was. But that did not matter. If Antonio was hurting this badly, he could not afford to be idle and cowardly. He cleared his throat and looked at the floor. "Antonio needs help," he said, struggling to sound casual and hoping these words would be enough.

To his utter shock, Roma smiled and nodded slightly. "I understand. Try to be back before dinner." He took a step forward and clapped a hand on Lovino's shoulder. He looked up to meet his gentle gaze. "I am so proud of you, Lovino."

The words evoked a strong surge of pride that Lovino hadn't realized he was capable of feeling. He felt his chest swell and his eyes grow bleary, and he could only say, "I'm doing what any decent person would do."

Roma chuckled softly and nodded again. "I would have done the same for my Helena in a heartbeat. That does not make me any less proud." He did not sound patronizing or unauthentic. If anything, Lovino felt as if they were speaking as equals. "Do you need a ride? It's still pretty cold."

"No, I'll be fine." Lovino was more than happy to walk. It would serve to clear his mind. He turned to the door and opened it, but froze in place when Roma spoke again.

"I love you, Lovino."

It wasn't that his grandfather had never said it before. It was that Lovino had never really listened. He considered mumbling something under his breath and rushing away, but he felt no real need. "Love you too, Grandpa."

.

Even though Lovino was still outside of his house, he could hear Antonio screaming. He was stunned that none of his neighbors had called the police yet. His thoughts were cut short when he winced at the sound of a deafeningly loud crash. Lovino was almost afraid to knock on the door, his hands shaking and a sweat breaking out on his forehead despite the cold. If there was one good thing about this disastrous situation, it was that Antonio had finally learned to express an emotion other than happiness. Keeping this in mind, Lovino pounded on the door.

"Antonio!"

As if someone had managed to mute the entire world, the screaming and crashing abruptly ended. The only sound left was a series of quiet footsteps, and finally the door creaking as it opened. Antonio, being the ridiculous, wonderful idiot he was, was smiling. "Lovino." But the second he said it, something inside of him seemed to snap. He took a staggered step forward and embraced Lovino so tightly it was as if he was afraid he would turn to smoke if he let go. Lovino slowly, carefully brought his hands up and touched Antonio's arms.

They stayed like that for what felt like both an eternity and a single blink of the eye. Once Antonio had calmed down just enough to let go, Lovino leaned in the door and surveyed the condition of his house. The pillows had been thrown off the couch, almost everything that had once been in the kitchen drawers was now on the floor, and one of the bookshelves was toppled over. Even in this state, the house reminded Lovino of one thing and one thing only: that panic-drenched, life-alerting night all those weeks ago. With the unpleasant memory threatening to invade his thoughts, Lovino could only say, "Come on. We're taking this outside."

.

Sitting against the house in the backyard, the chilly late-March winds filling the silence, Lovino still did not know what had happened. But Antonio must have read his thoughts the way he always seemed to do, because he spoke before Lovino could even ask. "I got an email."

Lovino pulled his knees into his chest in an attempt to ward off the cold. "How exciting," he mumbled, confused by the seemingly random statement. Then he realized this must have to do with the reason he came, so he said, "What did it say?"

Antonio hung his head and let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you familiar with the L-G-B-T pride event that takes place in the city every year?"

Lovino was familiar with it, if only vaguely. It had been on the news the previous year, but he had quickly changed the station. Watching it would have forced him to think about things he wasn't ready to consider. It was funny, how much could change in just twelve months. "Yeah, I know what it is. Why?"

Antonio laughed in a short, humorless way that bordered on psychotic. He clapped his hand together once and smiled; though it was obvious the very act was out of sarcasm. When he finally spoke, his words bounced up and down almost as though he was singing. "Our church is planning to protest there. They want certain youth groups involved, and we got picked." He shook his head and ran a weary hand through his hair. "Wonderful, isn't it? We get to make a spectacle out of ourselves, all while telling a group of innocent people all about how they're going to burn in hell for loving someone. Really, it's just…" His voice caught, and he hung his head again. The sarcastic smile disappeared, and he said the last word in a whisper. "… wonderful."

"Oh." Lovino felt a surge of anger boil his blood as the words sunk in. His mind flew to the pride parade protests he'd seen online, complete with the vulgar signs preaching hate and the shrieking extremists holding them. Out of all the things that church had done, this could very well be one of the worst. To take what's supposed to be a happy, accepting place and turning it into a breeding ground for their filth…Lovino clenched his fists in fury, and for a moment was on the edge of having a meltdown that would put Antonio's to shame. But at the end, he could only whisper. "Oh."

"I went last year, you know. Before the church went to hell," Antonio said unexpectedly. "I went with Francis and Gilbert. It was wonderful. Never in my life did I feel so accepted, so free…why, I'm sure Gilbert ended up wearing nothing but a rainbow flag at one point. Francis disappeared with some gentleman halfway through." He smiled at the memory, genuinely this time, and shook his head. "And now everything is ruined. They expect me to go against everything I believe, everything I am. They are taking a safe place from the people that need it most. And to think, there might be someone there who suffers from the same condition I do, and then they see something like that…"

Antonio stopped abruptly, as if the words were becoming too much for him. His brows knitted together in what appeared to be another round of vehemence, and it wasn't until then that Lovino noticed the tears falling from his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, he held out his hand. Antonio took it immediately and squeezed it just a bit too tightly before continuing to speak. "I must have read that goddamn email about ten times before it registered. When it did, well…you saw the aftermath."

Lovino nodded and felt almost pathetic when he realized that was all he could do. What was there to do? What was there to say? Antonio was hurting, and he was powerless to do much of anything. It was almost ridiculous, really, how he felt so guilty over things that he simply could not control, but it hurt too damn much to shrug off.

Just as he was about to give up on doing something about this completely, Lovino spotted a pile of rocks sitting next to them. Perhaps there was one thing, albeit small, that he could do. He stood up, pulling Antonio up with him. "Antonio, who lives in that house?" He pointed to the house on the other side of the fence.

Antonio blinked, looking confused. "No one. My neighbors moved out a couple of months ago."

"Alright." Lovino stooped down and picked up a couple of the rocks. When he stood up straight again, he handed them to Antonio. "Throw these."

Antonio stared at the rocks as if he had no idea what they were. He looked at Lovino with a blank expression as though to ask for instructions. Lovino rolled his eyes and explained. "Look, you need to let out your damn anger without destroying your house."

"Oh."

And Antonio understood. His face contorted in rage, and for the next ten minutes Lovino watched in careful fascination as he hurled the rocks into the yard of the vacant yard, screaming like a madman the entire time. Other the past three months alone, Lovino had witnessed more sides of Antonio than he ever thought possible when he first met him. For so long, he had considered him as someone that was eternally happy. How foolish that had been. No one can be happy one hundred percent of the time, even if they try with all their might like Antonio does, for the sake of those around him. Lovino felt almost special. Antonio was allowing him to be a firsthand witness to this raw, gritty emotion that he kept hidden from nearly everyone else. No matter how heartbreaking it was to see, that was really saying something.

Just as suddenly as it started, it ended. Antonio screamed once more, and immediately after his entire body went limp. He dropped the last of the rocks and took a series of long, deep breaths, as if he had managed to exhaust himself. He sunk down and sat against the wall next to Lovino, seemingly too tired to even so much as stand. It seemed as though a lifetime passed before he said anything; and when he did, he sounded relieved. "Thank you."

Lovino adverted his eyes. Why did Antonio always have to thank him for things he had nothing to do with? "I didn't do anything."

Antonio shook his head. "You took time out of your day to come over. You helped me vent. What more could I possibly ask for?"

Even if it was ridiculous, Lovino could not help but think of the one thing he could not do: he couldn't stop the protests from happening. A series of conflicting thoughts tumbled through his mind, overlapping each other, snuffing out everything else in the world. In the midst of this desperate frenzy, the most ridiculous thing Lovino had ever thought up entered his mind. Any other day, he would have scoffed and cursed himself for even entertaining such a thought. But today, he wasn't left with many other options. Without allowing himself time to grow embarrassed, he turned to Antonio and said, "I have an idea."

Lovino spun the little silver ring Antonio had given him on his eighteenth birthday a few weeks ago, stared into the distance and vocalized the ridiculous thoughts pin-balling off of each other in his mind.

.

A minute or so later, Lovino stopped speaking. The minute his mouth stopped moving and the unthinking words stopped falling from it, he felt an overpowering humiliation sink in. It did not help when after a split second of silence, Antonio burst out laughing. Of course. Of course he was laughing, because everything Lovino had said was absolutely ludicrous and juvenile. What had he been thinking; he should have never opened his mouth, he-

"Lovino, that may just be the best idea I have ever heard."

Lovino went from thinking at a hundred miles an hour to barely thinking at all. Frustration overtook his mind as he watched Antonio continue to giggle to himself. Laughing at him was one thing, but patronization was a completely different level of insulting. "Shut up, bastard!" he said almost unconsciously. "I know it was stupid, okay? You don't need to rub it in."

"No, no it isn't." Antonio looked amused if not strangely excited. "Is it ridiculous? Yes, absolutely. That's exactly what I like about it. But is it stupid? No. You know what I always say about things that are ridiculous."

The best things in life are often ridiculous. Lovino would never admit it, but the words Antonio had put in his mind that first day they met had become a bit of a mantra for him. Not knowing what else to say or do, he stared at the ground and said the first thing that came to mind. "It would cost you your job."

Antonio laughed. "Damn right it's going to cost me my job. But you know what, Lovino? I don't think that bothers me one bit," he said. "Tell you the truth, I've been looking for other work. I think I'm ready to leave this place behind."

Lovino rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in exasperation. "Then what does it matter? Just quit before the damn protest!" He shook his head, his expression a mixture of confusion and outright amusement. He doubted he would ever see the day that Antonio made any semblance of sense. "We sure as hell could have saved a lot of time if you told me that earlier!"

Antonio leaned back against the wall and looked into the sky, chuckling lightly as he did so. He smiled like someone who had just been granted his freedom. "Well, I was only considering quitting before. But now that you came up with that, I plan to go out with as obnoxious of a bang as I can muster."

Lovino could not help but smirk. Of course Antonio would be on board with something as silly, absurd and potentially wonderful as this. Silly, absurd, wonderful…these things made up the very essence of who he was. "We're really doing this." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Si! Well, we'll have to go over the details with the others, but I'm sure they'll be more than happy to help. I can't wait to see the look on that man's face after-" Antonio looked down at his arms, frowned abruptly as if someone had flipped a switch, then immediately folded them over his chest. Lovino noticed something that should have smacked him in the face the moment he arrived- despite the cold, Antonio was wearing a t-shirt. His stomach twisted into painful knots, and he looked away before Antonio finished speaking in a voice so small it was almost swept away with the wind. "After all that has happened."

The atmosphere grew cold and heavy almost instantaneously. The sinking feeling in Lovino's chest felt as if someone had fastened as anvil around his heart. He realized with a sympathetic ache in his gut that Antonio would likely be ashamed of those scars for many years, if not his entire life. No, this was unacceptable. With empathy and fluttering adrenaline acting as his muse, Lovino grabbed Antonio by the wrist, pulled his arm towards him in a way that was almost violent, and quickly kissed the raised scar that ran down it. Right after, he dropped his arm and looked away as if it had never happened, a blush forming over his cheeks.

Despite the cold temperatures, the air around them seemed a good bit warmer than it had a moment ago. It was a long while before Antonio spoke even a single word. "Lovi…"

"You don't have to hide them," Lovino interrupted. He hoped and prayed that he had made himself useful by saying this, that he wasn't failing to communicate like always, and that Antonio felt even a little bit better than he did before. He hoped for this with every fiber of his being, because dammit, he was not about to let him be miserable about this all his life.

Antonio's lips twitched into a smile. "I think…" He put his hand under Lovino's chin, gently coaxing him to look up. "That I will wear short-sleeves to the parade."

It was that simple. Lovino spared his comments about how the idiot would freeze, or how cheesy it was to be looking at him like that, because that simple, everyday statement held so much meaning. In that moment, everything was in place and all of their problems seemed a million miles away. Life snapped back into regular time, and before Lovino could register it, he was being kissed.

This kiss was different, right down to the very roots. This was not like the times at the hospital, or the couple of minutes they had after each group meeting. Lovino somehow forgot to feel nervous or annoyed or flustered. He was too lost in the warmth of Antonio's skin, the gentleness of his touch, the warmth of his lips…he was lost in Antonio. Lovino almost broke away and asked him to take him inside, to live out that dream he had all those months ago, but then he realized something. They would get there eventually. For now, this was enough.

Lovino broke away, and decided that now was a better time than ever to take a risk. Things were going so right, maybe God would grant him one more wish. "Antonio, get your guitar." He watched Antonio's eyes light up, and realized this was not much of a risk at all. He finished speaking easily. "I want to hear you play."

Antonio beamed, kissed him briefly once again, and nodded before running into the house. Now that he was out of his sight, Lovino could not help but smile.

This reality was better than any dream.

To be continued...