Ludwig had to resist the urge to shout out when the loud screech of the block D cell doors sliding open across the concrete floor wracked through his skull and awoke him from his restless sleep. As if he hadn't struggled and battled enough for hours on end to get to sleep in the first place without being awoken so obnoxiously at such an ungodly hour after less than fifteen minutes of sleep. The German grit his teeth as he swore and hissed into his pillow but it died down as quickly as it had arisen. He was far too dismal and depressed to sustain any anger at his predicament at the moment; if he was perfectly honest with himself, Ludwig couldn't even remember what happiness felt like.
This only made his scenario that much more unbearable to endure. The fact that Ludwig could not regenerate those feelings that had engulfed him just one month ago when his true love had been crying in his arms, kissing him and holding him, telling him over and over again how much he loved him. It was happiest he could ever remember being, in those few minutes before Arthur's news had brought a storm cloud over their hearts he had been the luckiest man alive. Ludwig knew he didn't deserve love, and in no way did he deserve it from a man like Feliciano...but somehow he'd done it, against all odds and his own judgement he had captured the man's love, and he knew he would never be able to feel that way again.
But the most devastating realisation was the startling familiarity it all was to how he was feeling five years ago when he had first arrived at the prison. The excruciating pain in his chest and his inability to move, without it being an absolute necessity to staying alive that is, was miraculously similar to the pain he had felt for almost an entire year after Gilbert's death...until he'd managed to transfer his deep sadness and depression into raging anger and a hostile attitude to all those around him of course.
Thinking back on that bleak time Ludwig was dumbfounded as to how he'd been able to get over his brother's death when it hurt so unbelievably much. He knew he was making himself vulnerable inside; twice since Feliciano had left he'd been ambushed in the prison and had struggled to defend himself. The other inmates could sense it, his weakness; he was becoming an easy target. Ludwig's fragile heart was turning him back into that scared young man he had been five years ago, tearful and afraid, quiet and meek...only now he wasn't determined, he didn't care what happened to him, he'd lost all persistence to fight back.
His cell hadn't since been occupied by a new inhabitant. It wasn't like before when the prison were wary of permitting a new one to his cell due to Ludwig's insistent hatred of company and inflicting harm on those who had, in the past, attempted to bunk with him. Now it seemed that they were keeping him alone out of sympathy, or perhaps even pity, at the loss of his Feliciano. In a way Ludwig resented this, but knew deep down that he was thankful for the solitude they'd left him in. Even Arthur had been keeping his distance, but then again what was he to say to the man? For the past month they'd maybe spoken a few words to each other and neither seemed willing to try and rebuild their friendship after what had happened.
The only man Ludwig could think of possibly bringing himself out of his desolation for in order to harm was Johan. Even though he felt incapable of anger with this deep sadness immersing him he was sure he could manage it for that son of a bitch. But rumours were that Johan had been transferred to another prison for his own protection, or possibly a mental institution for trying to slaughter Feliciano, and the German had not laid eyes on him since he'd beaten him to a pulp in the storage room. Ludwig was sure that had he been his normal self he would have been outraged that he wasn't able to give the man another taste of his own medicine; these were different circumstances however, and he was depressed and unable to do much else but cry silently into his pillow as he thought about Feliciano, safe and sound on the outside, unable to be with him.
The German heard the familiar sound of a key in a lock and his own cell door sliding open but he didn't move from his bunk. Recently he'd taken to just staying in his cell for days at a time and not eating or going out into the courtyard; he was certain if it hadn't been Arthur who was in charge of his block he'd have been punished for this behaviour already. However that morning Arthur had actually stepped into the cell and was speaking to him, he sounded cheery and upbeat, he hadn't heard the man sound this way for weeks.
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Shades of Innocence (A GerIta FanFic)
Romance*This story does not belong to me in any way. This story is owned by Henrietta R. Hippo on FanFiction.net* Feliciano Vargas was just a man in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sent down for a crime he didn't commit; Italy meets and falls for a Germ...