Putting Back the Pieces (Lovino)

(Please note: This is a FLASHBACK post)

Feliciano sighed, leaning out over the railing on the small balcony attached to what he supposed he should start thinking of as his home. His things were still in boxes, littered around the tiny space, and save for his bed and a few essential kitchen items nothing had been unpacked. It was... lonely. The world was suddenly so much bigger then it had ever been before, without his Nonno next to him every step of the way.

...and so much smaller, too. Suddenly his whole life had shrunk to this apartment. This apartment and these few boxes. How could such a small thing be so terrifying?

Still, he supposed that it wouldn't be for too long. This would become home - and hadn't he been excited to come here a week ago? Where had that enthusiasm fled to? What had become of the thrill of starting out, really starting out, on his own? He was sure it would return, in good order. But right now he was very small, and very alone, in a giant city.

Funny, that the thing that terrified him the most would come in the form of his salvation from said loneliness: His brother. His brother who he'd only recently started speaking to again. His brother who had been lost to him for years, the whole middle of his life, just gone. And to think that he would suddenly be back again... it was more then he could easily comprehend.

Of course he was absolutely overjoyed to see Lovino again. To live with him again, be near him again, hug him again and talk to him again face to face. He couldn't wait.

But he was also absolutely, completely and utterly terrified by the idea.

It had been years since he'd seen him. What if he'd changed? What if Feliciano himself had changed? What if Lovino didn't want to be his brother any more after seeing him now? He loved his brother, but he was only just now coming to realise that he probably didn't know him at all. They'd spent nearly their entire lives apart, there was no way he'd be the Lovino he remembered from his early childhood. Even the Lovino he had loved back then wouldn't be the actual Lovino from his early childhood, to be honest. Feliciano had spent so many nights dreaming up what his brother had been like, it was completely possible that he'd created an unrealistic representation of him and the man he was going to meet again for the first time today would be a stranger. Family should never be strangers. And it was that idea, and that idea alone, that kept Feli from running for the hills.

Family should never be strangers. Family could never be strangers, because they were family, no matter how little you knew them now. And Lovino was his brother, and he was Lovino's so... so no matter what had happened between their separation and now, it shouldn't matter. They'd still be brothers when they met again. He's still love Lovi just as much as he had then, no matter who he had become, and that was simply that.

(I figured Lovi'd probably be getting himself to the apartment as Feli can't drive right now?)

Lovino had been living out of suitcases (or, more commonly, a suitcase) for most of his life. Unpacking was too confident. It brought too much hope, to settle in; and really, he would just end up having to repack soon enough anyways.

Committing to a house was scary. Because there would always be the small feeling, the choking fear that one day it would be taken from him. He'd have to pack up, leave, desperately search for another place to live that he couldn't call home without the word tasting wrong in his mouth.

Clutching his suitcase, his small parcel of his entire life, he stared out the taxi window. Unfamiliar streets and faces flitted by outside, like the photo album to a stranger's life. He wondered if his brother had a photo album. Would looking at it be like looking at a stranger's life? Spying on something personal that Lovino shouldn't have any part in?

Looking at photos of his brother was shocking. They were so similar; almost obviously twins, despite some minor differences. He heard that twins often had similar mannerisms, even when they hadn't ever met. He wondered if this would apply to them. The Italian was always scowling, whereas his brother always seemed cheery and bright. It was a little different from what he remembered of him. The Feliciano of his memory was a crybaby, but also generous and kind-- and he could be stubborn and stern when he wanted to be.

But, like Feliciano, Lovino's memories of his brother may have been botched by time and emotions.

As the taxi pulled up in front of the apartment, and the brunette paid, he felt fear sew itself into his stomach. What if Feliciano, like so many others, decided that he wasn't worth the trouble to be with? If he decided that he didn't want his brother...

Lovino bit his lower lip and steeled himself, dragging his luggage out, through the lobby, and into the elevator. He'd make this work. He had to.

Shaking, he reached the apartment number that was listed beside 'Vargas.' It was bizarre to see his last name used when not in reference to him. It took him a few minutes before he pulled up the nerve to ring the doorbell.

Oh! That had to be him, didn't it? Feliciano felt himself freeze at the sound of the bell running through his apartment. His home, as he'd have to start thinking of it for the next four or so years. That. That would be him. Him. Lovino. His brother, his twin, his other half.

...the complete stranger he hadn't seen in just over a decade.

Oh. Dio.

How could he... He couldn't. He couldn't. Maybe he- but no. He had to. Just... just walk back inside, and open the door. Let him in. Let him in and... what? Hug him? That sounded like the right thing to do, but could you hug a stranger? What if he didn't like hugs? What if he hated them? What if by hugging him Feliciano would make Lovino hate him? But a handshake just sounded wrong, and to stand there and say hello would be so awkward. Oh, how he wished he had left the door unlocked so he could just call that it was open and let Lovino make the first move. Set the tone, as it were. But it wasn't open and that was no fair of him to do.

He'd just have to go in there and open the door, hoping for the best. Yes. Yes. He could do this! He could! He would! Right now!

...right after he took another breath of air and steadied his nerves, he meant. Taking a shaky breath, Feliciano realised that his hands were gripping the rail of the balcony so tightly the knuckles had bleached themselves white. Forcing his fingers to uncurl he watched the blood rush the colour back into them. Right. Right. He could do this. It was his brother! Of course he could do this!

With that in mind he turned- and walked straight into the sliding glass door. Whoops. Well, now Lovino would think he was an idiot, but oh well, that was mostly true anyway. Pushing that open and aside he moved the rest of hte way in and into the front door, where he paused again, taking a breath, and then pulling the door open.

...he wasn't sure what he'd expected himself to feel. Terrified, relieved, nothing? He wasn't sure, and it didn't matter, because none of them came to the surface. Rather he recognised the face from pictures, from life, from memories played over and over in his mind until they were forever imprinted there, and up boiled joy and love until he was nearly overflowing with it.

Out of his mind flew any idea of what to do or not to do and why, and he flung his arms around the other, burying his face into his neck. "Fratello! You look just like you did when I last saw you! Only a lot bigger and a lot older! I missed you! Lovino~ Ciao~ Ti amo~"