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I swear I don't
Miss you at all
And I barely still remember
Who's in the pictures on my wall
Antonio slugged down his hallway, the house empty and large. The lights dim or broken, no one had cared to fix them. On his light brown walls hung his memories, ones he has pushed back so far. The eyes of the people he's pushed away followed him down the long, never ending hallway. Antonio wanted to rip them to shreds, but he couldn't even bring himself to bring one down. He couldn't even look to see if their eyes truly followed him. He pushed the prying eyes farther back into his memories.
'Cause, no, I can't
Recall your sent
Jasmine tuberose and lily
Or your silly Italian accent
The flowers he used to adore wilted on his kitchen counter. He wished for them to stay, not to leave and die. The Spaniard could only smell the rot that the flowers brought, they covered the lingering smell of his once beloved. Nowadays, Antonio couldn't remember his smell, the smell of his Italian. He told himself he'd no longer dig and search for the memories he made, he would no longer dwell on the past. Antonio would no longer dwell on the forgotten sound of Lovino's voice.
All But forgotten
About those eyes
the shade of green that if he'd seen would make F. Scott Fitzgerald cry
Shades of green stayed in his house, mocking him and laughing. The olive green that could not be matched with any color but themselves could be seen staring at Antonio, laughing at him. His own mind was playing tricks, trying to pull back the old, wonderful, memories of the past. He rushed his way out of his kitchen,
"FUCK!" Antonio grabbed a vase, raising it, and smashing to the floor.
He breathed in and out, deep and shallow. His whole body shuddered, letting out a choking noise. The vases pieces were scattered on the white rug, sticking on end. Antonio sobbed as he fell to his knees, ignoring the pain the glass brought to his kneecaps.
"Please... I want you back."
But i won't
Break down at two A.M. and call
'Cause i don't miss you at all
His knee's still burned as he shuffled into bed, though they were wrapped and treated (but the shards weren’t taken care of). Antonio faced the clock, staring at the glowing, green numbers. His phone beside it, screaming at him. All he wanted was to text Lovino, tell him that he loved and him and say goodnight. He wanted to do that again.
Reaching out for his phone, he opened it and looked through his missed calls. Antonio's own friends contacts filled the bright screen. It seemed to be hundreds as he scrolled. But, none of them had Lovino's name. There was no missed call(s) asking for Antonio back, no apologies.
He sat up, thumb hovering just above the call button. Antonio stared, wondering if the call would even be answered. Slowly, he pressed the button and pressed the phone to his ear.
The sound of beeping filled his senses, the sound rolling on and on. The brunette sat for what felt like hours, but it was only a few seconds. The ringing abruptly stopped, the voice mail tone beeped and started. Antonio froze as the voice mail voice spoke to him,
"If I don't Fucking answer, I wont fucking answer," It was Lovino's voice.
Antonio used to call and hear that tone, he wouldn't listen and call again. And always on the second call, Lovino would answer. But this time, Antonio listened and put the phone down, not daring to call again.
And I'm sleepin' fine
I don't mean to boast
But I only dream about you Once or twice a night at most.
The ceiling was dark, the smooth concrete gave him no entertainment. The man wanted to feel the smaller body of his ex curled up right next to him. He wanted to feel the warmth radiating from another body. Antonio was lulled to sleep, the lack of another person dug a restless sleep for the night.
A warm hand enclosed with his own, the hand tight but gentle. The stars twinkled with delight, brightening up his own face. Turning to look at the person who held his hand, a curl and reddish, brown hair first met Antonio’s eyes.
Lovino.
Antonio’s heart swelled, leaning into the body that sat next to his. It felt so real, maybe it was real. He smiled, raising his hand to run through the hair that he missed so much.
A soft smile could be seen on Lovino’s facial features, warm and familiar. The Italian leaned in, his body weight resting on Antonio.
It all happened to fast, the warm skin turned ice cold. The hand that held his was going limp, the fingers blue. Antonio gasped, leaning back to get a better look at his lover.
Lovino’s eyes dull and sorrowful, his skin blue and purple. A sorry smile printed onto his skin, weak and unconvincing. He waved, gentle and slow. The man Antonio once loved turned cold, his skin flaking like snow. Soon, he watched Lovino fall apart into a pile of snow. Antonio’s heart cold and unfeeling, his face the same; a small smile.
Antonio filed through the pile of snow, picking out a solid piece of ice. It was shaped like a human heart, dripping and melting.
Lovino did always say his heart was made out of ice...
His eyes snapped open, mouth agar, gasping for breath. The dark, sullen room welcomed Antonio back to the real world, reminding him that it was all just a dream.
And it feels so good
Eating alone
The morning sun blinded Antonio as he opened his blinds, waking him for a new, horrible day without Lovino. His knees ached, his stomach screamed in hunger.
God was unforgiving and gave no mercy to the man as he limped down the hallway. The photos didn’t stare, their eyes adverted as he slugged down the hallway like he did everyday.
He breathed in, smelling the air, trying to tell if breakfast was made.
Antonio froze.
He knew he was being stupid, he knew that there would be no breakfast. Even though he did this every time, every time he was about to eat a meal. His life felt empty, nothing was holding him together.
No one stood by the stove, no snotty remark thrown his way, no laughter from his friends. Gilbert and Francis started to leave him alone after a month, saying that they wanted to give him some space.
Antonio sighed as he sat down at the dinner table, his face in his hands. Even though his stomach begged and begged for even a morsel of food, he felt no need to get up and find something to eat.
The table felt so empty, he had no one at his side...
I don't get distracted by your smile
And miss the green lights drivin' home
No sign of stoppin'
Before his heart was crushed into pieces, he had memorized the structure, curves, and every other aspect of Lovino’s face. Antonio could just see the face like it was right in front of him.
When he drove, he wanted to feel a hand in his own or the sound of someone singing along to the radio.
He missed green lights often, he could no longer hear the sweet voice he was so used to, but only the honking of agitated drivers.
The house isn't far
But I think our song is comin' on
And now I wanna crash the car
It always took sometime for Antonio to finally press on the gas to move the car on a green light. His nights always got worse, he always played the same radio even though he shouldn’t. And every time, the song he and Lovino used to love so much would always play. The soft start- then turning to a ghastly boom of music.
Antonio loved signing With Lovino whenever they drove together. The song was always a must in their book. But now, with no Lovino, Antonio felt like shit. The song mocked and sang directly into his heart. The sickeningly familiar lyrics cursed at him, haunting and gutting his heart out of his chest.
He could take a turn right now and hit a tree...
But I won't
Make that mistake again and fall
He knew that was too selfish.
So I say I don't,
Miss you at all
But, Antonio held his head higher, trying to fake his happiness. Maybe the next day would be better. Just maybe.
Maybe he won’t miss Lovino if he went to bed, maybe he’s get a call from Lovino in the morning.
Antonio Parked his car, rushing to get back inside his house. No playful punch or a hug was there to greet the Spaniard, nothing to welcome him home. The glass from the vase was still on the rug, reminding him of the sharp pain in his knees.
He should take the glass out this time and then clean them again.
A long ring buzzed from his pocket, his phone screamed at the man. Antonio eagerly swiped he phone from his pocket, wanting to know if Lovino was calling him.
The ID caller wasn’t Lovino, but it was Gilbert. Disappointed, he answered the call.
”Toni! I’m so glad you’ve answered!” Gilbert’s recognizable laugh filled Antonio’s ears.
”Oh, Hello Gilbert!” He tried to add some chirp to his voice.
”How are you? Lovino has been really upset lately... I don’t think he’s completely over this yet,” Gilbert seemed to sigh, air was puffed into the speaker for Antonio to hear.
”I hope he’s ok, if he needs anything he can call me!” Antonio rocked back and forth on his toes.
”Maybe! But.. I don’t think he’s in the mood for that anytime soon.”
”Alright, I’m always open...” Antonio sighed.
”Hey, dude, are you really okay?” Gilbert’s normally loud voice lowered, soft and almost silent.
”Of course I am! It’s strange of course, but everything is fine!” The words he spoke tasted like bile, it was disgusting and Antonio couldn’t believe that he was lying to Gilbert.
”I’m glad,” Antonio could hear the smile in Gilbert’s voice, “Now I gotta go, Lovi’s getting buggy.”
”Y-yeah, bye Gilbert.”
”Bye Toni!”
The went dead. His arm limp, his phone shattered as it hit the floor. The glass blended in with the vase, just as sharp. It hurt, it hurt knowing that Lovino was with his best friend.
Maybe this was the best, maybe the best for both of them...
And someday I won't
Miss you at all