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When he saw him again after what appears several years, disgust was the first thing he felt. Sadness came right after it.
Right in front of him stood a very thin man, his posture was slouched, as if he was held by marionette strings rather then his own strength.
His hair was pitch black and seemed to have a life of his own. The hair held a violin and the bow for it, occasionally shooting out terrific screeching sounds.
It’s the new hunter. „The violinist“ was his name, and even the name made Andrew shiver. Shiver because it sounded familiar. Similar because ....
The first time he met Antonio Paganini was indeed, at a funeral. Well, after a funeral. Andrew was just a spectator at the back, trying not to disrupt the people that obviously were mourning. The people who just lost someone.
Andrew always kept his distance at the ceremony, trying not to scare people away since most of the villagers seem to not really be fond of his appearance.
He was a monster after all. Sick. Lonely. Godforsaken. Only here to do the dirty work, which for Andrew, wasn’t even the dirty work at all.
Rumors were more dirty then the actually dirt, he had to dig through almost every day.
It was an expensive funeral, whoever paid for it spend a good amount of money on it. Maybe it payed of the sins, this man might have fulfilled.
They hired a violinist to play, Andrew wasn’t really up to date with music, in fact he wasn’t up to date with ... anything.
But the way this man played was so wonderful ... intriguing even, Andrew couldn’t move the whole performance long. He felt trapped. And ... somehow internally soothed.
Later, after the funeral ceremony, after everyone left, Andrew still had the melody in his head. It was a wonderful piece of music, a piece he shouldn’t be allowed to listen to.
After all he didn’t deserve it. What monster deserved to have wonderful music stuck inside its head?
But even his guilty thoughts couldn’t overcome the beauty of the melody, as he buried the coffin of the recently deceased.
Most of the time he just concentrates on his work. After all there was nothing to be distracted from.
„Good evening“ those two words made Andrew jump and his heart beat faster. He almost let the shovel fall to the ground as he turned around to the unknown voice.
„Oh did I scare you? I apologize for that.“ this smile... the Voice. It belonged to the violinist from before, and Andrew just stared at him with wide eyes. Didn’t he leave with the others? What is he doing here?
„I-...“ breathe, Andrew lowered his gaze and clutched his shovel „as you may see the ... funeral already ended, why are you still here?“ „ah. I only was here because I owed the poor widow a favor ... and maybe because of the free booze.“ he grins, Andrew could tell by looking up a bit.
He was well dressed, his long hair was tied back ... he was pretty. Oddly enough. A man shouldn’t look like that, at least not in Andrews Book. It confused him... what did this Violinist want from him? „That ... still doesn’t explain why you are still here.“
Andrew said quiet irritated that his company.
He preferred to be alone, not only because he knew that most people would talk about him behind his back anyway,
he didn’t deserve the company, he was gods mistake, but he also ... maybe just got used to the loneliness that lives in his heart since his mother passed away.
„I saw you from the distance when I played, and I thought someone this pretty can’t truly be the gravekeeper here. I had to make sure I didn’t see an angel.“ the violinist winked but Andrew heard enough.
He stabbed his shovel in the ground quiet angrily „I see how it is. If you want to make fun of me then I advise you to go somewhere else. I have work to do.“ he exclaimed angrily, which made the other one in silence for a moment.
„No! I guess I have to apologize to you again. I never intended to make fun of you ... as I only speak the truth.“ Andrew wanted to laugh, but he was too nervous to do that. His heart was beating so fast, it almost hurt.
„I think the free drinks are quiet blurring your conscience....“ Andrew murmured. He picked up his shovel so he could go back to work. He needed to do something with his hands. He needed something to keep him occupied.
„No... no. Don‘t worry, I won’t stay long. It’s getting quiet cold and I get sick easily.“ that was extremely underestimated, in fact, Antonio probably knew about that.
„Where are my manners? Calling you an angel, without even knowing your name ... no wonder you don’t trust me.“ he laughed and Andrews heart skipped a beat which almost made him wince. Stop this. This is a grown man that will make a fool out of you. What’s wrong with you?
Ah yes. He was cursed. No wonder. He bit his lip and listened to the violinist „my name is Antonio Paganini, and you are...?“ Andrew stopped for a moment and thought about just ignoring him, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. This man held a rather okay conversation with him. How long ago was it, that someone talked decently with him? Without calling him a monster?
An abomination? Without turning around and telling rumors that were more terrible, then the illness that seem to rule Andrews life.
„Andrew Kreiss...“ he didn’t take the skinny hand that Antonio offered him. It was too early for any physical contact.
Not to mention that Andrew felt too disgusting. He can’t be out here touching anyones hand. Even with his gloves ...
Antonio seemed to get the message and just retreated the offer „well. It’s nice to meet you, Andrew Kreiss.“
It was not their last meeting. And Andrew found himself thinking about Antonio Paganini a lot. The musician never visited regularly, Andrew was never expecting that.
He didn’t know why Antonio was here in the first place. How did he deserve ... company? Even if the company was a more often drunk violinist, that talked in a flirty manner or just played his beloved instrument?
Andrew got comfortable near Antonio. Suddenly it wasn’t that bad to talk to him, even tho he couldn’t take the compliments. They talked a lot. More then Andrew expected since he never was a big talker. They had a lot of different opinions, views. Especially when it came to religion. Antonio was a free soul, he said he didn’t believe in god, but at the same time he sometimes still compared Andrew to an angel, which to his unliking made Andrew always almost throw him out of the graveyard.
Not long into this friendship they had, friendship... were they friends? Andrew didn’t know. Was this what Friends did? He was uncertain, but whatever this was. Andrew found out soon enough what a broken soul Antonio was. He talked a lot, he apologized when he left for a long time, he told Andrew about his passion for the gamble, how it always cost him his fortune. How he gets sick a lot, how he sometimes feels like his limbs would fall off because they hurt a lot. On bad days, when Antonio almost blackout drunk went to visit Andrew, he talked a lot more about it. And Andrew couldn’t do much then to listen.
Andrew prayed for Antonio. A lot. Because he couldn’t deny that he ... cared a lot for his friend that just seemed as godforsaken as he himself was. Damned to love this terrible life ...
Andrew prayed for this man, the man with that wonderful talent, the famous violinist that has so much more to him then the violin could ever tell. The violinist that had a wonderful smile, Antonio, who’s voice was just so soothing to Andrew he could fall asleep to it
....
Stop it.
He shouldn’t think about him like this. But deep down Andrew couldn’t really help himself.
He was in love with him.
He will never forget the last time he saw Antonio Paganini alive.
The weather was terrible, it either snowed or rained or both at once. It was terribly cold and Andrew didn’t even expected Antonio to come visit him anytime soon. He was out of town wasn‘t he? Didn’t he have a concert? Something like that. Now that he thinks about it ... it’s been a while since he saw Antonio. He seemed busy. Which Andrew couldn’t really blame him for. Andrew was his least priority and that was fine. Even tho the Gravekeepers Prayers were almost all towards the Violinist.
God can’t save him, but can God save Antonio?
But when Andrew saw the sickly thin, very tall figure standing in the rain, hair already soaking wet, his heart dropped. „Antonio?“ he approached him, was he drunk? Probably. His clothes were as soaked as his hair, they looked ... very out of place. The whole scene looked off. Antonio, even tho he was drunk a lot, and got sick a lot, always seemed ... collected. Well dressed. Smiling. Flirting. But this ... this view made Andrew worry.
„I... I messed up Andrew...“ was he crying? Andrew looked confused „what? Why? Antonio?“ Slowly he took the others hand „come you shouldn’t stay here.... you Are soaked, you gonna get sick again-" but instead of following or even listening to Andrew, he pulled the him into his arms which overwhelmed the man. They never had much physical contact, the most Antonio did. was brush Andrew hair out of his face occasionally. Which already was too much for Andrews weak heart to manage. This right now? Antonio wouldn’t hug Andrew if there wasn’t something wrong.
He never received a hug like this. He could feel Antonio sob and after some irritation, he wrapped his arms around the skinny body. He was afraid to break the man infront of him, he was afraid if he touched him too much he would just make him more corrupted to his sins ...
„I-... I have to leave, my Angel.“ he hated that nickname. He was not an angel, but he let it slide „come inside... you can tell me there Antonio. Please it’s cold...“ he tried to coax the violinist but he didn’t even move an inch „I will never come back...“ Andrew stopped with the coaxing, Antonio’s voice was so low, Andrew thought for a moment he imagined it „what?“ „they ... are coming to take me away... I messed up Andrew. I‘m not gonna come back to you.“ Andrew had to take a step back, breaking the hug „what? No. You... you Are leaving me?“ was it egoistic to think about himself in this situation? Maybe.
„Not on Purpose... listen, ... I... made enemies with the wrong people and ... in exchange I need to leave.“ he explained weakly. Andrew looked at him „no... You just can’t leave. You can’t do this...“ I love you...
Andrew tried to stop the tears that were building up in him. He was angry, bitter, sad. He felt betrayed because of course Antonio would leave him. They all left eventually. What a fool he was for thinking Antonio would be different.
„I don’t want to leave .... they offered me to pay the debt by playing music exclusively for them. I don’t have anything else. They will kill me otherwise ... I don’t want to die...“ he sobbed and Andrew looked at the ground, clenched his fist „let’s run away.“ he looked at Antonio „let’s run away. I dont have anything that keeps me here. We can leave.... I... I will manage...“ Antonio laughed sadly, „they will find us ... and if there is one thing I don’t want to do is to get you in danger. My beautiful Gravekeeper...“ he stroked his cheek, but Andrew turned his head and not his lip. „You can’t do this to me Antonio... you can’t just leave like that! You can’t come here and tell me that I will be alone again! That just proofs that no matter what I will... always end up here. Lonely. Alone...“ with the dead ... he was the one to sob now, everything will always turn out bad. Because Andrew was bad to the core. He shouldn’t even be alive. A godforsaken creature with no chance of having someone to love.
Andrew was angry, desperate.. sad. He turned away „of this is a prank ... don’t even think about Coming back to me. If you really don’t want to run away then ... I guess I never was worth it in the first place.“ he shouldn’t have get so invested in this ... friendship they had. What a fool. „If you succumb to the fires of hell... don’t even think about me. I am not worth it.“ he wanted to leave, but before he could even think about it the violinist grabbed his hand and with force Andrew didn’t even knew he had, he pulled the Gravekeeper to himself and into a kiss.
Andrew didn’t respond at first, he never even imagined to kiss someone, especially not a man, he wanted to push him away but he couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t. It might be because of he got caught off guard, or because ... he wanted this.
The kiss wasn’t long, and after it Antonio just stroke Andrews cheek gently. His hands were cold. „If I make it out alive ... if I can come out of this without dying I will come back. I promise.“ and with that... Antonio left. And Andrew let him. A decision he regretted the rest of his life.
If you succumb to the fires of hell.... what did that mean now? Was Antonio lost? Dead? Was this even Antonio? He looked like a puppet guided by demonic nature. Not like the violinist that genuinely smiled when Andrew said something to him, or got the courage to look at him. This was not the Antonio that would come to the graveyard, drunk and would talk with him about anything and nothing. This was not the Antonio Andrew fell in love with.
His thoughts were foggy, he couldn’t process that this was a match. He had to rescue people, he had to rescue the others because it’s the only thing he was able to do.
He can’t save himself, but he can save the others.
But this time, he just hid and let his teammates die. He was afraid, he was afraid of what he would see if he‘d look at the new hunter. The Violinist. His friend....
Antonio, who approached him slowly. He didn’t even register that he was the only one alive, that he‘d been seen. That he doesn’t have a choice but to run away-
Andrew couldn’t run away. He sat there and it was really cold. The map was covered with snow which just made The appearance of the Violinist ... almost scarier. He held his shovel so painfully hard, he was afraid that he is gonna break it-
When he saw the bow raise for a hit Andrew made himself even smaller. Would he hit him? Chair him? Let him bleed out?
No.
Instead the bow and the violin fell to the ground, and as Andrew lifted his gaze, the Violinist himself seemed to just collapse next to him on the ground, wrapping his arms around him. It was a weak grip, Andrew wasn’t even sure if there is even a glimpse or strength in Antonio’s limbs left ... maybe after all he really was a corpse that was barely held together by the demon he succumbed to ...
„I’m sorry...“ it was a pathetic sound he made, was he crying? Andrew wasn’t sure but whatever it was, his heart broke. He was too scared to move, to scared to actually do something. What if he breaks him if he lays his arms around him?
„A....“ he couldn’t bring himself to speak. Antonio...
what have they done to you?
„I’m so ... so sorry.“ Antonio sobbed and Andrew finally got himself to raise his arms and lay them gently around the thin body infront of him.
Antonio was cold... so cold... and Andrew knew, he knew exactly that he might never feel warm again.
That he maybe never felt warm in his whole life.