Work Text:
The sound of glass shattering rang through Y/N’s ears as the cup in Antonio’s hand hit the floor. Tears streamed down their face with little specks of mascara flowing through them like leaves floating down a river. Breath caught in their throat, Y/N did everything they could to keep from yelping as the second cup hit the ground. Their eyes snapped shut as three, four, five, all crashed down, painting their kitchen floor in porcelain.
Antonio hadn’t properly said a word, the only sounds escaping him being the grunts of frustration and anger as he destroyed their collection of mugs. His hands were reaching out, grabbing whatever plate, cup, or bowl was nearest to him before flinging them down, out, up for all he cared. Anything breakable would be broken when he was done with his rampage.
Y/N’s eyes shut tighter, preventing them from watching the love of their life throw a temper tantrum. Antonio’s anger had been getting worse lately, but today was clearly the final straw. It didn’t matter that Y/N hadn’t meant to make any of the mistakes they made. It didn’t matter that their attempts to be delicate and comforting hadn’t come off that way, none of it mattered. It all boiled down to one thing; that they didn’t work. That they’d never work, that they probably never had. It had never mattered, because Y/N had felt it coming months ago. The feeling of dread, the inability to have a conversation without Antonio getting angry, the fear … it had all been obvious. Y/N knew they couldn’t stop this, it was already in motion, but they could work their ass off in order to keep the love of their life as long as they could bear to get hurt… as long as either of them could.
When the sounds of shattering glass finally stopped, Y/N slowly opened their eyes. The view that greeted them was just as they expected. Antonio stood in the center of the kitchen still, the ruins of their kitchenware surrounding him. He was panting, his hair thrown over his shoulder and falling out of its ponytail. He was breathing heavily, clearly exhausted from this fit of rage.
“A-antonio…?” Y/N whispered, praying that by keeping their voice down they would be able to avoid their lover’s fury.
But they failed. The fear in their voice was clear, and it felt like nothing but a stab in the heart to Antonio.
“You’re fucking scared of me?” His voice was raspy from yelling a lot these past few weeks, making him sound even more angry than he already was.
Y/N shook their head, but their body betrayed them. They were shaking, their hands were lifted slightly as if ready to defend themself, and the tears hadn’t stopped.
“Don’t you fucking lie to me.” Antonio said, pushing his hand off the counter and standing up straight. He stormed over to Y/N, towering above them. His hands were wrapped into fists at his sides.
“Be fucking honest with me. I hate lies, you know that. You’ve known that since the beginning damnit.” As he spat out the words, he noticed that Y/N wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Their gaze was glued to the ground. This only fanned the flame of anger in Antonio’s stomach. He reached out, trying to grab Y/N’s chin and lift it to look at him.
Y/N screamed, jumping back and falling to the floor. Antonio gasped, stepping back in surprise. His darling was splayed on the floor, their head turned away, arms up to protect themself. They really were terrified.
Antonio felt the last of his heart break as he looked at this. He had done this. He had let his anger, his rage, his pain, his loss, his love, his hate, his everything, out on the one person who made it all better. He’d broken them. There was no fixing this, not for him. How could he ruin the one change he had to live a life of peace?
But suddenly it didn’t matter. Antonio’s eyes had focused again, but this time his love had turned to face him and lowered their arms.
“I-i’m sorry, I p-panicked I just thought-t… I thought-t you were gonna… h-hit…. Hit m-me….” Y/N stuttered out, struggling to get the words out of their mouth. They had really thought about the one thing they never wanted to. They trusted Antonio… didn’t they? The Antonio they knew would never hit them, he wouldn’t lay a hand on them in a million years.. But…
The Antonio who stood before them wasn’t the Antonio they had grown to love. This was a different man. He was identical, wearing the same messy ponytail his lover had, the same loose white button down tucked into his belt, the same long, thin hands. But it wasn’t him. Those eyes of his, they just didn’t belong to the man they loved.
Pain shuddered through both their bodies as they realized just how much damage had been done. Neither of them knew what to do here… but something needed to be done.
Antonio sighed, stepping back and grabbing his coat off the chair he had put it on only hours before this had started. He slipped it over his shoulders, buttoning it up with those thin, broken hands of his.
“Wh-what are you d-doing? A-antonio…?” Y/N said softly, but they knew exactly what was happening. Antonio turned around, walking for the door. He grabbed a hat off the coat rack next to it, as well as an umbrella to tuck under his arm in case the weather got bad.
His hand wrapped around the doorknob before he looked up at his dearest one final time. Their eyes were like galaxies as they stared at each other. One of them was frantic, chaotic, grabbing onto whatever threads it had left as tears streamed out of them, while the other was calm. This set had already given up, a black hole impending to suck up everything beautiful once they looked away. A soft smile spread onto Antonio’s lips, but it fell away just as fast.
“Antonio? Antonio please, stop, where are you going? Antonio? Antonio! Please, stop, come back, we can talk about this! I’m not mad, I’m not! I can clean this up! I can replace it all, it’s just plates, please, don’t go! ANTONIO! ANTONIO PLEASE, STOP! JUST COME BACK, WE CAN TALK ABOUT IT! I CAN FIX THIS! I HAVE TO FIX THIS! ANTONIO, ANTONIO PLEAS-”
Y/N’s desperate cries were all but silence after the door closed, but they kept going. It didn’t matter if he could hear them, they just kept coming and coming until there was nothing left to say, until it was painful to speak. It was over, finally over. It was almost poetic. The first time they had ever gotten close to fixing their mistakes, and yet, they never could.
His footsteps echoed down that hallway one final time, leaving a silence that could kill in his wake.