Red Thread

A red thread connecting our pinky fingers. A promise of a destiny shared forever.

Warnings: Death(s)

.::.

Lovino Vargas is dead.

Those words pierced Antonio's heart like a thousand needles dipped in fire, etching a hole in him that will remain empty forever. His lover, his beloved, his world and his everything, in a snap went crumbling down until nothing was left but the hollowness in his stomach. The unspoken goodbye, the 'I love you's he's yet to tell and the vow to stay together, all meaningless now.

Lovino Vargas is dead. Why can't Antonio die as well?

.::.

It has been one month since the unfortunate accident which claimed the Italian's life. He had been so lively the day before, scratch that, moments before. He had been complaining about trivial things as usual, swearing angrily as usual, frowning deeply as usual... No hint of impending death whatsoever. And the person with him, his boyfriend, was also cooing and fussing at the Italian like he always do. If he had known better, he wouldn't have paused his tracks and asked the Italian to wait for him in the corner while he made a detour and bought some flowers for his lover. Flowers only to be given later at his funeral.

He wouldn't have let go of that hand he was holding. He wouldn't have released those fingers intertwined. He wouldn't have ever lose the grip to the only person he needs to be alive.

But he wouldn't have known, he wouldn't have expected that a drunk driver (which unfortunately managed to escape... If Antonio would ever get a hold of him, he would make sure that he'll kill the bastard as well, in the most painful way he could) would crash on the corner, on the very spot that his beloved was standing, also unaware that he would be dying right then and there, his beautiful body broken the worst way possible. It was so unfair, he didn't deserve any of that! Yet the Spaniard couldn't help but blame himself because if it weren't for him, Lovino wouldn't be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was all his fault.

Every night for the past month, Antonio was haunted by nightmares of that evening. What if I didn't let go? What if I didn't get the flowers? What if I didn't ask him to wait there? All these what ifs and the could have beens that would have followed, repeatedly, going round his dreams only to wake up in a more dreadful nightmare... The reality where Lovino wasn't there.

His dreams will always be the same. Lovino was at that corner and he will be waiting for Antonio. He would call the Spaniard as he gets out of the flower shop and Antonio would run to the Italian. Lovino would say something but the Spaniard can't hear is as everything turns suddenly white and he would hear the screech of the approaching car. And then he would wake up, wishing he hadn't.

He should have died with Lovino back then. It would have made him happier, instead of continue living where breathing became a tiring responsibility because the reason to do so is gone.

.::.

"Don't be like that, Antonie," Bella would always say. "Lovino wouldn't want that."

The Belgian had been visiting him faithfully since the wake, urging him to eat, urging him to continue suffering in his damned life.

"What do you know about what Lovino likes? Nothing! You don't know how we promised to stay together forever!"

With that uncalculated snarl, the blonde would wilt and leave, saying that she'll be back the next day. Antonio was tired of telling her not to. She never listens.

They promised to stay together forever.

.::.

It was on their first anniversary.

They decided to have a romantic dinner to celebrate and after eating, the Spaniard kneeled before him, and asked him to close his eyes.

"And may I take your hand?" Antonio asked.

"What are trying to pull, bastard?" Lovino grumbled while offering his hand nonetheless. He felt something wrapped around his littlest finger. Was it a ring?

"You can open your eyes now, mi querido."

Which Lovino complied. He stared blankly at the red string now attached on his pinky, tracing the thread and found that it was connected to Antonio's.

"A string," the Italian said dully.

"Yep!" was the Spaniard's overenthusiastic response.

"Not a ring. A string," Lovino raised his eyebrow.

"Oh! Don't you know, Lovi? This is our red thread of destiny! I heard from Kiku that in Japan, they have this myth saying that everyone has a red string attached on their pinky, connecting them to their soul mate!" he explained excitedly.

The Italian removed his frown. "So, this means we're connected to each other now?"

"Si!"

"And we will be together forever?"

"Definitely!"

The younger brunette let out a smile. "I like it."

They promised to be together forever.

They cannot keep that promise now.

.::.

Antonio looked for the thread. He was the one who got to keep it since he was actually the neater between the two of them. He want to see it again, to relive the memory of that time. The gentle smiles, mild caresses, tender kisses and the soft warmth they shared throughout that night. One more time, let him remember... Let him linger one more time.

"Where..."

.::.

It's unusual for Antonio to lose his things, having a few and all.

It was their third anniversary.

"Lovino!" he yelled breathlessly at the unsuspecting Italian. "I can't find that pants from Francis..."

Lovino visibly flinched uncomfortably. "So what? It's not like I took it and put it away..."

"Lovino!"

Whenever he can't find one of his things, his boyfriend is usually the culprit. Lovino would often hide Francis's and Gilbert's gifts for him for some reasons about being lewd and inappropriate.

.::.

Antonio still can't find the thread.

Did you hide them from me, mi amor?

.::.

While trying to look for that special thread, Antonio found more things that remind him of the Italian. A tomato plusie, the photo album of their beach adventure, some unused movie tickets because it was from Gilbert and therefore German, turtle printed PJs... Every single thing containing a fond memory of his love. He kept them so that in the future, he could take all of them out, show it to Lovino and together, both of them will remember up to the smallest bit of trivial memory each item carries... Like how Lovino got scratched by his cat Romano when the furball got kicked out of the tomato plushie, how the two of them got stranded in a cave back in that beach adventure, how Lovino attempted to tear the movie tickets into gazillion pieces when he realized that it was from Gilbert and how he blushed madly when he presented those PJs as his Christmas gift for Antonio. He never thought that he'd do that recalling all alone.

Is this why you hide the thread, mi corazon? So I would find all these things and look back?

What are you talking about bastard? You do those things on your own, moron. Yeah, Lovino would say that while blushing madly.

Despite his tears, Antonio couldn't help but smile.

.::.

"Antonio... It's no use," Bella said pleadingly. "He'll never come back..."

No. I don't want to hear it.

"He's gone. He's in a better place now..." she sobbed.

No. Stop. Stop!

"Please move on now, Antonie... Please," she begged.

I can't. I won't. Never!

"I love you... Please love me instead..."

.::.

Two months after Lovino's death.

For the first time, Antonio went outside the confines of their house. His house... The very house where they had lived together and created their story... The very house where every corner reminds him of Lovino very dearly. As he stepped outside, yet another image of Lovino flashed in his eyes.

A very lonely Lovino.

.::.

Bella was pacing in and out of her bathroom for quite a while now. Antonio is coming over! Finally, after two months of trying to make him forget and being always there for him... At last Antonio listened to her feelings for him...

.::.

Antonio passed by a flower shop... The very flower shop he went to on the night that... That Lovino died. He dragged himself in and brought some appropriate flowers for Bella. Flowers of apology.

.::.

The lights on Bella's apartment suddenly went out, but lit up again at once. She shrugged and continued putting on lipstick. However, he saw that the tip looks like it was used to write on some surface. But whatever, someone might be pulling pranks at her.

When she set eyes on her reflection, she screamed.

In an instant, her brother came to her aid. He saw his sister, though seemed unharmed, sitting on the floor and looking at the mirror. He also glanced at the glass and saw written in red letters:

Antonio is mine.

Mine.

MINE!

Stay away, you bitch!

And then more words were written with the same red lipstick.

From the Italian that you killed.

.::.

"Antonio."

That voice... He couldn't mistake it anywhere. He glanced at the source, and saw Lovino waving at him, a red thread tied in his pinky. Antonio felt a slight tug in his own hand and saw that the read thread is also wrapped around his little finger.

He found the thread. Ahh, he was right. Lovino hid it all along.

Is this a dream? His heart felt so light and happy... Happiest for the longest time! Lovino is there, asking him to come over, which he happily complied, following the pull on his pinky.

"I've been waiting for you."

SCREECH-!

Now we're together once again. This time, definitely forever.

.::.

Epilogue

After a testimony from an unnamed witness, Bella's brother was charged for reckless imprudence resulting to homicide. He paid the fine and was bailed out, though his driver's license was terminated for a period of time.

As for the second driver who killed a Spaniard, there was no information about him.

The corner was considered as a dangerous spot from then on, after claiming two lives in two months. The authorities placed sign boards to remind the pedestrians and drivers to be careful. Long time passed on and the sign boards were demolished by the winds and hurricanes that devastated the city and no one bothered to reattach the signboards. Fortunately, no other casualty was reported up to date.

Nobody but their closest friends knew the connection between the two victims. The media wasn't able to take a hold of those close friends anyways since they all want to mourn in private.

One week after Antonio's death, Kiku was found lurking at the crash site, walking with a sullen Hungarian.

"It was really a pity for those two... And Bella... She was also very hurt by all of this," Elizabeta cried. She glanced sadly at her Japanese friend only to find him looking gravely at the post on the area. He suddenly grabbed something from there.

"Kiku?"

"Gomen... It was nothing," the Asian said dismissively, hiding his hands in his back.

The two of them continued their walk. Looking closely, there was a red thread in one of Kiku's hand.

Fin

.::.

Even though I put this as tragedy, I don't actually find this tragic at all since Lovino and Antonio still end up together. But meeeehhhh...