Rating: T
Warnings: Language, death

This is the final chapter for this story. Yes, after almost two years, there's finally a sequel.

Thank you to everyone who waited!

It's funny how, when something tragic happens, the world seems to echo it exactly. For example... today. The usually deep shade of blue that carried along an aura of happiness with it had faded into nothing more than a memory. It was instead replaced by a haunting gray, coating the entire town in a fearful haze they just couldn't escape. The only clouds in the sky were charcoal, the sadness of the entire day dripping down with a sheen that almost... hurt. The raindrops were almost painful, and as each broke against the surfaces they eventually hit, their cries of deathly anguish rose from them like smoke into the ears of everyone.

That day was the quietest anyone had witnessed in quite a long time. No cars roamed the streets, splashing puddles onto bystanders passing down the cities. Pedestrians didn't wave to cars as they crossed the street in a simple jog. The parks were empty. Families in houses shut their blinds and snapped on their fireplace. No children giggled with a happiness that couldn't be broken. No infants dared to cry.

The cemetery contained the only life that seemed to exist, which wasn't much. Figures dressed in shadowy black, carrying tissues, flowers, and anything else they could spread around to the deceased stood gathered under a single tree, avoiding the wetness that threatened to splash over them. Witnesses had already begun to morph with the background, either heading on their way home or paying visits to those that had had the unfortune to join other members in this place.

One man stood unmoving. His messy, poorly styled hair hung in his eyes, shading his face from the looks of others. His hands hung weakly by his side, as he hunched. He was the one people tried to avoid. Those who thought of asking if he was alright quickly took it back. He was like the shadow that threatened to consume all in its path. The ghost.

The man's green eyes never once opened. He never once looked up to the stone placed in front of him, the engravings deeply etched. He knew what they'd say.

"Here lies Lovino M. Vargas.

Dear brother and friend."

It seemed cruel. Cruel that's all he would ever be known as. A distant memory to those who knew him, and another name placed among hundreds to those who didn't. How could someone like Lovino deserve that kind of fate?

These thoughts passed through Antonio's head like liquid fire. His body hurt. His eyes began to sting. He couldn't feel his legs. Sorrow spread through his limbs, starting in the pit of his stomach. It was a terrible, terrible wave that left him weak. Unable to support himself, without making a sound, he let himself give in, sliding to the brown grass that had grown wildly for years. It enveloped him, all the way up to his knees.

He collapsed in on himself, just wishing the pain from his head. He so desperately wanted to forget. He wanted to hide from this... He needed to help himself. But... how could he forget Lovino? Couldn't he do this last favor for him... keep him alive... even if...

Antonio tipped, splashing into the mud and muck gathering at his sides. He had no energy to move.

He lay for hours, disguised by the earth slowly coating him from head-to-toe. He didn't notice the water sinking into his clothing, turning his skin red from the immense cold. The grieving man could only sob silently, his tears rolling down across his skin. They were hot, and warmed his cheeks as they passed over, before resuming their fate of mixing into the ground below.

This continued on until night broke. The sun had dipped behind the far off mountains, leaving the world to be washed in star-light. The moon shone bright overhead. The rain, however, never stopped. Eventually, Antonio had run out of tears, and lie shivering in the night, his throat feeling as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper. The man slowly shifted, rolling onto his back until it flopped. His eyelids slid open, blinking against the droplets that hit his face. He watched the clouds and moon dance lazily across the sky, rotating around the dark, quiet city.

And in those few moments, he realized a part of him was gone.

Even if Lovino was the one buried...

Antonio knew he was the one who was really dead.

"Lovino, I'm so sorry!"

Antonio's fingers were coated in a liquid red, staining his skin with the pain of the corpse in his arms. He felt he couldn't breathe. In a fit, he held the other close to him, burying his face among the fabric that clothed him. "Lo siento..." His hands clenched tighter as he felt the racking torture of this all absorb into him. "I'm so sorry, Lovi.. I'm so, so sorry... come back... please..."

The Spaniard had already called for help the second he'd stepped foot into the lonely apartment. It was odd enough all the lights were off, but the fact Lovino wasn't home? No one had seen him around. He refused to answer his phone. Naturally, Antonio would go out to find him for Feliciano. It caused the twin too much worry.

But seeing Lovino lying on the ground, helpless... looking like a discarded toy... was the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen.

"Lovino I... I didn't know... I didn't know!" His throat hurt. He felt dizzy. The ring he had picked up was easily recognizable, even covered in blood. He knew exactly what it was. "If I had known... that I wasn't the only one waiting... I..." His arms wrapped tighter around him, his voice disappearing in an instant. "I would have loved you forever... Lovino, te amo!

That morning came and went, without Antonio even knowing. The day after Lovino's funeral had slightly turned back to normal, as the rain had cleared, and small patches of blue poked through the dank blanket. Antonio awoke to a mellow sun casting very little rays through the oaks nearby. He rubbed his eyes a few times, relieving them of the sleep covering his eyelashes. His entire body was stiff from never moving, and his clothes had dried into the mud. He felt like utter shit, however...he needed to do one other thing.

It took around a minute, but he succeeded in forcing himself into a sitting position. His head spun as he calmed himself. Despite this, he continued on and reached inside his jacket. His hand drew out seconds later, retrieving a small piece of paper with it. As soon as he had uncrumpled it, Antonio took in a deep breath. He struggled to push his weight onto a knee, almost falling flat on his face. He scooted his foot back inches, wobbling, but upright in a kneeling position.

"Lovi...~" He muttered, forcing a grin on his face, as though the other was standing in front of him.

If he just closed his eyes, he could imagine the slender man there. Hands on his hips, raising an expecting, impatient brow. "What do you want?" He seemed to say, though his words were very faint and far off.

"Well... we've known each other for a long time..." He began, taking in a deep breath as he spoke. "And...And everyday I can't stop thinking about you. Ever since I've first met you, I've been enchanted by the idea of you. You're great, Lovi. You're cute, caring, and the most beautiful person I've ever met. Even if you don't like me saying that... it's true!" He felt the imagine in front of him really coming alive. The sweet Italian's eyes blinked in astonishment and he was speechless. His face had already become a dark shade of red.

"Lovi,it wasn't just talk. I... I made a promise. That you would be my wife someday. Feliciano and I called off the wedding. He couldn't go through with it once I admitted to him that... I was in love with you. That he was just... a way for me to feel like I'm connected to my dear tomate~... and, if you'd still have me..." He glanced down to the ring in his hand, eyes opening softly. And suddenly it was gone. The imagine of Lovino that had seemed so real had been replaced by a dreary, mid-morning scene, and the happiness that had echoed through him was replaced by a dull ache of the heart. He remembered exactly what had happened.

Sighing heavily to avoid any more tears, he stood, attempting to brush dried bits of dirt and mud off, but it was too caked in. It'd never come out. Antonio rolled his neck, working out his muscles so he'd have the ability to walk. His hand with the ring felt heavy. He gave on last squeeze to the cheap, plastic piece that had much more meaning than he'd ever thought. It didn't only symbolize his promise he'd made all those years ago... It showed his eternal dedication to this 19 year old boy he'd never hear the answer of. "Lovi... would you do the honour of marrying me?" He whispered. He crouched, placing the ring delicately on top of the wet stone.

Antonio took his time getting out of the cemetery. After the night he'd spent thinking about Lovino, and the fact he'd finally gotten to ask what he'd been meaning to for years, he felt a sort of closure. Even if Lovino was never going to come back, Antonio could hold onto his feelings towards him as an anchor, until the day they met again, and had their dreamy, big wedding in the sky. The one they talked about as kids.

If only he'd stayed a bit longer. Maybe he'd have seen the small, messy, but readable carving etched into the grave, right next to the ring.

I do.