Cold.

That was the first thing I felt as soon as I opened my eyes. I've always hated this terrifying cold sensation ever since. Not only it makes my body feels like it's covered with fucking ice, it makes me feel incredibly lonely as well. And I don't think loneliness is something a person could ever endure for a long time. Well, not that I'll admit it to anyone out loud. My lips was bled out dry, even if I didn't brush my finger over to prove it. I tried to say something but my mouth betrayed my intentions, leaving me to utter incomprehensible sounds instead. I scrambled around to find my blanket but my weight fell on the ground and I ended up lying on the wooden floor.

"Fuck." I muttered bitterly, as if cursing would help ease the pain spreading in my ass. I got up a few moments later and went to the bathroom, deliberately avoiding the pile of dirty clothes scattered on the floor. Well, what can I do? I'm a messy person and cleaning up will only lead to something more disastrous. It smelled like garbage in my room as usual. Thank god, I keep the bathroom clean at least. I decided to take a slow dip in the tub first before anything else. I took off all of my clothes and turned my head to the mirror.

How unsightly.

My monstrous bed hair was another thing with all those sticking out to every direction, along with an outstanding curl I was born with, but I was referring to how bloody thin my body was. It's not that I was an anorexic shit; it's just the fact that a 24 year old grown man looks like some kind of a wimp. You know? The kind of people who gets bumped into their lockers by bigger, muscular men or those shits who gets picked on at school? Yeah, my body was as fucked up as that. It didn't help that I was lazy as fuck too, so even if I forced myself to jog or do any sort of exercise, I would find myself ditching it moments later.

I went inside the tub, which I filled up with hot water earlier, and started to soak myself. It wasn't that I really minded it. Sure, I had other stuff to worry about, like my work. My boss isn't really pleased with the articles I submitted to him lately. Saying, "It's not good enough for the audience" or really it's just somewhere along the lines of, "I swear to god I'll slit my throat the next time you even send me something". It's a wonder how I even got into that popular paper when my interview went so bad. I barely remembered anything, really, because I was so nervous that I just spat whatever I could spit. They started asking me something about my school, if I had experience joining in that annual journalism contest. I don't think they really cared about it that much. They just wanted to know if I have experience or if I ever won something or else, everything was going down to the dump. Or at least, that's what I vaguely remembered. Everything was jittered and pranced all around in my head so I stopped thinking about it, considering it was starting to give me a fucking headache. I guess it was a given, seeing that it happened like three years ago.

I scoffed and dipped my head further down the water, letting it submerge my whole face. Three whole years, and I never got a promotion or anything. Not even a single raise. I didn't even make any friends during that time because everyone avoided me. It's not my fault that I was grumpy and hard to deal with. Hell, even my own family could barely handle me. What more if it's a bunch of strangers. I suppose they are an inch closer in strangling me.

I didn't mind it anyway, whether to die or to live. I just can't feel anything real lately. No, scratch that. Not lately, it's been every single day of my life. Even if I ate my favorite pasta, even if I see a beautiful bella, even when I talk to people, even when people insulted me, even when people shoved me around, even when people at work pretends I don't exist, even when I see my brother or my grandpa, nothing. It's as if a massive hole was permanently residing somewhere in my heart. It's as if it was sucking any sort of emotions left inside me, carving a somewhat empty space deep inside my soul. I didn't enjoy life nor did I hated it. Sure, I go to work, I walk, I talk, I eat, like any other human beings do.

But something is always missing.

I got out of the tub and dried myself off with that plump baby blue towel. I walked towards my closet and took out a pale white turtleneck sweater, a piece of denim jeans, and a black boxers and continued to slip it to my body. I put my contacts in my eyes and blinked a bit as I watched the scenery become more sharp and vivid. I wore my favorite black and white striped jacket over it and went to the nearby bakery, locking the door out in the process. I shivered slightly as the brewing coldness kissed my cheeks. I should've worn more jacket if I knew it was going to be this cold.

I walked casually across the street, smiling so often at girls who passed by me, until I reached my destination. It was your casual bakery with all the breads and pastries they could make, but with a huge tag, "Big Daddy's Bakery" hovering over the rooftop of the shop. The name was such a tacky idea, perverted even. But I guess it really depends on how you will think of it. For me, it's just plain tacky. Lame. Nevertheless, everything they made was downright delicious and I'm totally not joking around when I declare that their products are the best one in this town. My thoughts was interrupted by the sudden growl of my stomach, earning me a few giggles from the lady in front me. What a way to humiliate myself.

I went in line and waited patiently for my turn. When it was finally my time, I told them to get me the bread from the first tray and the worker smiled at me, which I returned, as she gave me a brown paper bag. Then, I gave her the money she needed at the counter.

I raised my eyebrow questioningly at its weight, because this was way heavier than I expected. Did she slip some drugs while I wasn't looking at her? Now that made me slightly nervous.

"Oh, the extras are on me sweetheart! Since you always dropped by at our store to buy so many of our stuff." This woman, who I think is Elizabeth based on her name tag, continued to smile at me. I sighed in relief, realizing that that was just my imagination. Stupid, Lovino.

"I don't think I can take so much." I muttered, sort of surprised that she actually recognized me. I pressed the bag to her, gesturing that she should take the remaining ones but Elizabeth shook her head in a firm manner. She winked at me and said, "Think of it as a present from us and just take it."

"Fine. And thanks." I gave up on arguing and just turned my body towards the door. I left the store and took a peek at the stuff she gave me. It's a piece of cheesecake and some muffins, together with the original stuff I ordered, a tacky loaf bread. I shrugged and proceeded to walk to the park. I guess it's not bad to have something sweet once in a while.

I moved through the road quickly and bumped into someone. Considering it was a man, and not a woman, I figured it's time to unleash the wrath of my potty mouth.

"Watch it, shit face." I said to the stranger, who just frowned for a while until he suddenly beamed at me. I blinked for a while and he continued to smile at me. He tried to get my hand before I decided to make a run for it.

Whoa, wait. Did I see that right? Why was he smiling when I insulted him? That was new. Have I seen him before? No, I would remember him if he was that weird. Or someone that sexy. Fuck it, Lovino. You should think right now. Is he one of those kinky creeps? Uh, what do you call it? A masonic? Shit, no, not that word. But it's somewhere close to it. Oh yeah! I snapped my fingers as I remembered. A masochist! Those people who gets sexually aroused when their partner, or anyone in particular would insult them!

I mentally slapped myself for thinking of such profane things. Of course not, I realized in despair. No one would even think of me as something like that, not even the worst of all perverts out there. Not that I want them to get attach to me. That would be disgusting and I'd rather torture myself in watching a sponge talking for eternity than have them touch me.

I stopped by the bench and sat down. I placed the paper bag at the side and slumped over. I slowly pulled off the hems of my clothes and revealed a pale, white skin.

There's definitely a valid reason why I won't get married nor fall in love. In our age, now and even back then, hints for your soulmate is listed on your wrists. Oh, I know. Soulmates? What sort of dickhead would even believe in that? Even I didn't believe at it at first, thinking that someone just cursed the mankind, until my brother eloped with the potatofucker he calls "Soulmate". As much as I disapprove of their relationship, I figured I didn't have the heart to actually separate them from each other. Grandpa told us everything about it before when we were just little. Soulmates are technically tied up to your soul even when you weren't born. It was what the Fates decided and we cannot absolutely defy against it. Soulmates were everything.

Grandpa told me that even though you were happy with life, if you weren't together with that 'someone', you're just brooding on a heavier impact on the ground. I didn't actually know what he means by that. He told us that you would live a life, trying to find that 'someone' and you will always get frustrated every day because those itching desires are just threatening you to lunge yourself somewhere, anywhere your body will lead you to your soulmate.

"Then, why aren't we getting that sort of desire?" I remembered myself asking, looking up at him with a frown. He laughed at Feliciano, my younger brother, as he creased his eyebrows together in agreement.

"It's because-"His voice faded in my mind as I replaced it by projecting it in my mouth.

"You have to see them to actually feel the intensity." I finished up, breathing in and out as I watched the birds flying around. I suddenly felt my heart picking up, and every hair on my skin is daring to lift itself higher than it is possible. I closed my eyes, and opened it again just to confirm if I was really in reality or was I dreaming about it. I shifted a little to the side and looked sideways just to make sure no one was watching me. This was weird. I shouldn't feel like that. After all, nothing was written on my wrist. Doesn't that mean I don't have a soulmate? Grandpa said that even the slightest glimpse of them could make you go crazy. But I don't have any soulmate, I thought bitterly.

I shook my head immediately and ate a bit of the loaf bread I bought earlier. It must be because I'm hungry. I mean it's like noon already and I haven't eaten anything yet. Yes, that must be it. I tried to convince myself that was it but the consistent ache in my whole body was telling me otherwise.

I finished up everything on the bag and crumpled it. I threw it on the nearby trash can while I was sitting down because that's how mighty of a lazy ass king I was. It didn't go well as I thought it would be though. It ended up bouncing from it and dropped on the ground. I groaned a little bit, before picking it up on the ground. While my eyes were on the dirt, a pair of fancy shoes found itself before me.

"The fuck you're looking at?" I said as I looked up to a man a bit taller than me. It irked me to know that this was the man who was trying to grab me. He looked harmless though. He had no guns or whatever weapon he could use to knock me out so I decided to take a quick glance at him.

I would be fucking lying to myself if I would say he wasn't attractive. He was definitely European, with that tanned skin and a deep shade of green eyes. His hair was a bit ruffled, which reminded me of the morning bed hairs, but otherwise it formed a great combination of adorable curliness. He was wearing a formal suit which made me wonder what sort of business he attended to but I didn't let myself bite into it. He was still wearing that weird looking smile as I stepped back a little, feeling a bit embarrassed that our faces was really close to each other. He didn't seem to mind it though, which agitated me a bit for some reason.

I noticed that he was a little out of breath and was sweating a lot. My eyes widened in realization that he must have followed me here.

"Did you fucking follow me?" I demanded, sounding a bit stern than I originally intended. He frowned for a bit and stared at me for a while before shoving his hand in the bag he was holding. He brought out a card and handed it to me. I refrained from getting it but when he looked at me with that big smile, I couldn't help but comply. Fuck it. He doesn't seem to be someone bad or someone who could hurt me. Hell, he doesn't even look like he could hurt a fly even if his life depended on it.

I took the card away from him as he smiled even more. I didn't even know if I should be happy or not. I kept my menacing look, refusing to let my guard down as I analyzed the card from him. It read Antonio Fernandez Carriedo with a few scribbled numbers on the bottom. The picture there was so bad, I actually had to stop myself from cracking a smile.

I sighed before saying, "Well, what the fuck do you want?" He shrugged his shoulders and I was growing impatient. Why isn't he saying anything? He could at least say something. Anything. The least I would want is him not taking the effort to talk. Was he that lazy? Or does he not understand what I was saying? A tourist, maybe?

"Don't just stand there. Say something." I said sternly as I saw him flinch in my words. He just shook his head and looked at me. He looked like he wanted to say something but his face tells me that he's having a hard time doing so.

"If you don't have anything to say. Please don't bother me anymore."

I was about to walk away when I heard a big thud behind me. I quickly turned around and saw him on the ground. Panic filled my entire conscience and I immediately went and tried to pick him up. He was heavier than I thought so the next thing I had to do was to look around and ask someone to help me.

"Shit." I growled in displeasure, seeing that no one was around. It's in the fucking afternoon at a beautiful weekend and no one is here? What the fuck are people doing? I brought my face near to Antonio's chest, slightly relieved that he was still alive. Thank god, he just passed out.

I scanned the area for a moment before I saw a man passing by.

"Hey there!" I said, trying to get the man's attention. The first thing I noticed about him was his extraordinary white hair. He seemed young too, about my age. But his hair gave me an impression that he might be an albino. He was tall, at least a few inches from me. He was wearing a rather laid back outfit, with all the jeans and t-shirt and all. His intense red eyes fell on Antonio first as he stopped on his track to look at me next.

"Can you fucking help me? This guy passed out and I'm not enough to bring him to my house." I said, as he grinned at me. Why is everyone smiling at me today? This is so fucking weird. What have I done to receive such treatment? Is this a sign that I'm going to die today? I shook my head and brought myself to reality.

"So you're going to just bring him over to your house? Do you even know this man?" The man asked, replacing his grin with a questioning look. His voice was a bit high pitched, giving me a bit of worry. But I need someone to help me. I don't have any friends to call help for, Feliciano eloped with the potatofucker and my grandpa is in another country.

And it's not like I could just leave him here. I considered trying for an ambulance, but then I barely had any money to feed myself and the rent for the apartment was getting close. This guy doesn't look like he has money for hospital bills too. I'd rather let this stranger rest for a bit in my house and when he wakes up, I'll kick him out in a heartbeat. That brought me to the man's question again. Why do I have to help this guy? I could just leave him here and I won't have to worry about anything at all.

I gulped, looking at Antonio's face again. I don't know why but I feel like I have to help this guy. Maybe it was just my inner conscience speaking. I scoffed. Inner conscience, my ass. I might be just a little curious about him. Not that I would openly admit it out loud.

"Yeah, I do." I answered dryly, taking one of Antonio's arm over my shoulder. I got up and felt my legs wobbling under the heavy weight of this man's body.

"Look, if you don't want to help, leave it and go on your way."

"Gilbert." The albino man said, taking Antonio's other arm on his shoulder. It balanced out and we were able to carry him properly.

"Huh?" Was my very intellectual response. He smirked at me as he glanced on the road.

"You have to at least know the name of the awesome person who's saving your ass." I lifted my eyebrow at that but said nothing in response. Then, I pointed to my apartment. He seemed to understand what I meant as we walked towards it. We arrived in front of my door a few moments later and then Gilbert tore away from us.

"Are you sure you're not bringing him over just to fuck him?" Gilbert said as I felt the blood rushing over to my face.

"What the fuck?! What even made you fucking think like that?! I'm not going to- I just want to-"I snapped angrily, like I always do. Except this time, I didn't know what to say. I always had an insult to throw people off. The cold must be getting to me. Maybe that's why I'm losing my cool right now. Maybe I am a bit intrigued about him, the reason why he exerted the effort to catch up to me? But I certainly didn't bring him over to my room just to have sex with him. I didn't even know what the hell I'm doing. Surprisingly, he just seemed to smirk as he turned his back and said, "I'm done with my job here, brat."

He walked away and my stupid mouth run off on its own, "What should I do to thank you? You can't just leave and push the guilt on me. I have to repay you somehow!" Gilbert just waved his hand and headed towards the staircase, "Just come over to our bakery again!" And that was the last thing I heard from him. Bakery? Which one? Fuck, if he wants me to buy his stuff he should've at least left the address or something.

I scooted over my bed and placed Antonio there carefully, trying not to wake him up. I retreated to the couch nearby, throwing my jacket off the floor for my room was less freezing than it was outside now.

I stretched my arms for a while and watched Antonio breathe in and out consecutively. He looked so peaceful. I wonder what made him pass out. Was it too cold outside? I mean like, cold enough to knock you out? Or was it stress? Did I say something that surprised him? I felt a throbbing ache in my head and rested my body on the couch. I felt my eyes begin to weigh down and I soon found myself caving in to the temptations of sleep.

…

After what seemed to be decades to me, I woke up to the alluring scent of food. I immediately bolted from my seat and scanned my room hastily. Where's Antonio? However, the new change in my surroundings distracted me from panicking. The disgusting smell from my dirty, used clothes were gone, altogether with the actual existence of dirt. Everything was cleaned up, from my dishes, to my bed, the kitchen, the floor and even the ceiling. I was a bit confused as to why this magical thing happened in my apartment when I never even had a maid or a housekeeper of some sort. For once, it looked like an actual room. Not to mention, there was a neatly arranged table setting on the table with a big plate of pasta in the middle. There was also a bottle of wine inside a bucket full of ice. I slightly wondered why the hell are there two plates when I live alone in this apartment? Did he think that I share this room with someone?

My questions were answered when I saw a letter in the table. Most of it but eh. I picked it up and it read, "Hello there, this is Antonio. Thank you for taking care of me while I passed out. To express my gratitude, I decided to clean up your apartment, seeing as it was, well; I'm sure you know why I did so. I do hope that you wouldn't mind." I rolled my eyes at that. No one would be angry at someone who cleans up after your mess. Did Cinderella lashed out at the fairies? No? Then, you get my point.

His handwriting was surprisingly clean and neat for a man. If I didn't know who wrote this, I'd probably mistake it for a woman. He was being way too formal though and it sort of made me uncomfortable.

I continued reading his letter, "I apologize for the ruckus I dropped on you earlier. I merely wanted to know your name but it seemed that my body was acting before I even know it. If it would be alright, do you mind meeting up again for dinner today at Reclony's? Let's say, around 7 pm? I'm willing to pay for your share, seeing as I am the one who invited you. Please send me a message in the number below if you will comply. Thank you and I am thrilled to see you again."

I placed the letter on the table again, dropping my head down as well. I can already feel my heart lunging outside of my ribcage. I think, I think, a guy just asked me out. And a hot one at that.

Crystal beads of sweat are starting to flow down my face and I decided to walk towards my bed, only to trip on the way there. I cursed at no one in particular as I sat up. Now, this was weird. A guy asking another guy out? Isn't that morally wrong? Not that I was a die-hard Christian or anything but I never really thought about dating a man before. To hell with the concept of dating. I never dated before. I flirted with girls but it never went further than that.

I breathed heavily, messing my hair up. How does that even go? I can't even bring flowers because, you know, he's a guy. Should I bring something manly? I shook my head and began to blink. When did I even say I'm going to go? Oh fucking cheese dip, I'm actually considering this? I knew Feliciano was gay but me?

Okay, I'm going to admit. I do love beautiful girls, I would even stop walking just to flirt with them, to tell them how beautiful they are. Girls deserve to be complimented by other people. They're the precious gemstone in this stupid world. And I do know a handsome person when I see them and Antonio definitely belongs to their breed. This was so frustrating. Should I accept or not? Antonio seemed to be a good person, even at first glance you can see the sunshine radiating from him. He even cleaned up my room, which is a big point to me since I can't even do something as to wash the dishes. I broke most of my dishes before and I'm not going to risk it again. I guess he's trying to make up for his mistake? For what? For someone like me? That's fucking impossible.

"Fuck it. I'm just going to get over it." I mumbled to myself, punching the numbers on my phone. I called his number and brought the phone over to my ear. It's been ringing for a while before he picked up.

"Hello?" I said, growing a little anxious that maybe it was someone else. But I clearly remembered his number and I made sure to check the numbers carefully before dialing it.

"It's Lovino. The guy you met in the park today. Why the fuck should I even go to dinner with you? I'm not going." I heard a little shuffling sound at the end before it hang up. Can he get even ruder?

Okay. Let me know when you want to. : )

I felt a little guilty about doing this but nothing is going to change my mind no matter what. I'm Lovino Vargas for god's sake. And he doesn't show any kind of kindness to anyone. Even if he's someone who looks adorably cute and sexy for a man.

Fuck it, I need a drink.

I stood up and looked at his message again, raising my eyebrow at the fact that there was more. Why did he even put spaces below? That's so stupid. I dragged my finger down on my phone, only to drop it in embarrassment.

But I'm not giving up on you.

Is he fucking retarded? No means fucking no, damn it! Nevertheless, I felt my face heating up once again and I felt restless. I want to smack myself in the forehead several times until I develop a concussion. Like, seriously? Why the fuck would I get flustered over someone I barely know?

But you can get to know each other.

Fuck you, inner mind. You're not going to break my history of non-dating shit. But then, my mind wandered to Feliciano. He was the perfect little brother and he was everything I wanted to be. He was always smiling. Sometimes I wondered if he would break his jaw someday by smiling too much. I can't even flash a genuine smile to anyone, even to my own family. He was talented, far more talented than me. He easily got a great job after graduating college because oh no, who wouldn't love such a young, talented, smart, kind and everyfuckingshit man?

I didn't hate him, even if I wanted to. God, hating him would be much easier. I mean, I lash out at him every time but I never ever hated him for being who he is. I'm still his big brother in the end. And I would do everything in my power to protect him, a feat that my parents couldn't do because they died. That brings me to that stupid potato bastard Feliciano brought home like two years ago.

If looks could kill, I would've slaughtered that big lump of muscles. He was all muscles, seriously. And oh god, he was looking at Feliciano like he was planning on taking him right there in front of me. Spare me from that thought, okay. Well, that was when my younger brother was inside the room. The moment he left, I pinned him with the most menacing glare I could muster. I gave him the 'talk' and one way or another, he passed it. After a few couple months, of course. I'm Lovino, bitch. I don't give away my brother easily. He had to earn it.

I jumped at the sound of the bells ringing in my front door, forcibly cutting me off from my own thoughts. I scurried on the way to it and then, I opened the door.

Antonio is standing right in front of my door with his usual smile. He was no longer wearing his suit, but instead he wore a blue jacket with a hood, together with his denim jeans. His hair was a bit brushed to the side, giving a bit more highlight to his green eyes. His lips were curled upwards as he brought my attention to the cardboard he's holding.

'Will you have dinner with me?'

Goddamn, he is so stubborn. I rolled my eyes and scanned him again from head to toe. His appearance didn't seem to give off the I'm-going-to-a-fancy-restaurant which brought me to another fucking question.

"Where?" I said while he pointed at the table inside my room. So that's why there were two plates. He probably figured that I would reject him so he brought dinner to my apartment instead. Great, just fucking great. What a sly fucker.

"How can you even convince me to have dinner with you? We just met today, if your tiny stupid head doesn't fucking know."

He blinked for a while before reaching out to his bag. He brought out a piece of paper and handed it to me. Like, a stupid paper could even convince me to do anything. I looked at the paper and instantly gasped. I looked to him as my eyes widened in surprise, making him smile even more.

"Why the fuck do you have Laura Poitras' signature?!" I almost shouted but I remembered to keep my voice low because the last time I shouted, my neighbors weren't exactly pleased with it.

He shrugged and moved over behind me. I followed after him and closed the door. If this was the Lovino one minute ago, he might have shoved Antonio out, but man, he's good. He's good enough to transform hate into might not hate. There really is a thin line between hate and like. He must have noticed that I have the documentaries she made ever since while he was cleaning. Everything she makes are fucking epic and I respect her so much. Being an artist, a filmmaker and a journalist? Now, that's a woman to bow down to.

I couldn't hide the happy expression I have right now. I immediately went to my room and emptied the box I kept. I placed it inside carefully and then, went to the kitchen wherein Antonio was already seated. He looked proud on what he did as he watch me sat down on the other end. I turned on the radio behind me and let the music fill in the silence while we ate the food he made.

Granted, it was a bit cold now, considering of the amount of time he left it but it was still delicious. And that was saying a lot because being an Italian? It was in our blood to cook pasta and worship tomatoes. I twirled the noodles in the plate, glancing at Antonio often. He poured wine into the cups in the table as I muttered a simple thanks.

"How about we play 20 questions?" He suddenly looked up, his face drawn into an expression of confusion.

"It's a game where we ask each other questions per turn. It's one of the simplest ways to get to know each other. You want that, right?" I asked, secretly pleading that he won't reject my offer. The awkwardness in this room is killing me, even if he's mute I somehow want to converse with him one way or another. Plus, I'm doing him a favor by getting to know each other, right?

He dove his hand into his pocket and brought out his phone. A long sleek Samsung Galaxy. Wow, maybe he had more money than I pegged him to be. He typed something there and when looked sort of satisfied, he showed it to me.

"Sure thing! What's your favorite color?"

"Color? Seriously? Out of everything you could have asked, my favorite color?" I deadpanned, staring at him like he wasn't there. He frowned a bit at my reply before he typed something on his phone again.

"I want to know everything about you."

My face flushed at his response as I tore my eyes away from him, suddenly gaining interest on the floor. I could feel his smile even when I don't look at him. I just want to punch him for being so…stupid?

I shook my head and casted him a glare, trying to hide away the blush creeping in my face. He seemed to notice that and smiled even more.

"Red. You?"

"Yellow. Why?"

I shrugged, drinking a small portion of wine from the cup.

"It's the same color as a tomato that's why. How did you even know I like tomatoes and pasta?" I asked, making him look at me with a sly smile.

"I saw your album. From the looks of it, the background was from Italy and Italian men never stray away from those holy trinity." He admitted, making me arch an eyebrow. How did he even get ahold of my album? Maybe he found it while cleaning. Some people seemed to be bothered or even embarrassed when their friends look at their photo album. I don't really care about that. I am cute as fuck even as a toddler swinging his butt at everyone.

"Holy trinity?" I asked, grabbing the napkin on the table to wipe away the ketchup from my face.

"Tomatoes, girls and pasta." I couldn't resist the smile spreading on my face while drinking everything from the cup.

"Do you pass out often? Like, earlier in the afternoon?" I asked, looking at him warily. He seemed to look dejected for a bit before he showed me, "It's a side effect of the medicine I'm taking."

"Oh." Was the only thing I could say to him. I sure have a talent for poking at the most sensitive subject. Damn it. He typed something on his phone again and flashed it before my eyes again.

"I think you're beautiful." I scoffed while Antonio punched the keyboard on his phone again.

"I'm a man for your information. If you didn't know, beautiful is an adjective used for girls."

"Ah, but I will use beautiful to you because that's what I first thought when I met you." My face flushed and I glared at him.

"Are you stupid?" Antonio only casted a ginger smile at me.

"Why aren't you using your voice to talk to me?" I asked honestly but as soon as it left my mouth, I instantly regretted saying that. The color on his face instantly drained away and his smile faded into a frown. He looked down on the floor, hesitating for a little while before he brought his head up to level mine.

"I'm mute." He mouthed as his face contorted in a depressing smile, like he was forcing himself to do so. A sharp piercing guilt tore away any sort of fleeting emotions in my heart. I was shocked, to the point that this fact was truly disturbing. I'm tempted to ask what happened or when did it happen but the look on his face broke my intention to do so.

"I'm sorry." It was the only thing I could say. It was the only thing I could think of saying. He shook his head, probably saying it was okay but what was done was done. The air was thick with silence and it was slowly choking me.

Antonio seemed to notice my discomfort as he leaned closer and placed his hand on my hair. It was a gesture that's apparently made for children for them to stop crying but I didn't know that it actually worked. I felt relaxed, still feeling a bit guilty, but it was better than earlier. I couldn't help but feel mocked though, like he was treating me like a child.

"Do you take siestas often?"

I hummed for a little bit before saying, "As much as my job allows me to, I guess. I sleep naked by the way so you better avoid coming here in the afternoon."

Antonio blushed as he stood up, making me smirk and then, he gathered our plates together. I joined him in cleaning up and he helped me wash the dishes in silence. He was probably thinking of questions to ask me and he obviously can't use his phone while soaking the dishes.

We 'talked' for a while after we settled down on the couch. I learned things about him, most of it was hardly anything specific or personal though. I knew that he painted for a living, where his hometown was before he moved out, how he is the only child in the family, how he is a Spaniard trying to make the best out of his life here in New York but something about his answers tells me that he didn't want me to dive into anything personal yet. I rebutted with the same type of proposal as well, seeing as I want him to delve himself in his own creation.

I didn't mind that we were communicating this way. Honestly, it was refreshing. Mostly because it was new and the others…Ah, let's just say that it's interesting in its own way.

I noticed something odd in his behavior though. He won't stop twirling his thumbs over and over during idle. I didn't bring it up because I didn't want to prod on another sensitive topic, again. So I decided to let it go.

He was typing something again before he leaned over, invading my personal space and showed it to me.

"Can I kiss you?"

I didn't know how to react at first.

It was suddenly hard to breathe in this room. I could feel his breathing, in and out consecutively, and how he touched his forehead onto mine, like he was waiting impatiently for my answer.

I never experienced anything like this before. He was a person I just met today. He was barely close to being an acquaintance of mine, a stranger even. But something in his eyes told me not to shy away from his approach. It might be direct but at least he was being straightforward about it, a personality that I don't exactly hate.

My body soon betrayed any sort of thoughts welling up inside my mind as I dove in front of him and gave him the best kiss I could do. Of course, my whole body was heating up from the embarrassment crawling in my skin but it felt…right somehow. Maybe it was okay. Maybe it would be okay to risk myself falling in love. Maybe everything would be just fine.

But he can't speak.

I broke the kiss first and ended up falling in my ground. My eyes widened in realization on what I had just done. Tears started falling from eyes as I aggressively tried to wipe it away, wishing it would just fucking stop. I don't even know why I am crying. I don't even know why my heart felt so heavy, like it was constricted by something so tight. It felt like it was ripping me apart and then I reached up to touch something. It felt soft. His chestnut hair was soft. Something about it was mildly calming the rage pouring out of me.

It wasn't okay. That was the most indirect confession I've ever heard. It was stupid, lame and was very contradicting to what I've always thought. Why would someone even like someone like me? It was stupid. Antonio is stupid. I'm stupid. Everything in this fucking world is stupid.

But what was truly unexpected was my affection for him. He didn't say anything, he didn't do anything romantic like saying 'I'll be here for you forever' or that 'I'm willing to do anything for you', he couldn't even say anything. I don't even know what he did to make me feel this way. Vulnerable, ashamed and unstable.

I'm alarmed about everything going on right now but the most surprising thing was my strong desire to hear him speak. I didn't know that such a simple thing like talking, could mean so much to me right now.

Then, there were blurry images of Antonio on the couch while writing something on the cardboard. Shit, my contacts must have fell down but I couldn't really care less anymore.

"Please get out." I hear my voice say. I don't want anyone to see me crying, even if he's the sweetest person I've ever met. I don't want him to kiss my tears away. I don't want him to tell everything's going to be fine when it's not. Because I'm not fine. Nothing has ever been fine. This was just a translucent dream. I would soon forget about him as he is going to forget about me. Even if he, on a certain degree, remember me, I would just be that stupid brat he met and spat him enough curses to make him cringe.

I hate myself so much. If only I got even a tiny portion of Feliciano's sweetness, he might have a better company right now. If only I was as nice as Feliciano, then he might not look as hurt as he did right now. If only…I laughed bitterly as Antonio proceeded to go out of the room.

Everything was a fucking dream from the start.