White Flag

Run

Feliciano walked down the street he had seen all of his life. That cracked Italian road in Rome. His brother lived here, he would know what to do. His grandfather had walked this path as well. Nowadays, it was filled with dark alleyways with rapists, murderers and robbers. Feliciano was no longer afraid of them. No more did he run down this road, afraid for his life.
He was too filled with rage to be afraid anymore.
All fear had ultimately left him. For the time being, at least.
Feliciano knocked on his brother Lovino's door. After no answer, he shouted in. "It's me, fratello--Feliciano?" The door creaked open, and Feliciano saw an amber eye peek out.
The door then swung open and Lovino embraced his fratello for the first time in months.
"I'm sorry, Feli," his voice showed emotion, but not much. He did feel bad for his little brother, although he refused to show it.
"Can I come in?" Feliciano's voice cracked. He hadn't spoken in a while. Lovino pulled away from the hug, pursing his lips, and nodded.

They sat down on the worn out couches surrounded by trash. They were both laughing. The room felt happy. It was a quiet happy. A nice happy.
"Remember when nonno gave me this knife? I hope he doesn't have that scar anymore," Lovino snorted. Feliciano laughed. Grandpa Roma had given Lovino a small but handy pocketknife when he was very little. Lovino was still young and cranky, so he threw it down in a fit and it landed on Roma's foot, causing a rush to the emergency room and a lot of blood. Roma was laughing the entire time, even while they stitched his foot back together. Feliciano was a little bouncing newborn, incapable of telling what was happening, so he laughed too.
"So about this German..." Lovino switched the subject.
Feliciano stopped laughing.
"You know what happened."
"Well, yes. It's ironic, isn't it?"
"What?"
"To die in a church. It's awful."
"Yes. It's really--"
Feliciano froze.
"Um, Feli? Are you alright?"
"How did you know he died in a church?"
"Antonio told me."
"I didn't tell Antonio." Feliciano spat.
"Feliciano, you're b-being ridiculous. Stop being so critical." As he said this, he made a flicking hand motion and as a result, the knife went flying across the space in between the brothers and in front of Feliciano's feet.
"How could you, fratello?" Feliciano was crying. His face contorted with that familiar emotion--rage.
It's you again. One half of Feliciano mocked.
Shut up. He killed Ludwig. He killed him. Do it, fool, do it. The other half yelled.

Feliciano picked up the knife.
He lunged at his older brother with a monstrous scream. Lovino held up an arm and held Feli back. He looked up at his younger brother with tears in his eyes, his grasp on him weakening. Feliciano was closing in. "I didn't do it, Feli. I didn't--"
"WHOOPS!" Feliciano broke his brother's grip and stabbed him in the heart. Then he stomped backwards, blood on his hands. Lovino was dead. Feli started laughing. The kind of laughing that you'd hear in horror movies. A cackle, perhaps. He couldn't stop laughing. He stopped, for a moment, only to hear the police car sirens getting louder and louder. Lovino's neighbor must have called the police. Damn.
Feliciano did the only thing he was good at.
He ran.