Work Text:
“If I had a pair of wings, wouldn’t I be able to leave this place?” I asked Antonio while picking tomatoes.
“Huh?” His face was the very picture of surprise. “If you were to leave, where would you even go?”
“Uh… Anywhere would do,” I said, putting the fruit in the basket, “I’d want to go somewhere where you’re not, at least.”
Just as I had expected, Antonio’s face fell, and he let out a long, vapid “Ehhh…”
“I’m only joking,” I mumbled.
The tomatoes were wet with morning dew, glittering like rubies in the basket I held. I bounded towards the fragrance that had wafted over to the field, followed by Antonio’s incessant nagging. I didn’t need to look at him to know what kind of expression he was wearing — dumb and insipid, painfully so. For some reason, I had the urge to laugh out loud.
But I really had dreamt of leaving.
I wanted to leave Feliciano, my vacuous brother who knew nothing but cheer and laughter; I wanted to escape the nosy stares of the crowds I passed, and I wanted to run away from the world’s great powers, who eye me like a predator does its prey.
I’d even thought about leaving Antonio.
Oh, to leave! To grow a pair of wings, and fly away from my misery — I’d leave it all behind, my love and my hate; every feeling, and every thought.
It’s just that whenever I happen to think of it, Antonio’s eyes somehow surface in the back of my mind. Sparkling with joy, drooping with sadness, or warm with care.
Even if it’s just a simple glance, they make my thoughts disappear like they were never there.
When did it start? I can only guess that I’d built it up into a habit from a young age. Not a single day passes without these impulses of mine, and every day I grow more reliant on the shackles called Antonio that bind these wings til they can fly no longer.
But my own heart also fills every day, like a basket crammed with tomatoes.
Therefore, therefore.
A bird’s wings. Born of freedom and love.