Work Text:
At 9:30pm, there are plenty of better things to be doing than staring at a blank screen. Studying for midterms, for example, or sleeping. But no, I was staring at a blank screen. I felt so sad and alone in my apartment bedroom in Wisconsin. No pets, no roommates, no friends really to speak of; I was alone. I did, however, have a boyfriend. Sadly, he lived in Italy. A quarter around the world. Go figure.
I could skype message him, but it’s 3:30am there and he’s probably asleep. I didn’t really want to bother him. But I started typing a message anyway. Halfway through the message, I stopped and erased it all, slumping back in my bed depressingly. I closed my eyes in a shoddy attempt to fall asleep, but instead heard skype’s signature Bloop! and saw he had sent me a message.
Hey, why did you stop typing. Are you alright?
How do I say “No, I’m lonely and worried” in a way that doesn’t worry him?
I’m fine I guess. I typed.
Shit. I definitely shouldn’t have said that.
No you’re not. I can tell.
What’s going on?
Honesty is the best policy.
I’m just feeling really alone right now. No one around, ya know?
Plus college is kicking my ass. That’s not fun.
There, maybe that will ease his mind a bit.
Yeah, I know the feeling. Plus college just sucks all around.
Well, except for the learning bit, I suppose.
I laughed. Yep, he really did know the feeling. Living all by himself like me (well, his little brother stops by a lot, but not that often), except in Italy. With going to college for art -- the same thing I am -- he really knows about getting kicked in the ass by college. I just wished…
Yeah...I just wish we could be alone together. Ya know what I mean?
I waited in silence for a reply, but got none. I was just about to close my laptop when I heard the familiar skype ringtone, seeing his face on the screen with his contact name illuminated below the picture: Lovino <3. I accepted the call and saw his face lit up by his own computer screen.
“Hey,” I smiled.
“Hey, surprised to-a hear from me?” he replied, a faint smile crossing his lips.
“Yeah, I thought it was 3-something AM over there. Isn’t a little late for searching for artistic inspiration?”
He sighed, “I don’t-a know, probably? Either way I need to-a figure out three more projects before the end of the month and I haven’t a clue what to do.”
The end of the month was only a couple weeks away.
“Lovi . . . It’s alright, I understand, but you need to understand that sleep helps your mind. What does Antonio tell you all the time?”
“I hate-a that bastard! He’s always getting involved with my-a work,” he snapped.
I deadpanned him, “No you don’t, you’re just annoyed that he enjoys your work as he definitely should.”
“No. No, no. That is-a not a thing. I am not very good and you-a know it.
“Not true, I love your work and you know it. So shut up and answer me this: When the fuck do you sleep then Mr Creative Pants?”
“Four or five to noon. I really hate-a sleeping,” he grumbled. “I waste so much-a precious time.”
“I can understand that, I wish I was sleeping with you by my side…. It’d be better than this cold and quiet February alone.”
He looked into my eyes and frowned, “Then why don’t we-a move in together? We can surely figure something out. It’s actually quite-a warm here. . . .”
I shook my head, “Your life and family is in Italy and I have college, as well as my own family…. How would we work around those two ugly facts?”
He sighed, “It would be too complicated for the one who moves. Passports, fees, citizenship, family, school… it’s all over the place, and I’m-a sorry for that.”
“Don’t be, it’s not your fault I don’t live in Europe.”
“And it’s-a not yours either. Remember that.”
I smiled weakly, “I’ll try.”
“No, you will say ‘I will always-a remember that.’”
“‘I will always-a remember that!’” I said, making a terrible impression of his accent.
“Hey, be nice to my-a language!”
I pouted, still impersonating the accent, cleaning it up quite well, “I am being-a nice. You just-a need to remember that I-a know a lot of Italian myself!”
He laughed. He laughed.
“What? Don’t-a believe me?”
“No, I don’t, ragazza.”
“Credo che questo, tu stupido cazzo.” [Believe this, you stupid fuck.]
He was taken aback, that’s for sure. “Wow, you need to stop-a listening to me. I seem to be a bad influence.”
“Stai zitto! Tu sei un amichetto chi non credere io posso parlare Italiano!” [Shut up! You are a boyfriend who doesn’t believe I can speak Italian!]
“True, true. But really? Speak a language you know-a better, amore.”
“Wie etwa Deutsch? Ich habe gewesen sprechen Deutsch mein Mein ganzes Leben.” [How about German? I have been speaking German my whole life.]
“German, really?”
“You said speak something I’m more familiar with, so I did.”
“Stai zitto, idiota ragazza! Ti amo.” [Shut up, idiot girl! I love you.]
I smiled, “I love you too. Now go to sleep. I need to as well.”
He sighed, “Fine, fine. I’ll go to-a sleep, but these-a projects better get done-a soon then!”
I nodded, “You can do it.”
He just shrugged, “Okay. Buona notte, amore. Ti amo, ______.” [Good night, love. I love you _____]
“Ti amo troppo, Lovino. Dormi bene." [I love you too, Lovino. Sleep well.]
~fin