Someone To Lean On

Don't Listen

There they are again.

He was just tired of all the insults. He was just tired of all the judgements. He was tired of everything. Why can't he just be at peace for a second? All he needed is a break, but the world seems to hate him so much that it's pushing him to the edge.

He had considered suicide. But by the mere thought of it, he cringed and thought about some people. How about his younger brother? What if someone bullied him? What if he was getting fucked around, or has tainted him somehow? What if someone broke his heart? He also thought about his youngest brother, though he knew that the toddler is in good hands. But then, how about his grandfather? Wouldn't he be hurt, losing one of his beloved grandsons?

He shook his head as he fought off a bitter laugh. Of course not. He already got tired of him when the middle brother was born, and he can't blame the old man. Yes, he loves his grandfather but he just can't help but to be hurt. Well, who wouldn't? After all, he was forgotten. He was just a shadow behind his brothers.

Who would love a rude, selfish, lazy, foul mouthed, and good-for-nothing boy?

"Lovino," a voice called out to him, and he looked up at the source. His vision was blurry, and his cheeks were wet. What happened?

"Lovino," it called out again, this time it sounds closer and a familiar figure stood before him. The figure has somewhat curly brown hair, green eyes, and lightly tanned skin. His normally cheerful face was contorted with worry and concern. Lovino could feel his heart beat fast looking at him, but it beat faster when the boy wiped his cheeks.

"Lovino," he said his name again for the third time, placing his hands over the younger's ears. Lovino's eyes widened. The older smiled warmly.

"Don't listen to them." The Spaniard mouthed, as he kissed the Italian's forehead. The latter put his hands over the former's, as fresh tears dripped down his cheeks.

"Thank you, Antonio."

Maybe Antonio is right.