#sheenawilde

Antonio… The young guard had always been kind to him. Barely older than the elder prince, he was actually assigned to young Feliciano, ten years his junior. But Antonio had always taken a shine for Lovino, though the latter had always strived to mask his mutual affection.

“Your Highness?” Antonio stood in the door, hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to fend off any potential traitors to the throne living under their high roof. “Lovino?”

“Does propriety not survive the end times, Antonio?” It was in equal parts a joke and a genuine question. He stared down at the crown in his lap, extravagant jewels shimmering in the light of a dim candle. He placed it precariously in the window and stood, turning to face Antonio. The most loyal of their guard and only sixteen years old, proudly bound to assuring the safety of a four-year-old princeling. Lovino would not trust anyone else with this task.

“My grandfather… He’s too old now to survive the well-earned rage against him, whatever he may say. Our people will turn now against their mutual enemy. I don’t know what it will bring but death. But I decide now how many must die.” He stepped forward, eyes hard. “My brother has not been publically announced to the kingdom as a prince. No one would recognize him if he were to ever leave the castle.”

Antonio listened intently, unsure of where this was going. “How do you expect he may escape? He is only a child.”

“You will take him. Behind the kitchen is a narrow tunnel, and that tunnel will lead you and Feliciano out the back of the castle and down to the woods. You will protect him better where no one will hunt you down.”

The idea was horrifying. Antonio had to overcome his nausea before answering. “But what will happen here? What will happen to you?”

Lovino straightened his back, preserving any air of royal authority and command. He was only fourteen years old, and short for his age. “I don’t know yet.”

“I must stay here and protect you!”

“You must go and protect the little princeling. You are his guard, and there is no way he may safely stay here.” He turned and looked out the window. The mob was encroaching. “There isn’t much time.”

Antonio relented and went to find the sleeping boy, but hesitated in the doorway. “Will I… ever see you again, Your Highness?”

Lovino didn’t yet know if he’d survive to morning, or any morning beyond that. He didn’t know if Antonio would ever be able to return, or if it would ever be safe again for a member of the royal family to come back to their home. Lovino was starting to doubt whether Antonio’s unwavering loyalty was devoted to his little brother, or to him.

“If this is the best answer I can give you, then go on the hope that you will.”

Antonio nodded and took a step forward, bowing before his prince. Lovino offered a hand.

“For my gratitude,” he assured.

Antonio kissed the hand. He left with the ghost of soft pressure on his lips, and the hope that it may return one day.

-

Antonio carried a mostly sleeping young prince through the dark and tangled woods for four days with little rest. It was improbable the wrath of the people would or could follow them through the dense forest, but the threat was always looming in the black canopy.

Feliciano started stirring on his back. “Antonio? Will we be there soon?”

Antonio honestly didn’t know where ‘there’ was yet. His feet had been moving forward at a steady pace, one mechanically after the other, while his mind was elsewhere. It wasn’t just the young prince who’d been forced from his home at the threat of violent protest. Antonio didn’t dare tell the child it was a near impossibility his grandfather had survived that night, unwilling to add another trauma onto the already hefty load placed on such a small and sheltered boy.

“Antonio?”

“We’ll be there soon,” he promised vaguely, and left Feliciano to imagine his own constraint for when ‘soon’ would be. Antonio knew it couldn’t be much longer until they came to a clearing in the woods, and he would try to make a shelter for them there.

Feliciano reached into his pocket and brought a biscuit to the guard’s mouth.

“I’m not hungry, Your Highness,” Antonio lied, “but thank you.” The child ate the bit of food instead.

When they did come to an opening in the timber labyrinth, they came upon a distant village of small farms and wooden huts. Antonio had never seen this place before, but knew that any one of these little homes might provide some food and lodgings in exchange for labor. He set Feliciano down to walk beside him, the child still dressed in his plain nightclothes and barefoot, a pitiful image of a young prince. Antonio went knocking on the first door as he sun broke over the trees.

“Who are you? What do you want?” asked the farmer, about to go into his fields.

“Please, good sir, we need a place to stay.”

The farmer looked between the sleepy and shivering child, and the strong youth whose hand he latched on to. “You can work?”

Antonio nodded eagerly.

“Bring the boy inside. I give you to the count of twenty to be back out here.”

“Thank you, sir.” Antonio led Feliciano inside, where the wife was making breakfast for her own children.

“Who’s this?” she asked calmly.

“I’m a new farmhand. This is.. Jack.”

She nodded. “Sit down, Jack. My boys will be down soon; you’ll help them with feeding.”

Antonio, knowing he was on a time crunch, set Feliciano down on the bench and huried back outside. The farmer had gotten to nineteen by the time he showed up.

“I’ll be working you to the bone, boy.”

Antonio nodded and thanked him, and followed the farmer out into the fields. The sunrise lit up the sky in bright pinks and oranges, and Antonio wondered if Lovino was seeing it too.

-

Antonio and Feliciano adopted into the Lesser family. Both from immigrant families, they easily accepted Antonio’s lie that he and the child were abandoned at the western shore and left to fend for themselves, and welcomed them into their home, most notably by Mrs. Lesser. The village was self-sustaining and isolated from the rest of the country. Antonio helped plow the fields and harvest crops, and made friends among fellow farmhands, while Feliciano fed pigs and cattle and chickens with the Lesser children in the morning and played with them in the afternoons.

It was easy enough for the four-year-old to adapt in those next ten years. Antonio never went a day without thinking about Lovino, and if the kingdom had gone to ruin.

On the morning of what Antonio knew to be Feliciano’s fifteenth birthday, the teen came to his bunk and shook him awake.

“Jack?” He’d had to take on the name he’d use to disguise the prince. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a nightmare.”

“About what?”

“About…” He went quiet to make sure the rest of the house couldn’t hear him. “About my family. About my brother and grandfather.”

Antonio sighed and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, feeling now very solemn.

“Do you think they’re okay?”

In all the years past, Antonio could not conjure a definitive answer. Without knowing what happened in the castle that night, he had no idea of whether there was any violent upheaval that may have killed the king and, deplorably, the adolescent crown prince. He remembered the fear in Lovino’s eyes even as he bravely announced that he would stay, while sending their proclaimed most loyal guard away, leaving himself all but defenseless against a community who may have well wanted him dead. Antonio’s heart broke for the thousandth time.

“I think Lovino may be…”

Feliciano nodded, leaning on his arms on the edge of the mattress. “Can we go there?”

“Where? To the city?”

He nodded. “If only for a day. I just want to know if he’s alright. And I know you do, too.”

Antonio couldn’t deny that. The next morning they arranged to travel to the city for ten days, and to return before the next harvest came in.

-

“Do you remember him, Antonio?” Feliciano asked as they cut through vines obstructing their path.

“Your brother?” He nodded. “I do. Very well, in fact.”

“How long did you two know each other?” Given their circumstances in hiding, the young prince couldn’t really ask any of these questions before, so he was taking every opportunity at learning about Antonio’s life as a royal guard as he could. He seemed especially fascinated by the closeness between the guard and the elder prince.

Antonio smiled. “My family arrived at the palace for service when I was just born. My father was a commanding general and confidant of the prince that married your mother, so we came along with him. My mother told me I was actually born at the border between the two nations, but I don’t know how true that is.”

Feliciano laughed softly. “And then what?”

“I don’t remember it well, because I was so young. But I met Lov– your brother the day he was born. But because I was only a toddler, I couldn’t be more than an occasional playmate. When you were born I was assigned to protect you, and things became more difficult when… when your parents died within a year of one another.”

Feliciano nodded, too young to have remembered either of them, but feeling the vague weight of their memory even if he couldn’t recall their faces or voices. “You were friends with Lovino.”

Antonio hummed quietly. “When we were small we’d often spend time together. Those were the happiest times…”

He trailed off as fragments of old memories played in his head, forming a more complete picture of Lovino as he’d once known him: the fiery and usually happy child he’d been before the burden of a prince truly came down on him. Antonio remembered trying harder and harder to get his friend to smile, to enjoy the most trivial things, and how wonderful it would be when a smile cracked on his tired face.

Antonio remembered wanting to kiss that smile.

“Did you love him?”

Antonio paused for a long moment. “I do.”

-

The air in the city was more peaceful than Antonio had ever known it. Merchants sold their wares, mothers dragged their children along the road, friends and acquaintances gathered at corners and in pubs. Everything was calm and happy.

But Antonio was still cautious of the circumstances that had caused such civil rest. His young charge by his side, watching his people he’d never known in fascination, Antonio climbed with some haste the hill leading up to the castle.

Feliciano looked upon the castle where he’d spent his early childhood, curious at how foreign it felt to him now.

“Why don’t we just ask someone what happened?” the adolescent asked.

“Because we don’t want to draw undue attention to it, and I don’t trust them with a straight answer.” He kept pulling the prince, a bit forcefully, to the gate.

The castle grounds were quiet, and isolated enough from the city that no one would notice the two strange figures at the gate. Antonio knew this meant either peace, or emptiness. He feared the latter more than he could’ve imagined.

“Hello in there!” he cried, and moved to get a different angle. “Hello! Your Highness!” But received no answer.

He shouted again. “Lovino!”

On another move around the fence, he saw it. In a familiar window sat a familiar and beloved form, a crown on his head. Lovino saw Antonio there at the gate, and a cry rose from his smiling lips. “Welcome home!”

First Sight

“It’s sad, isn’t it? His whole troop was killed in that attack, but he still asks about the same person every day.”

The nurse turned her sympathetic eyes back to Lovino, who gave a small sigh.

“The shit these bastards deal with is incredible. I’m just glad I joined the infirmary instead of enlisting as a soldier,” he sighed. “I never would have survived that, even if I didn’t get fucking shot.”

A lot of their patients were suffering from the effects of chemical warfare- a crime even in these lawless times. The infirmary in the Italian base was full of sick, wounded, and mentally disturbed people. It was more than Lovino thought he could handle sometimes, though he still couldn’t deny it was better than being out in the midst of the fighting himself. He didn’t want to end up like any of the patients he helped care for.

“What these people need is some love,” his colleague told him. She was used to Lovino’s foul mouth and was completely unfazed by it. “When the heart despairs, the body can lose its will to live, but I’ve seen people pull out of otherwise hopeless situations because they had someone who cared about them closeby…or they decided for themselves that they weren’t going to stop fighting.”

Lovino snorted. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell each one they’re beautiful and shouldn’t fucking die…Do I have this group for the next shift?”

“Yes, they’re all yours.”

“Alright, then. See you in the morning.”

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was an unusual patient. As a Spanish immigrant, his origin made him different from most of the men in the infirmary, but so did his attitude. Antonio was cheerful and friendly despite the fact that the war had left his body so terribly broken. His leg was in a cast and his arm and side were badly burnt. The rumor was that he had been trying to pull a comrade out of a tank before the armored vehicle had been destroyed, wounding Antonio and killing the man that he had been trying to save. The gas attack that had followed had robbed the fallen soldier of his sight for the time being, his eyes too sensitive to the light. If it bothered Antonio, however, he didn’t show it. He just sat there in his blindfold and smiled when Lovino announced his presence, lifting his arm helpfully to allow the Italian to change his bandages as if it was the highlight of his day. If Lovino had to be honest, he found it a little unnerving.

“How are you feeling today?” Lovino asked out of formality.

“Can’t complain,” Antonio chirped. “Better and better, just slowly…Could I ask you a favor, señor? Would you mind checking on Romano for me? He was in my troop, so I’m sure he’s here somewhere. I’d like to know how he’s doing.”

Lovino winced. This was exactly what he had been warned about.

“There is no Romano here,” he answered curtly. “Ah- look, I’m sorry. I’m sure they tell you this every day, but-”

“Romano is here,” Antonio insisted. “I know he is. But it’s okay. Maybe you just haven’t seen him yet. You’re new, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’ve been shown all the patients here. No one by that name’s been admitted, I can guarantee it.”

“I’ll just keep waiting, then,” Antonio decided with a careful nod. “He’s bound to show up soon.”

“Don’t count on it,” Lovino grumbled under his breath, but he carried on changing Antonio’s bandages and tending to his wounds without another word about it.

The next day, Antonio asked for Romano again. Lovino gave him the same answer and carried on with his duties as usual. His patient seemed disappointed, but he was not deterred, for the next day, the cycle repeated once more. Nursing the Spanish man became more of an annoyance for Lovino, and after a while, he stopped responding to Antonio’s questions out of fear that he would say something harsh that would get him in trouble with his superiors. His patient didn’t take the silent treatment well at all. The way his smile faltered sent a wave of guilt over his caretaker, though Lovino still refused to participate in the redundant conversation. Eventually, Antonio just stopped talking. The whole staff noticed the change, though no one blamed Lovino for it; instead, they took it as a sign that Antonio was finally coming to terms with reality. None of the other patients smiled as much as he had, after all.

Though Lovino thought he should be glad for the end of the pointless and frankly heartbreaking conversation, the sulleness that overcame his patient afterwards was almost worse. The fallen soldier barely ate now, and his morale suffered to the point where Antonio’s body was beginning to show the effects. Looking at his face, Lovino thought he looked almost ten years older. Though he shaved and groomed Antonio often, the man looked worn and lifeless; his skin paled, and his body was weaker- not healing fast enough for Lovino’s liking and growing increasingly thinner. He urged Antonio to eat, telling him with increasing aggression that the man needed to listen to him if he was going to recover. Antonio was unresponsive. The Spanish man’s condition didn’t improve, and if he heard anything Lovino was saying to him, he pretended that he didn’t.

Weeks passed. Lovino began to wonder if Antonio would do better under a different nurse, someone with more experience and a better bedside manner. The poor man looked like he would die if he didn’t regain his spirits soon. Sighing, the Italian sat down next to his patient’s bed, preparing to say goodbye to the soldier as he cared for him one last time.

“Antonio…” he started quietly, using a gentler tone than usual. With how still the man was lying, it was hard to tell whether or not he was asleep. At the sound of his name, however, the patient jolted slightly and turned his head towards the sound of his voice.

“R-romano?” he gasped.

Lovino sighed. He didn’t have the heart to correct him, not after how Antonio had taken the silent treatment during those first few days. Instead, the nurse reached out and placed his hand over the soldier’s sympathetically.

“I’m sorry…I know you’ve been through a lot of shit,” he told him. “But someone else is going to look after you now. Promise you’ll listen to them, alright? You have to eat so you can get better and go home. I…don’t want to see you die in a place like this, dammit.”

The man really did look terrible. His long brown locks were plastered to the side of his face in sweat. Lovino moved one of them away from Antonio’s eye bandages without even thinking much about it. Suddenly, his hand was seized by the blindfolded man and squeezed tightly between Antonio’s desperate fingers. Lovino tried to tug them away, but he was stopped by the pleading tone in his patient’s voice.

“Please don’t leave me, Romano,” he begged. “Stay here. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t disappear again….please?”  

Lovino opened his mouth to protest, but bit his tongue. His body shifted uncomfortably as a thought crossed his mind, a plan to help his patient get better. But was it really the right thing to do? The nurse hesitated a moment longer before answering.

“Alright,” he told Antonio, who smiled gratefully at him in a way that broke Lovino’s heart. “But you have to do exactly what I say, understand? No more skipping meals or moping about. I- I want to see you get better, alright? ‘Toni’?”

The familiarity of the attempted nickname only made Antonio grin wider. He used his hold on Lovino’s hand to reel the other man in closer to him, and soon the startled nurse found himself in a tight embrace. Lovino’s face flushed red, and he took a panicked glance around the infirmary, glad that no one else was on duty in his section and that the other patients seemed to be asleep.

“Thank you, Romano,” Antonio sniffed, his voice heavy with emotion. “I’m sorry, I just thought- thought I’d never see you again. I’m…so happy you’re here.”

He sniffled over Lovino’s shoulder, and the Italian groaned inwardly. This was a mistake, he knew it. It wasn’t fair to give his patient this much false hope, but if it brought back his will to live, then…wasn’t it for the best, anyway? Lovino rubbed Antonio’s back and hoped that he was making the right decision.

The act wasn’t an easy one to keep up. Lovino knew little of Antonio’s history with this “Romano,” and he wasn’t sure how he should act in order to keep his impersonation convincing. Antonio didn’t seem to mind what he said or did, however, as long as the nurse stayed close and talked with him. It was amazing how much the Italian was able to learn about his patient’s life from these little conversations. Antonio had been a farmer before moving to Italy, and he had continued growing tomatoes in his new home near Naples. He had been against the war from the start, thinking about moving back to Spain once the fighting had begun to intensify, but things had not been much better back there, and Antonio had wanted to stay. It was from the stories that came later that Lovino learned more about the comrade that his patient missed so much. Romano had been drafted, not a volunteer like Antonio. Despite his feelings about the war, the Spaniard had chosen to fight after learning the fate of other immigrants who had failed to prove their loyalty. A disease had destroyed his crop and without any other means of income, Antonio had felt he had no choice. Looking back, Antonio quietly admitted that he’d regretted his decision, thinking the price he had paid out on the battlefield hadn’t been worth anything else that could have happened to him in his own home.

“But if I hadn’t joined, then I wouldn’t have met you, Roma,” the man hummed with a small smile. “We saved each other’s hide more that once, hm?”

“Y-yeah,” Lovino answered back, feeling saddened by the other’s story. “I guess we did…”

“I know you didn’t want to fight,” Antonio told him. “But you were really brave. Calling people names and acting like you were in control, even when they had us surrounded. You gave me strength I don’t think I would have had otherwise.”

“You’re a tough bastard,” Lovino grunted, wishing his patient wouldn’t make him feel so choked up when he still had a day of work to get through. “I only got you to do what you already had in you. Now eat your fucking soup. It’s getting cold.”

Antonio ate everything that Lovino fed to him and began to put on weight. The color returned to his face, and the Spaniard smiled more- it was a relief for Lovino to see. Still, he knew the time would come when he would eventually have to tell Antonio the truth. He only hoped that by then, the man would be strong enough to take it…and never fall back to such a dangerous level of bad health again.

One night, when Lovino went to check on his patient, he was shocked to find the other man out of bed. Still blindfolded, Antonio had pulled himself up using the bed post and was now leaning by the window on his good foot, facing in the direction of the moonlit sky as if he could actually see something.

“A-antonio? What the hell are you doing?” Lovino snapped, rushing towards him.

Antonio jumped in surprise and nearly fell, but the nurse caught him just in time and grunted under his weight, doing his best to support him as he eased his patient back down towards the bed.

“I…I’m sorry,” the Spaniard stammered. “I just- couldn’t sleep.”

“You need to take care of yourself, dammit,” Lovino scolded, frowning at the cast on Antonio’s leg and the bandages that still covered much of his body. “You’re not ready to be walking around yet!”

“I know. I know, you’re right.” He still hadn’t let go of the Italian. Antonio clung to him like a lost child. Lovino sighed and rubbed the uninjured part of Antonio’s back gently. His patient rested his head on the nurse’s shoulder and sniffled quietly. “I thought- maybe things could go back to normal, but…I still can’t walk. When I dream, there’s always so much fighting. Have you ever woken up thinking something good happened, but then you’re depressed because you find out it didn’t really? Or when you wish something was real so hard that you almost believe it…I don’t want to live in my dreams anymore.”

“I…don’t get what you’re saying, dammit,” Lovino grumbled. “You’re awake now. You’re here. And nothing bad’s going to happen, alright? I’ll stay with you as long as you want, but don’t go climbing out of bed until you’re recovered. I don’t want to be scraping you off the floor because you tripped over your own fucking cast.” He didn’t expect Antonio to sit up and start laughing. “What the hell is so funny?”

“N-nothing, I just-” Antonio chuckled. “Thank you for worrying about me. You’re a good friend.”

“Alright, alright, just get some rest,” Lovino told him quickly, feeling embarrassed and a bit flustered. It took him another moment to pull his eyes away from the gentle smile on Antonio’s lips. He was glad to see the other looking more cheerful, but he wondered if it would only make things worse later. It was getting harder to imagine disappointing his patient. The man really deserved better than to be lied to. Still, another part of the Italian dreaded seeing the other’s crestfallen face when he learned there really was no Romano. He wouldn’t be surprised if his patient hated him after this was all over.

After that night, Lovino was even more attentive towards Antonio. He fed him, read to him, and talked as long as he was able to before he had to go look after another soldier. Even when the Italian was away, he was still thinking of him. He wasn’t really sure what it was about the Spaniard that absorbed so much of his attention, but Lovino wanted to make him happy, and Antonio always seemed happiest when the nurse was around.

Time passed, however, and other patients started to come and go. There was talk that Antonio would be discharged to complete his recovery at home once his eyesight returned to normal. Lovino couldn’t help but feel depressed at the idea of his patient leaving, alone and still unable to walk, pushing himself around in a wheelchair while he mourned for his lost comrade. The way Antonio cared for him almost made the nurse a little jealous of the real Romano- no one else had ever shown Lovino such devotion, and it felt like all the attention his patient was giving him was rather undeserved. Still, Lovino did his best to continue comforting the Spaniard, part of him wishing he could bring back the real Romano just to give Antonio a bit of hope that his future would be better. It was already bad enough the man had to carry the physical and emotional scars of war.

Then, one day, Antonio asked Lovino to take him outside for some fresh air. He had been stuck in his bed and the infirmary floor since he had arrived and wanted so badly to be outdoors again, away from the stale atmosphere of the sick room. Lovino got permission from his superior and complied, pushing Antonio out in a wheelchair with a blanket around his legs to keep warm.  The Spaniard sighed happily and lifted his head to feel the wind against his face.

“It feels so good to be out here again. Thank you…”

“You don’t have to thank me, Toni. It’s about time you got out of that damn building…How are you feeling?”

“Better now. I think…I think I’m ready.”

“‘Ready’?” Lovino repeated, frowning at his patient and raising an eyebrow. “For what?”

Antonio didn’t answer; instead, he reached up and began peeling the bandages away from his eyes. Lovino felt his heart stop for a moment, and he fidgeted nervously, not feeling prepared for this at all. He hadn’t expected his patient to have his first look at him right now, in this place. Lovino hadn’t even had time to explain anything to him.  

“An-tonio…wait!”

The Spaniard stopped for a moment and turned his head towards the sound of Lovino’s voice, the bandages loosened but not quite off his eyes yet.

“Hmm? What is it?”

“You can’t- I mean…” Lovino swallowed thickly and knelt next to Antonio, touching where the bandages covered on the side of his head gently. “Listen…I don’t want to disappoint you, but- I’m not-” He sighed deeply. “-I’m not who you think I am.”

Antonio’s mouth remained a tight line. He didn’t respond right away, and even without seeing his eyes, Lovino felt as if the other man was staring right through him. It was unsettling and made the Italian feel even more guilty than he already did. When it seemed Antonio had had a moment to process his words, Lovino continued, dropping his hand down to his patient’s lap and squeezing the man’s hand in reassurance.

“When you were brought into the infirmary, you were the only one from your troop that was rescued. The others didn’t make it out of their tanks. Do you remember?”

Antonio gave a slow, hesitant nod. Lovino could tell that he was doing his best to take in everything he was saying to him, though with the way Antonio’s lips fell into a frown, it was evident that the Spaniard wasn’t liking what he heard. “I wish…I could forget it,” Antonio replied quietly, giving Lovino’s fingers a squeeze. His nurse averted his eyes and held his patient’s hand tightly.

“When you came here, you always looked so damn happy. I thought it was because you believed that guy, Romano, was coming back. So when you called me that, I thought maybe- I’d let you believe what you wanted. Just because it might help you to get better faster. I…I didn’t want to see you get any worse,” Lovino confessed. “I’m sorry, Toni. He’s not coming back.”

He expected the man to be sad or angry- maybe yell at him or even start crying, asking him why he had gone to the trouble of impersonating someone he cared so much about. As it was however, Antonio didn’t show any sign of distress or disappointment at all. Instead, he used his hold on Lovino to pull the other closer, and then, the Spaniard wrapped his arms around him.

“I know…I knew from the start, actually,” Antonio admitted. “The way he died…no one could have come back from that. I just- didn’t want to believe that he was really gone.” The soldier sniffled over Lovino’s shoulder, and the nurse returned his embrace, patting the man on the back very gently. “I thought maybe if I kept asking about him, maybe somehow it would be less real,” he continued. “You were the first one who really tried to make me feel better about it, and…I appreciated that so much. Thanks, nurse. I know you’re not Romano, but I still felt like you were- my friend.”

Lovino was glad Antonio’s eyes were still covered so he couldn’t see the effect his words had on him. When the other man pulled away, the Italian rubbed at his eyes hastily and straightened himself back up onto his feet before reaching for the bandages that covered Antonio’s eyes.

“If we’re friends, you better stop calling me ‘nurse,’ dammit,” he told him, peeling the bandage away. “My name’s Lovino.”

He sucked in a breath when he finally saw Antonio’s eyes. The rest of the soldier looked as broken and worn as a man who had been blinded and bedridden for weeks should, but those irises were still so vibrant and full of life. They looked up at the Italian with kindness and curiosity, then curved with the rest of his face as the Spaniard smiled at him.

“Lovino…My imagination wasn’t kind enough to you.”

“What?”

“What I mean is- you’re more handsome than I pictured.”

Lovino blushed and shoved him back gently, rolling Antonio away from him, but careful not to actually hurt his patient.

“Stop before I put this back on you,” he told the other, laying the bandage on Antonio’s lap. “Just because I’m the first thing you see…”

“At least I know my eyes are working well again,” Antonio answered, still smiling up at him. Lovino couldn’t help but feel relieved that the man looked so cheerful. He hadn’t expected this to go nearly so well. It was hard to get rid of the warmth on his cheeks, however, or to look away from the green-eyed Spaniard, and Lovino found himself stepping closer to his patient subconsciously.

“Yeah, well…There’s more for you to look at than just me,” Lovino murmured embarrassedly. “Come on, I’ll take you around the gardens.”

As he pushed his patient along, Antonio continued to talk to him, and at once, Lovino felt that they had fallen back into their usual rhythm of conversation. The only difference was that Antonio would occasionally look back at him or comment on something they passed by. A satisfied warmth bubbled in Lovino’s chest at being able to see his patient like this- active, alert…happy. At the same time, he felt a little depressed. The return of Antonio’s sight meant one other thing: soon the Spaniard would be leaving the infirmary.

They were almost back inside the building when Antonio turned his head and looked up at him with that same glowing smile. Lovino stopped pushing him for a moment, reluctant to go back into the infirmary and end the little time they had alone together.

“Thank you again, Lovino,” the Spaniard told him. “For everything. I…was in such a bad place. I was lucky to have someone like you looking out for me.”

“I didn’t do much,” the Italian answered, averting his eyes. “You got better mostly on your own, once you wanted to.”

“True,” Antonio admitted, “but you’re the one who made me want to.”

There was silence between them for a moment before Antonio reached back to give the hand pushing his wheelchair a squeeze.

“When I’m fully recovered, I hope I can come back…and help you take care of others like you took care of me. I want to work next to you. I want to get to know you better.”

Lovino almost didn’t feel as if this was real. He knew he liked Antonio a lot- more than he probably should, given their positions- but he had never imagined the soldier liking him back. Now Antonio sounded as if he really wanted to stay by him. It was his own choice, something he had decided even though he had no obligation. If it worked out, Lovino would still be able to see him as much as he liked.

“You might change your mind,” the Italian answered. “You’ll have your freedom soon. I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck here again once you can walk. Not that…it’d be bad to see you again. I mean-! If you wanted to come back…”

Antonio nodded, his lips pulling up further into a grin. “I do,” he insisted. “After all- it was love at first sight.”

“You idiot,” Lovino huffed as he pushed Antonio back into the infirmary, but even as he walked, he couldn’t help but notice the fluttering in his stomach that hadn’t quite left him since the first time Antonio had really looked at him. He could get used to being seen like this.

All

It all started out so simply… Antonio just crawled into his bed one night and curled up to him, not saying a word. Lovino might have freaked out a little more if Toni had actually looked to be in a good mood, or if he had been trying to excuse himself for suddenly invading the Italian’s space, but there had been such a somber look to his face, Lovino couldn’t say no. Well, he had, but it had been more of a “I’m Lovino and I’m going to say no to everything” rather than an actual no…

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, face to face with the Spaniard. There were only so many inches separating them, and Lovino heated up at the thought. Who the hell was Antonio to come barge into his world like this, all smiles and laughter and happy guitar playing by day and then sultry and serious once the sun set. It was like the star was his battery, and after its light went out, he went out with it, all the weight of his little world to fall back on his shoulders. So, more than likely, Antonio wasn’t okay.

“I’m fine, Lovi… I just wanted to come hug you,” he said softly, pulling the Italian close again. It felt more desperate than it should have, though, not full of the love and care Lovino would have liked to see from his- the Spaniard.

“That’s a lie,” he mumbled, shakily bringing his fingers up to run through brunet curls. His shows of affection were rare, and Antonio always seemed to be happier whenever he was nice to him. It didn’t seem to be working tonight, however. Antonio still remained stoic as he pulled away, though the beginnings of a smile did quirk at his lips.

“I guess you’re right…” Toni’s voice was hushed, not only for a need of secrecy but just from his cheerless expression. Lovino wished they didn’t have to whisper like this- that they could talk loudly and openly and not have a care in the world, but it wasn’t like a homeless shelter could really offer that sort of privacy. He and Antonio just happened to share a room, and while the idea had been terrible at first, Lovino had come to accept it now.

“Well if I’m right, tell me what the hell is wrong with you,” he said with a grumpy expression, pushing at the Spaniard. No more hugs if he was going to be withholding information.

“I… I don’t think… so you remember my brother?” He asked quietly.

“You mean the guy who looks like you except his hair is really long and he’s more of an asshole?” Lovino asked, a bit of a flat expression on his face. It wasn’t like he didn’t like the elder brother, he just didn’t know him too well, “I thought he was out of this place. Didn’t he get some apartment on the south end?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just… you know I was gonna go live with him after he had some time under his belt at his job, and got approved to be my guardian, but now… well, something happened,” he went quiet, looking away from the Italian.

“Something like what?” He asked with a frown, “Is he okay? Are they just not letting you leave?” Antonio was still only sixteen, which meant he had another two years in this boring, hellish place- as if the four he had spent in here after his mother passed away hadn’t already been bad enough. Lovino was almost in the same boat, just a year younger than the Spaniard, but… he had run away more than been left homeless by circumstance, and after all this time his ‘family’ had decided not to take him back. Fuck them too, if he may add.

“He was stabbed,” Toni mumbled, “I don’t know why he was involved, but it was by some gang members in the neighborhood, and now everyone thinks he’s in a rival gang or something, so they won’t let me live with him…”

Lovino was silent, listening to Antonio speak as the blood drained from his face. Stabbed? By a gang? That… no, hell no, that wasn’t even fair! “They can’t do that!” He argued, raising his voice, “they can’t just keep you from your brother for-”

Suddenly Antonio’s lips were on Lovino’s and the Italian’s loud protests quickly died.

What? When had that even become a good thing? When had it become an okay thing? Lovino didn’t hate Antonio, no, not like he had when they first met and he couldn’t get away from all that dear cheeriness, but this wasn’t anything they had ever talked about. Not like they had talked about a relationship in the first place. It was kind of a scary thing to thing of, something that could be concrete one moment and dust in the wind the next, especially when they were staying in the same room like this…

Lovino found himself not caring. He didn’t care if it was okay, or if it was right, or if it was what he should be doing to calm Antonio’s racing heart, he just kissed back and pulled the other close. They kissed themselves breathless, and then some more, hands wandering and pressing as close as they could with layers of fabric between the two of them. They kissed until Antonio was feeling calm enough to sleep, and then Lovino pressed soft and gentle kisses to his face as he slept, a warm smile showing on his face.

It really had started innocently enough…

But then Antonio had come back the next night, and he did the same thing. Well, not the exact same thing, since they didn’t talk about his damn brother this time, but the feeling was there. The sad, sobering reminder that Antonio wasn’t always so perfect and cheerful as he seemed during the waking hours of the day, and each night when he gripped Lovino so tightly, as if he feared he’d slip away as they slept. He came back night after night, stealing kisses away from Lovino after the lights were out.

Really, Lovino didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop- not like he wanted him to anyway. He was enjoying these nightly visits, even if they never seemed to mention it the next morning. It was just so sweet, so blissful that Lovino didn’t ever want it to end. There was just one small problem… They had stopped talking all together.

Lovino wasn’t sure if it was himself or Antonio who stopped saying hello in the morning, or making idle chats over nasty government lunches, but slowly the conversations ceased. Lovino didn’t know if it was hurting Antonio as much as it hurt him, but the lack of contact was stifling. And yet, every night, he’d give in to his and Antonio’s desires, and they’d touch and kiss and just hold each other like they could ride through this storm together.

What did this make them? Were they lovers? Boyfriends? Friends with Benefits? Lovino didn’t know, and thinking about it made his head swirl. He had to make this stop- or at least had to understand what was happening. Did Antonio like him, or did he just like his body? Maybe he had hated him all along, and this was just his way of torturing Lovino’s poor soul. Maybe his brother was fine at home and Toni had invented that story to get into his pants. Lovino wouldn’t know until he asked, and he couldn’t ask until they stopped kissing.

“Bastard,” he murmured softly, arms still wrapped around Antonio though he ached to push him away, “Antonio, I…” he mustered the strength it took to move and let go, shifting so he could see the brunet face-to-face, “We need to talk…”

“About what Lovi?” He asked, a tired rumble really. There had been no kisses today, just constricting hugs and gentle pets to try and soothe the weary beast.

“Are you really that dumb?” Lovino hissed, wishing for a moment he could just hit Toni and be done with it, “Did you really think everything was fine?”

“What? No, I… I didn’t know what you wanted to talk about… We haven’t really been saying much recently…”

“That’s what!” Lovino responded quickly, before his resolve could shrivel up and die under Antonio’s bottle green gaze, “we haven’t been speaking. You’re acting like a nervous, cheating spouse and it’s driving me fucking insane!”

Toni was quiet for a breath, and then another as his sleepy mind was jogged awake by Lovino’s almost-yelling.

“Nervous? I’ve not been acting nervous-”

“You’re a terrible fucking liar, Antonio, just tell me what’s wrong!” Lovino growled back.

“Nothing- I just… I didn’t want to say anything,” he mumbled, trying to hug the Italian. Lovino wouldn’t have it, though, and he pushed Antonio back again.

“No, you can’t just hug and kiss me and expect everything to just be fine! Whatever relationship we’re in, it’s a shitty one!” Lovino put some extra distance between them, sitting up and leaning against the wall behind his bed, “now fucking talk! Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Lovi, please keep your voice down,” Antonio said softly, “You’re gonna get us caught…”

“Yeah right,” he said, shaking his head, “Go sit on your bed if you’re so worried…” Regardless, his loud and harsh tone had dropped back down to a whisper, and Lovino drew his knees to his chest, “Just… I wanna know what’s going on…”

Antonio looked as if he was pondering telling the Italian, wondering what would come of it if he told the truth or if he just tried to find a way to lie out of it. Lovino always seemed to know of his lies, though…

“I was kinda scared,” he finally admitted, looking away from the Italian, “I thought if we talked about the kissing, you’d get upset and stop wanting to do it. And then we just started to talk about less and less, and I thought you were mad at me about something…”

“So you kept sneaking into my bed to kiss all over me? How does that make any sense?”

“I don’t know, it just did!” He blushed. Lovino took a moment to savor that: Antonio with a bright and rosy hue to his cheeks. Even through the darkness he could see the way they made his face change. There was no longer some hardened boy trying to block out the world, just a nervous little kid, hoping he wouldn’t be rejected.

“It just made sense to keep coming to you, Lovi. We didn’t talk, so I wondered if maybe it was just a dream and I was just imagining you loving me like this, but obviously it wasn’t! Or… at least it wasn’t a dream,” Toni quieted back down after his small outburst, sitting up now and fiddling with the hem of his old shirt, “I don’t know about the you loving me part…”

Lovino let him sit and wonder a few moments more before sighing, his hand running through his hair, “You idiot… I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t have just run away… I was obviously okay with it, so why the hell would you even think I’d run off? Not after getting someone like you…”

Toni’s eyes, looking nearly black in the shadows of the room, were shining with a child-like excitement. He looked so happy he could shout, and before that happened Lovino pressed a finger to his lips.

“Toni,” he said softly, leaning forward, “Don’t you ever, ever think I would just abandon you. And don’t you ever compare me to a stupid dream either! I’m the real fucking deal, okay? But if you think I’m just going to let this half-assed relationship continue because I’m too selfish to let you go, you’ve got another thing coming!”

Antonio’s eyes pouted when his mouth couldn’t, and he whined softly. Lovino simply rolled his eyes, pulling the other close and pressing a kiss to his lips, “It’s all or nothing, Antonio. Take me or leave me, but you can’t just string me on like this.”