**The moral of the story is to keep your friends close, even when they're not in the best of moods, because you just might lose them; whether it be hours from now, or seconds.

It was a simple saying; I'm sorry.

It was a phrase that was commonly used in the Carriedo household, whether it was to apologize for something that he had done himself or if it was to appease his little Lovino's feelings; most likely for something the Italian had done to Antonio and he had to apologize for his own arm being punched or for being called an asshole...Which made no sense. But the Italian usually forgave him and they moved on with their lives. This time was a little different though. Lovino was in a terrible mood when he arrived home, especially when the sight of Antonio caught his eye. Of course, at the time, Lovino had been living with Antonio because Feliciano had taken Ludwig into their house, and Lovi wasn't about to sit there and listen to that bastard all day.

He wasn't sure if it was jealousy, or if it was something else...Probably the jealousy. Lately, Lovino had been feeling alone. He had Antonio, sure, but that didn't stop the odd feeling of sickness that weighed down his body. That damned potato eater really seemed to love his brother, and who wouldn't? Feli was always way better at everything than Lovi was. And that above everything else was tugging on the poor boy's heart. The second thought that killed him? His love for the Spanish man; the man that had taken back over his duty to watch and care for the Italian.

Lovino wasn't very good at expressing his feelings, so when Antonio greeted him at the door with open arms and a bright smile, he jabbed his ribs with a sharp elbow, shoving the Spaniard out of the way, screaming insults at him before running up the stairs, feeling his legs start to shake. Why couldn't he just tell him how he felt? That surely would have been better than forcing himself into a depression all the time. Maybe it was because he was sure that Antonio loved someone other than him. How could anyone possibly love him? He was rude, depressed all the time...And whenever the man actually managed a little smile, it was killed by a passerby who happened to wave hi to Antonio when they were out walking. He knew that his emotions confused Antonio, but he didn't know how to explain himself.

Antonio, on the other hand, wasn't expecting the reaction he received from the Italian on his way through the door. Following after him, rubbing his ribs, he forced on a smile, trying to keep his cool. It hadn't been the best of days for the Spaniard either, and the thought of screaming right back at him seemed appropriate.

"Lovi, welcome home~! Que Paso?" He asked softly, watching the Italian spin around on his heel and give him a silent glare before returning to his journey up the stairs, clenching his fists. This made Antonio bite into his lip. He was doing everything he possibly could to keep from yelling at the man. He didn't want to put him in a worse mood, but Antonio could only take so much before just exploding with swears and hurtful words.

"I don't'a want to talk to you. Leave'a me alone." Lovino shot back to his cheerful question, causing Toni to breathe out slowly, thinking about the possibilities of eating churros and cuddling the Italian later if he just apologized and got it over with.

"Lo siento. I'm sorry. Can you tell me what I did, por favor?" He asked, reaching the top of the staircase and rounding the corner to the Italian's bedroom, where he nearly had the door slammed in his face. That was the last straw...If Lovino didn't open up to him now-.

"Apologize to me again and I'll'a shove you down the god damned stairs. Not everything is about'a you! Apologizing never did anyone any'a good!"

Desperately trying to hold himself back, Toni's arms shook in rage before he lunged at Lovino, throwing him up against the wall so the boy couldn't move and he could have time himself to think. What could he do now? He would never hit him...But he was so angry!

"Get off'a me! Stupid! I'll'a make sure you pay for this! I'a hate you!"

Digging his nails into the palm of his own hand, Antonio clenched his jaw as the insults continued, getting worse and worse, ranging from how Lovino would never care about him, to the fact Lovino was sick of being near him. Finally, Antonio forced his rough, calloused had upon Lovino's lips, silencing the room. Green eyes hardened as they locked with the amber ones. Lovino actually looked frightened. And so he should.

"I am /sick/. So, so /sick/...Of everything you've had to say as of late, mi amor. I can handle the punch to my arm, the bruises. Hey, sometimes even the yelling and insults. No me gustas ahora...I don't like you right now at /all/. So I would suggest you change your attitude or get the /hell/ out of my house, /Romano/." Shoving himself away from the shaking boy, he gritted his teeth. He had to get away from him before he slammed his fist into the wall, or ripped out all of Lovino's hair strand by strand. But the fighting didn't stop.

"I would be'a glad to leave! Believe me! I don't'a like you just as much as the next guy!" He yelled, pushing himself away from the wall as well. Giving the Spaniard's chest a heavy shove, Lovino left the room, screaming all the way to the stairs. "I'a hate you! I don't'a care about what happens to you. Maybe you'll drink'a yourself to death tonight when you go out'a with that stupid group of yours!" Clenching his jaw to keep from crying, Lovino thought back to the last time Antonio went out with his so called, "Bad Touch Trio."

They had gotten into a lot of trouble, and Lovino had been left to fend for himself at home. It wasn't like the Italian had any friends of his own, not counting Feli. Antonio received a black eye from a drunken man, and the other two ran off somewhere to leave Toni passed out in the middle of an alleyway. He was lucky that Lovino had begun panicking about him and went out to search for him. And it wasn't like Lovino had enough strength to pull the unconscious man back to his house...So Lovino picked up a broken glass bottle and sat down in the middle of the dark alley with the Spaniard pulled in his lap, staying up the rest of that night to protect him. Though, the next day, he denied the whole thing.

But, the Spaniard was now broken. Hearing those words come from Lovino's mouth made the man so furious...So hateful..He said something that he never should have.

"Where are you going? You have no where, Lovi. Feliciano has Ludwig. Everyone has someone except for you, amor. You're lucky I haven't dumped you yet...That is, until now." Stepping closer, Antonio grabbed the sleeve of Lovi's shirt, forcing him to look into his eyes so he would know that he was serious.

"When you leave...Do /not/ come back. And when I find your body on the street...I'll be sure to send it back to Feliciano for you. ¿Entiendes?"

Lovino took a couple of steps back, tears welling in his eyes as he turned, dashing down the stairs, not wanting to ever look back. He could make his own life now...He didn't need that stupid bastard...

Forcing open the door, the Italian staggered outside. Rain. Lovely. That was just the perfect ending to the story. The sky was foggy, the air chilly and painful against the smooth porcelain skin presented to it. What could he do now? Was it really the end? No, the Spaniard would take him back into his arms like he always did..He was too weak to never see him again...He hoped.

Antonio slammed his hand against the wall, something he wanted to keep from happening. Creating a decent sized hole, Toni stared at it with satisfaction, gritting his teeth together, listening to them grind and squeak. Why couldn't Lovino be simple? Why did he always have to shove Antonio away? Antonio just wanted to protect him, and because of his own temper, he ended up shoving the idiot out! In the rain too...

No, he wouldn't feel sorry for him. Lovino needed to learn that he couldn't always get what he wanted by yelling at people. That was why he didn't have any friends. No one wanted to constantly be yelled at and the only reason Antonio put up with it was because he had feelings towards the man. Everyone always called Toni oblivious, but how incompetent could someone be to not understand how much they were loved by another? Did Lovino really not understand that Antonio would die for him? Obviously not, or he wouldn't scream at him all the time. But then again, Antonio thought Lovi yelled at him because the boy had feelings towards him. He could be completely wrong. That wouldn't surprise him..

With a sigh, Antonio felt himself calm down now that his knuckles bled and stung, a sick, satisfying feeling taking over his body. Maybe it cancelled out the mental and emotional pain that swarmed his mind. Brushing his hands through his hair, Antonio straightened up his back, posture returning to the state of which it was usually in as he walked over to the window, fingers wiping off the thick fog that had build up on the glass so he could try and find Lovino.

Lifting the window up as he saw the stumbling Italian, Antonio's eyes shot over to a couple of bright lights that shone through the thick air, their beams hitting Lovino. Fear built up inside the Spaniard's chest, but the words seemed to block his throat and he was unable to say anything.

"R-R...Romano!" Antonio's voice filled the air as the sound of tires screeching and a stomach turning crunch cut him off halfway, leaving a smoke storm surrounding the body of his beloved. Listening to the squealing of the tires as the car took off, Antonio figured they obviously drove away in fear of having hit /his/ Italian.

Nearly throwing himself down the stairs to reach the ground floor, Antonio slid down onto his knees as he approached the broken body of the man he had kicked out, his throat crowded by a large lump that caused him to cry. Dragging the Italian to the side of the road, Toni dialed for an ambulance, setting his phone into the wet grass afterwards so he could use both of his arms to wrap around the boy's body, wanting to keep him as close and warm as possible.

"Lovino.." He whispered by his ear, using his fingers to brush the stray strands of hair away from his closed eyes. Lovino looked so...Dead. Antonio checked for a pulse. It felt as though he almost was.

"Por favor...Open your eyes," He tried, gently rocking him back and forth, sobbing uncontrollably. Why hadn't he just kept himself calm? Lovino would have been safe and in his arms... Instead, Lovino was broken and in his arms. That was the last thing he ever wanted...

Finally, lidded eyes pulled open, granting Antonio the opportunity to see those beautiful amber orbs one final time. Lovino smiled, melting Antonio's heart. How could he possibly smile at a time like this? It was the rare occasion when Lovino gave a real smile too..

Choking on words he longed to say, wanting to scream that the Italian was stupid for leaving, and that he, himself was an idiot for ever letting him go. And as soon as that fragile and bruised face fell to the side, Antonio screamed it.

"Te quiero! Don't you dare die on me, Romano! I love you. I always have! I never should have let you go...Please forgive me...Por favor, amor.. Te quiero..." He sobbed, shaking the man's body to try and wake him up, though, Lovino was halfway dead, as he noted first thing when he got there.

But Lovino managed to roll his head back to where it was facing Spain's, his hands clutching the man's shirt, unable to keep his eyes open for long periods of time. "Idiota.. You'a... let me leave.. I thought you'a cared..." He muttered, feeling himself lose consciousness. He didn't want to go like this...No. He wanted to admit his feelings...He had to...

"Ti amo.. It'a wasn't your fault..." He whispered, puckering up his lips, trying to lift his face to Toni's. Antonio quickly leaned over, pressing several kisses to Lovino's dry lips, generously giving him exactly what he wanted.

"Por favor..I am begging you...Keep your eyes open..." He whispered, holding the crushed fingers of the other in the palm of his hand. Those eyes only closed further, leaving Antonio to shake the shoulder's of the motionless body. Sputtering out more useless words, Antonio slammed his already bloody hand against the cement repeatedly, the pain not able to replace the agony in his chest. It was like a knife that dug it's way under his rips, and gouged into his heart. He would forever bleed on the inside, knowing that his Italian was dying in his own hands.

Blood staining the auburn locks of the Italian, Antonio continued to run his fingers through his hair, hoping that in someway it would help...But Lovino was no longer moving. His hands no longer shaking...His breath no longer hitching. He was no longer in pain...Lovino died and had practically taken Antonio with him. The former pirate was no longer crying. He could only stare at the still body, petting his hair, all of his limbs numb from the pain coursing through his veins. It was far worse than any physical pain he could ever feel. And to think...He had lost it all in just seconds.