(Untitled)
WHO: Toni and Lovi
WHEN: Friday Morning, November 13th
WHERE: The Apartment
WHAT: Toni find out that Lovi's been involved with the mafia and feels betrayed for not being told about this sooner.
RATING: Ummmm.....I have no clue XD Nothing too bad just an angry Toni
( this is going to be interesting )
WHEN: Friday Morning, November 13th
WHERE: The Apartment
WHAT: Toni find out that Lovi's been involved with the mafia and feels betrayed for not being told about this sooner.
RATING: Ummmm.....I have no clue XD Nothing too bad just an angry Toni
( this is going to be interesting )
Romano was speechless. For someone to know what he was dealing with...and still want to protect him from it..
He didn't understand this kind of devotion. He didn't understand why Antonio was so determined to be involved, when even his own parents had lost faith in him.
What he did understand, was that the only person who'd ever really cared was now walking out the door. And when that door closed behind him to leaving Romano standing shell-shocked in the middle of the apartment, that was when he knew that he was really, truly alone in this.
"Fuuuuck." Falling to his knees he pulled at his hair, staring distraught and broken at the front door as if waiting for it to open again, and for Antonio to come running back in apologising and begging for forgiveness.
The door didn't move.
Dazed, his attention drifted to the sofa, blankly staring at the coat that had been thrown over it's back. The retard had gone out without it and, as Romano crawled over to pick it up, he found that the keys were still inside too.
"Fucking retarded.." He sniffed, taking it to the door and quite forcefully throwing it outside. If Antonio got sick he'd never hear the end of it, and dealing with this current issue was irritating enough.
That is...if Antonio even let him in the apartment anymore..
For a moment Romano simply stood, staring down the corridor in a trance-like state, before going back inside to get his own coat.
What he did need was to get the hell out of there, at least for a while.
Leaving a note, "Don't look for me," on the kitchen table he opted to take the elevator to the basement floor and detour out onto the street. The damn Spaniard would no doubt take the stairs, but Romano intended to take every step to avoid him.
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He headed to the stairs and with a determined stride headed for the back alleys, half hoping that someone would pick a fight with him.
~:~:~:~:~:~:~Fancy Time Skip >3~:~:~:~:~:~:~
Antonio headed into the elevator solemnly, his head down and his arms crossed over his chest sadly. He felt horrible for pinning Romano to the wall. As the doors shut he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to keep from loosing control. As the doors opened he had to work up the energy to leave the small space.
This was not going to be easy.
The spaniard headed to the apartment, pulling out his keys and opening the door as quietly as he could. Once inside he flipped on the lights and looked around.
"Lovi?" He called out gently, half of him knowing that he wasn't ready to talk to Romano but that he had too. When he got no reply however, his brow furrowed lightly. That was when he found the note.
"qué he hecho?" He sighed gently to himself, collapsing onto the couch and curling up into a tight ball. The spanish man grabbed the remote and flipped on the tv, not even bothering to keep himself from crying anymore.
(Spanish: What have I done?)
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Having managed to successfully avoid the Spaniard, Romano had done the only thing he could do. Taken a bottle of wine from the Pizzeria storage and found himself a hostel room. He'd always criticized his brother for drowning sorrows in alcohol, but with no one to turn to and no where to go he had few other options.
***Insert time skip here ***
A part of him considered going back to Italy, and wondered if Liberty would change at all in his absence. The pessimisstic realisation that it wouldn't prompted him to take another swig from the wine bottle and attempt to change his thought pattern.
He wasn't wanted at the apartment, he certainly didn't want to see his brother and the damn Germans, and everyone else...well...who else would tolerate him?
Maybe it would be better to just join the mafia, he thought with another drink, at least then my whole fucking life wouldn't have been wasted.
Once again he found himself hating his family for involving and sacrificing him, hating the town for being so fucking ignorant and cheerful, and hating Antonio...for abandoning him.
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Without another moments hesitation he slipped on his tennis shoes and coat and locked the door behind him.
As soon as he was outside, he looked each way on the street before heading into the city. He wasn't planning on stopping until he found the Italian and made him come back so at least Toni would know he was safe. Even if he was pissed. After about an hour of searching he finally caught sight of someone who looked like his Italian.
"Lovi! Lo siento. If thats you, please answer me!" He called out, putting his hands to his mouth. He honestly didn't even care about the fact that anyone could tell that he had been crying. All that mattered was finding Romano.
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Dammit this is what he gets for deciding to leave the hostel. Romano squinted, someone was calling for him but it was way too early and he was way too drunk to distinguish someone so far off.
Lovi..Lo Siento... Well that sounded damn familiar..he stumbled forward, squinting again. Antonio...the damn Spaniard had come back!
Hesitantly, Romano made his way towards the figure. Mad, posessed Antonio was gone, yet it was nigh impossible that the Spaniard had simply forgotten of the day's trials. Could he have forgiven him that quickly? Romano wasn't even sure if he forgave himself.
"Antonio..." he murmured, pausing to shake off a growing migraine and wishing that he'd either stayed in the hostel or not drunk at all.
If Antonio had come to find him, did that mean he was willing to accept the mafia connection? No..he didn't want that. 23 years of experience made Romano sure he didn't want that.
He stopped defiantly, frowning and dropping his shoulder. "Go home."
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"Not without you" He said, looking into the shorter man's eyes and trying to apologize that way instead. At least for now. He knew that Romano would never forgive him if he made a big scene here.
"Please. Just come back with me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hurt you" He said quietly, looking down and breaking eye contact. He crossed his arms over his chest before finally looking up again slowly.
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Romano swallowed, trying to fight back the tears. Dammit alcohol was a bad idea. Part of him wanted to cling to the Spaniard and apologise and just go home where it was warm and there weren't potentially lice-infested beds. The other half of him was still defiantly intent on not letting Antonio get involved.
Antonio was back, his Antonio was back, and as the tears began to fall Romano knew he wouldn't be able to hold his stance for much longer.
Reaching up to rub at his eyes in an clearly inebriated manner Romano made a feeble attempt to stop crying. "T-This isn't a game, bastard. You're going to get hurt."
He'd already seen what it could do not only on a first-hand basis, but to Feliciano as well. If preventable, Antonio shouldn't have to go through the same thing.
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"Te amo, Lovi" He said in a serious tone. He didn't know if the italian would know what he meant but then again their native tongues weren't that far apart that he was sure Romano could guess.
"I know this isn't a game and if you think that I'm going to let anyone hurt you than your wrong" He said, pulling back slightly so that he could look down at the Italian once more. He let out a shaky breath and looked up at the sky slowly, blinking back his own tears. He felt like an idiot and a jerk for what he did earlier. But he did have a good reason. After all, his best friend and love interest was involved with the mafia and hadn't even hinted at it.
"lets talk at home. Its too cold out here" Antonio said and offered a half smile, slipping his hand into Romano's free one and taking the bottle away gently with the other.
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Romano let the other embrace him, standing almost lifelessly with his head against the Spaniard's chest. Drinking aside, he was tired and cold and weak from crying, and simply content knowing that somehow, in some twist of fate, he hadn't quite lost everything yet.
Antonio exhaled and Romano felt his chest tremble, looking up to see for the first time that he hadn't been the only one crying. A slight tinge of guilt; angering and upsetting Antonio was no small feat, and he knew it had been entirely his fault. However whatever anger had possessed his friend earlier was long gone, and he knew it was safe to return to the apartment.
As the Spaniard's hand slipped into his own, Romano took it and squeezed it tightly, as if reassuring himself that he wouldn't be left alone again.
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"Dang Lovi! You downed a whole bottle?" He asked, teasing lightly and trying to raise the others spirits even if it was ever so slightly.
"I'm impressed" He said, sticking his tongue out playfully. Anyone who didn't know the spanish man would probably get motion sick from the roller coaster of emotions Antonio went through in one day. Though, to be fair his highs and lows weren't as extreme as they had been in the last few hours.
Antonio returned the gesture Romano had early, squeezing his hand. He had the same intention as Lovi, making sure that he knew no matter how angry or how much he teased him, he would never leave the Italian to face the world on his own.
He was far to attached for that.
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Lovi followed him at a slow shuffling pace, which probably confirmed Antonio's remark more than anything else would. To anyone on the street he probably looked like an upset child who's just thrown a tantrum, being pulled along home by their Mother Father.
He had a headache and the world was spinning, but he knew that as long as he kept a tight hold on Antonio's hand he'd be able to make it home okay. And to bed- sleep was definitely wanted right now.
"It tasted shit anyway.."
There was no point arguing anymore, the Spaniard had made it quite clear that they were stuck together, no matter what and for god knows what reason.
Romano knew his friend couldn't bounce back to being cheerful that quickly, but for now decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He really couldn't be bothered considering it any further than that.
Rubbing his eye to clear it of sleep Romano winced as the headache reminded him of it's existence. "Fuck I'm tired..'
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Without hesitation, he turned to his friend and pulled his hand away gently but kept close so Romano wouldn't think he was leaving. Then he promptly scooped the Italian up into his arms and carrying him bridal style.
"Now before you complain or protest. Just think about it" Antonio said quickly, knowing that even completely smashed Romano was likely to complain and struggle.
"If I carry you, you'll get home sooner and be able to go to sleep" He said with a smile, looking gently at the male in his arms. His smile was actually a true one for once, he honestly felt at ease for the first time since he'd gotten up this morning.
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Like a frightened animal Romano began to sqiurm as soon as his feet left the ground, preparing a 'What the fuck are you doing' (in less coherent words of course) when Antonio quickly interjected.
Antonio's geniune smile was met with a half-hearted glare, as Romano's body found little reason to stay awake anymore. The concept of being carried home in the Spaniard's arms, or of anyone seeing them meant nothing to him now. He was much too tired and without having the necessity of staying awake to walk, his eyes quickly fell closed.
And for once, whether it was because of the alcohol or the burden that had been taken off his chest that day, he actually looked perfectly at peace with himself. Anything else could wait until the morning.
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