WHY HELLO THERE MY DEAR READERS.

I'm betting no one thought this would happen, right? What was the chance of me updating this when I haven't touched it in over two years? A frickin messed up life and some complications (aka heartbreak) made me pick this up again, cause what isn't better than to torture my favourite characters when I''m in pain.

Oh and I excuse for how ridiculusly OOC everyone probably are, cause I found this thing actually nearly done so I don't understand why it took such a long time to finish it. SO, if any of you old readers are still out there...let me know. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING ABOUT THIS UPDATE. haaha, this is getting lame, go on and read...if you read this part at all that it.

and I obviously don't own hetalia or the song Echo by Jason Walker.

Lonely Day

Chapter 3

Echo

sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright

but it's never enough

cause my echo, echo

is the only voice coming back

my shadow, shadow

is the only friend that I have

Lovino stormed off in direction of the bathroom, tears yet again burning in his eyes. He could hear the complaints from his brother as he quickly locked the door behind him, his back leaning against the door.

"Fratello? What's wrong?" Feliciano asked softly from the other side of the door, and Lovino could tell that his brother was about to cry a river if he didn't answer.

"Idiot, nothing is wrong so just go away." Lovino huffed, walking over to where his dried clothes were laying. He was so confused about Gilbert and Antonio and everything, and he just needed some time to think about this alone.

Feliciano pouted as he sat outside the door, looking worriedly at the door handle as he wished his brother would actually talk to him. It physically hurt him, knowing that Lovino almost never opened up to him at all. For once he just wished above all that his brother would actually act like his brother again. He missed those moments when he could actually talk about nearly everything with him. He could barely remember last time they had a proper conversation without insulting and yelling from his Lovino's side.

"Please talk to me, fratello…" The younger of the two mumbled low, sighing as he knocked on the door again.

This time Lovino answered by unlocking the door with a glare, making his brother yelp surprised and slightly frightened.

"Talk about what? Antonio? Gilbert? Or how much better you are than me?" Lovino yelled, taking a step against his younger brother. "In case you didn't know, my life will never be as perfect as yours. And do you know what? I'm nothing compared to you, so just keep doing your plight as Italy, because that's what you are. Italy. I fucking hate you, fratello." He lowered his eyes before taking a step forwards towards his brother. "No one will ever love me like they love you. Not Antonio, not Gilbert. No one."

Tears gathered at the edge of Feliciano's eyes as Lovino ran past him, he whimpered at the look his brother had given him. He really didn't understand what he had done to make his brother act like this, he knew he could be pretty stupid at times but he never wanted his brother to be upset nor angry with him. But now…He really hated him didn't he?

As soon as Lovino had managed to get out of that damn house he started running, running for his dear life. He had no idea how long he had been running or where he was going until he tripped, falling hard on his face.

"D-dammit, fucking stupid…" He mumbled low, brushing off his clothes as he got back on his feet. Light green eyes looked around confused, having no idea where he was. He pouted and frowned darkly, he was not scared to be alone in an unfamiliar place at all. Why would he?

Lovino sighed and looked at the pile of snow beside him, he wished Gilbert was here with him…wait, what? Where did that come from? He huffed and kicked a stone, closing his eyes for a moment. He refused to think of either Gilbert or Antonio right now. He unconsciously raised his hand and touched his neck, grimacing as he remembered spotting the oh-so-visible bruises in the mirror. He quickly pulled his collar up, blushing as his thoughts yet again went back to the person responsible for the bruises. Gilbert had been rougher than Antonio, but it wasn't like he really minded it. He rather enjoyed the albino's rougher side than the Spaniard's overprotective-ness. No, he wasn't masochistic, he just…well, liked it.

"Lovi ~!" Speak of the devil, he could even hear Antonio's voice in his head. He narrowed his eyes and was just about to turn around when two arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a hug.

"Lovi! I was so worried that you had gotten hurt in the storm!" Antonio exclaimed and grinned, keeping the same protective grip on him.

"Eh? What the fuck are you doing here?" Lovino glared up at the other, trying to get out of the grip the Spaniard had around him. Antonio just grinned as usually as he continued to hug the shorter nation.

"I was really worried, Lovi. You shouldn't do stuff like that." He pouted, looking down at him. "Where did you go? I was looking everywhere."

The Italian grumbled and glared fiercely at the Spaniard, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

"I don't fucking care what you think! I don't care about you and your stupid thoughts!" Lovino yelled and pushed away from the surprised nation's grip. Antonio blinked down at him, confusion clearly showing on his face.

"What's wrong, Lovi?" He questioned as Lovino backed away a sure half meter, with a glare obviously being sent in his direction.

"What's wrong? You're a fucking cheating bastard and I'm so sick of your stupid lies! Gilbert was right, I do deserve better than you." The Italian looked down, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. "To think that I loved you…." He trailed off, shivering as he noticed he had forgotten his jacket when he left the house.

Just as Antonio was about to walk over to comfort the other nation a pair of arms wrapped themselves around the torso of the Spanish man. Noticing Lovino glaring even more fiercely at someone behind him, he tilted his head in confusion. Before he got the chance to ask who the person behind him was, a certain Frenchman turned him around to place a rather sloppy kiss on his face.

"Now that you two finally split up… we don't have to be secret about this anymore." Francis purred seductively over his shoulder, staring at the Italian.

Antonio blinked confused and tilted his head. "What are you talking about, Francis? He didn't break up with me, did he?" Antonio blinked in shock, turning to look back at Lovino. What met him was the face of a heartbroken Italian.

Tears were streaming down Lovino's face, his eyes staring hopelessly into the cold air. He couldn't even try to describe what he was feeling, even if he tried his hardest. The pain was just too great to even try to describe with words.

"Why should I care anymore? You were never there for me when I needed you…But you know what, it's over!" He yelled out, his voice cracking several times as he tried to keep his sobs back. He took another step backwards, the tears burning on his face as he tried not to look at the man who just broke his heart all over again.

"Lovi, don't be stupid. You don't mean that." Antonio smiled at him, tilting his head as he reached out to touch the Italian man. Francis on the other hand was rolling his eyes at the lack of attention he was getting from the Spaniard, besides he was starting to get sick of the Italian's drama. "Tonio, you should've told him long ago instead of doing this to him, you know."

"Tonio." Lovino gritted his teeth, his voice sounding hoarse and cold. "It's over...It's over?" He breathed out with a sob caught in his throat. With that, the Italian man turned on his heel and started running. Where he was going, he did not know. He just had to get out of here, away from everything. Tears were again running down his face, blurring his vision to the point he just gave up and slumped to the ground. He gasped after air as the tears seemed to be a never ending river of pain, which only seemed to make matters worse. Never in his whole life as a nation had he ever felt this kind of pain. Sure, his feelings had been hurt before, but it was nothing compared to the pain that was currently eating him from the inside.

He put his fingers over his chest, feeling the cold seeping into his very being as he let out a soundless sob. He had never imagined it to hurt like this, even though he very well knew the day would come when the spainiard would finally come clean and admit he was tired of him. He knew it, but he still wasn't prepared for it. All those years and the memories he'd spent with Antonio came crushing down on him, and he didn't know how he was supposed to deal with this kind of pain. He'd known for years that staying with Antonio was a mistake, but still, he never managed to grasp the concept of not having those damn fluffy moments with the Spanish music and the dancing and…No, he couldn't think of this right now. There was a reason he had ran away from him, there was a reason why he had come crying to Gilbert for comfort. Antonio had loved him and made him happy, but he had also hurt him and destroyed him more than any other person he knew.

That's why he gone to Gilbert. Gilbert never intended to destroy him, he only wanted to know he was loved and deep down…Gilbert knew what kind of pain Antonio had inflicted on the Italian. He had seen right through him, and he had never realized it. He called Antonio a blind asshole, but he surely wasn't such a fucking saint himself either. His nails was digging into his skin as it felt like his heart was getting ripped out of his ribcage, the pain being unbearable as a soundless sob once again escaped his throat. How had he not noticed this? How could he have been so blind? Had his false hope and illusion of Antonio suddenly changing his mind really made him this oblivious to the things outside his own little bubble? What kind of person had he become? A low whimper escaped him as the realization hit him, and it surely hit him hard.

"Gilbert…" He mumbled under his breath, drying his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater before falling face first into the snow, not caring anymore how cold and painful it was.

"Gilbert…"