#that's why I'm sometimes deeply hurt and disappointed by your busy schedule

[myheartxmyman]

Ich wusste seit einer ganzen Weile, dass ich genetisch vorbelastet bin an einem plötzlichen Herztod zu sterben, ebenfalls wusste ich, dass immer mehr junge Menschen auf diese Art sterben.

Als ich die Warnsignale gelesen hab konnte ichs gar nicht glauben.. Synkopen, Krampfanfälle.. Beides Dinge mit denen ich schon seit Jahren lebe. Mal häufiger, dann wieder seltener.

Die Frage, ob ich unfruchtbar bin geht mir bereits seit Monaten immer und immer wieder durch den Kopf. Wenn ich Kinder sehe, wenn ich Hugo sehe. Zack, instant denk ich an mein Kind. Mein Baby. Dann kommt die Frage, begleitet mit einem stechenden Schmerz "Was, wenn das meine einzige Chance war jemals ein eigenes Kind zu haben?". Teilweise fühl ich mich gelähmt vor Angst, hab das Gefühl "kaputt" zu sein. Gleichzeitig versuch ich mir einzureden "besser so für das Kind, deine Gene sollte niemand haben.", Gedanken rasen in alle Richtungen, vor und zurück. Hin und her. Es stresst mich schon seit langem, ich weiß, dass ich Gewissheit bekommen muss. Für dich. Für mich. Für uns. Denn sollte ich unfruchtbar sein, ist es nur fair, dass du so schnell wie möglich darüber Bescheid weißt. Allerdings hab ich mich nicht getraut, hatte auch soviel zu tun, keine Energie, nur Stress, Angst, Panik.

Insgeheim hatte ich die Hoffnung, dass du mich begleiten würdest. Dass du merken würdest, wie sehr mich das mitnimmt. Dass du wissen würdest, dass ich unbedingt Gewissheit brauch. Ich konnte mir nicht vorstellen alleine zu einem Gynäkologen zu gehen, alles triggernd für mich. Allein der Gedanke. Der Stuhl. Instant denk ich zurück an die Notaufnahme im Gesundbrunnen. Die Kommissarin, den langen schmalen Flur voller Menschen. Wie alle mich angeschaut haben. Diese grenzenlose Scham, das Gefühl des verschwinden wollens. Ich saß eingefroren wartend und gleichzeitig befragt werden dort, aber in mir hat alles gezittert. Meine ganze Welt war so unwirklich. Mir war so schwindelig, ich hab mich so tot gefühlt, alles war in Bewegung und gleichzeitig erfroren. Funktioniert hab ich aber wie, weiß ich bis heute nicht. Dann dieser Behandlungsraum, ausziehen, auf den Stuhl.. Zuhören wie die Ärztin der Kommissarin die verschiedenen Verletzungen dokumentierte, zeigte. Plötzlich der totale fassungslose Schock, als ich die Kommissarin sagen hörte "dann mach ich mal Fotos zur Beweissicherung". "was?! Nein! Nein!..." Ein Glück erklärte sich die Ärztin bereit als Zeugin auszusagen, zur Kommissarin meinte sie "wir haben die Verletzungen beide gesehen. Dokumentiert sind sie. Wir können es beide bestätigen, das müsste doch reichen.".. Scham Scham Scham. Die Ärztin sagte leise was zur Kommissarin, woraufhin diese mich vorsichtig aber bestimmt begann auszufragen. Von alten Verletzungen / vernarbungen in mir redete, Details wissen wollte welche ich nicht mit Sicherheit geben konnte. Ssv Narben wurden entdeckt und ich wurde darauf angesprochen. Unangenehm, alles. Die ganze Welt. Retraumatisierung durch rape kit, Befragungen und Gerichtsverhandlungen sind absolut echt. Es ist gefühlt ein horror nach dem anderen, man möchte nur noch dass die Welt aufhört sich zu drehen. Oder man verschwinden kann, sich einfach in Luft auflösen..

Die Vorstellung alleine zum Gynäkologen zugehen, auf diesem Stuhl und dabei prüfen zulassen, ob ich womöglich durch die illegale Abtreibung unfruchtbar wurde, das erschien mir unmöglich. Alleine der Gedanke, die Vorstellung, jagten mir Panik und Herzrasen durch den Körper.

Jeden Monat das hoffen, bis ich versucht habe es mir auszureden.. "Ja oder nein, beides okay, beides gut." instant schrie mein Kopf "beides gut, SOLANGE ES NOCH MÖGLICH IST!", und trotzdem jedes Mal wenn meine periode angefangen hat, der Stich der Enttäuschung. Mit jedem Monat tiefer. Mit jedem gemachten Test ebenfalls. Ich wollte mich selber gar nicht erst "hoffen" lassen, aber die Hoffnung stirbt zuletzt..

Dann kam die Panik vor einem plötzlichen Herztod in jungen Jahren dazu. Ich stellte mir vor, fünf Jahre in der Zukunft mit dir zusammen glücklich zu sein. Ein gemeinsames Zuhause, mit Kleinkind und Hund. Ich stellte mir eine glückliche Zukunft vor, und dann starb ich plötzlich aus dem nichts, als ich alleine mit unserem Kind war. Das Kind total verstört, für mich jede Hilfe zu spät... Ich träumte von dieser Vorstellung, wieder und wieder. Ich hab angefangen zu denken, dass du ohne mich wesentlich besser dran bist. Wer möchte sich schon auf jemand einlassen, wo vermutlich unfähig ist ein Kind zu bekommen, und gleichzeitig jeden Moment einfach "tot umfallen" könnte.

All diese Sorgen, die Ereignisse dieses Jahres, es raubte mir soviel Kraft und Energie. Angst, Sorgen, Zukunftsängste bzw das denken gar keine Zukunft mehr zu haben, kummer, Schmerz, Zweifel. Und sooft das Gefühl mit alldem alleine zu sein. Was mir an einem Tag als richtig erschien, nachdem Motto "ich möchte ihn nicht belasten", allerdings durch die Intensität meiner Gefühle, Gedanken, gepaart mit den Albträumen, dem schlechten Schlaf. Diesem Gefühl keine Pause zu haben, nie, nicht einen einzigen Moment.. All das ließ mich denken "Ich steh zwar noch, aber bin so kurz vorm zerbrechen. Ich brauch ihn. Ich brauch eine Auszeit vom Stress der Welt. Er hat die Fähigkeit mich in Zeiten wie diesen zu beruhigen. Aber er ist nicht da, immer ist irgendwas und die Erledigungen rauben mir die letzte Kraft. Aufstehen, von a nach b nach c, der Stress wuchs und wuchs ins unermessliche. Mein Herz begann öfters weh zutun, nicht verwunderlich aber ein Teufelskreis. Mein Zyklus wurde unregelmäßig, vermutlich eine Folge des Stresses, allerdings ein weiterer Teufelskreis...

Heute habe ich rausgefunden, dass ich nicht nur eine potentielle Risikopatientin für einen plötzlichen Herztod bin, sondern auch für andere Herzerkrankungen.

Was mich am meisten belastet, ist zu wissen, dass Angehörige ersten Grades ein 50 prozentiges Risiko am plötzlichen Herztod zu versterben habe.

Risiko für :

Atherosklerose

Vorzeitige koronare Herzkrankheit

Genetisch bedingte arrhythmiesyndrome (SADS)

Myokarditis

...

Eigentlich ist das Risiko über 50 Prozent, da mein Dad so verstarb, und mein Onkel welcher als näher Angehöriger zählt an einer Herzerkrankung leidet.

Als potentieller Risikopatient ist es besonders wichtig Maßnahmen zu ergreifen, zb das vermeiden bestimmter Medikamente. Diclofenac war vermutlich das Schlimmste, was mir passieren konnte, denn seit der Einnahme hab ich stärkere Herzprobleme als jemals zuvor. Gleichzeitig ist Stress der absolute Feind.. Synkopen könnten jederzeit durch spezifische Faktoren wie Stress, schrille Wecker, sportliche Belastung, ausgelöst werden.. Bestimmte Sportarten sollte ich vermeiden. Bevor ich wieder aktiv mit Sport anfangen kann, MUSS ich erstmal mein Herz untersuchen lassen...

Und das werde ich jetzt tun. Ich habe heute einen Gynäkologen gefunden, sowie eine Klinik für Kardiologie. Ich hoffe die Wartezeiten sind nicht allzulange... Ich brauch Klarheit. Dieser Dauerstresszustand in welchem ich gefangen bin ist einfach zuviel. Es ist irgendwo alles zuviel, aber wenn man nicht mit irgendwas anfängt, dann wirds nicht besser. Ich muss den Stress reduzieren, muss meinen Puls in Balance bringen. Muss Dinge klären, welche nicht nur für mich sehr wichtig sind, sondern auch für dich. Du hast ein Recht darauf zu wissen, was Sache ist.

Ich finde nach und nach meine Stärke wieder. Wachse über mich hinaus.. Ich bin genug, ich schaffe diese Untersuchungen auch alleine. Ich "stütze" mich selbst. Genauso wie ich mich seit Monaten selbst nachts umarme, um nicht auseinander zu fallen. Manchmal halte ich meine eigene Hand, um weniger einsam zu sein. Da ist immer eine helfende Hand, selbst wenn man allein ist. Wenn man sich selbst nicht helfen kann, dann kanns niemand.

[heliolicious]

napoleone della rosa's diary - from cristoforo della rosa's point of view

chapter 2: confusion

one day, napoleone had a girlfriend. she appeared very suddenly in his life, the girl of the restaurant confessed to him, a spring day, that she wanted to be his girlfriend. and my brother, a 17 year old, bless his naive being, gave into it without questioning anything. he never got anybody going up to him and asking him out like that, everyone preferred to be away from him. because he was the weird one. the smart ass chatterbox. the one everyone found boring.

portia de amarettis, this was the girl's name. i saw her, multiple times, at home. she seemed to be highly spoilt and respected by our parents, who even started to treat napoleone himself, a little better. something didn't sit right with me about it. something felt fishy, but napoleone was blinded by the feeling of finally having someone by his side. i can't tell if he really ever loved portia, or if he was only ever in love with the sole idea of being loved by someone.

"april 12nd, 1992. (=napoleone's age: 18 / cristoforo's age: 15)

this morning i've been on a date with portia, my girlfriend. we have two almost every week, my parents have never been happier than this, it almost feels like they care about my happiness and my freedom, which is pretty unbelievable. we ate together, and i paid for it to try to be a gentleman. i feel like i took a wrong step, however, when i asked her how she was feeling about making love with me. she is two years older than me, i supposed she already had more experience, but she said she wasn't ready yet. and looked a little upset when she left.

so i took some time to think about where did i go wrong, hoping she wouldn't be upset. i took a walk at the park. and i met a boy, who didn't laugh in my face and didn't call me names when everyone else did. he seemed to be much taken aback from me, and did not want me to see his face. this didn't and won't stop me from being next to him. i'll see him again."

so he met a special friend. a special friend that in a matter of little time, became someway almost as important as portia in his life. but again, his dates with portia started to feel organized in the same way his parents organized and kept under their control his studying schedule. my brother would have wanted to spend an afternoon with his new friend, but sometimes, they set up a date for him and the girl three afternoons in a row. so he couldn't see his friend, for quite some time.

his girlfriend started to feel more like homework, during those days, leading my brother to think about it and realize, that maybe it wasn't as good as he thought. that maybe his heart didn't really beat for her precisely, nothing was in his heart when she smiled, he only ever felt something when he thought about receiving love. no matter whether it came from portia herself or not. until he realized what being suddenly lovestruck really meant.

when his friend showed up with a completely different face. a perfect one. a porcelain doll looking one.

"april 20th, 1992. (=napoleone's age: 18 / cristoforo's age: 15)

i am feeling weird. i have a girlfriend, so it can't be that my heart is racing for desire towards someone else. it should just be for the surprise, he said it's a curse that changed his appearance. never have i ever struggled to keep myself from kissing someone this hard. but he's a man. and i am one too. i don't know how to take this, not to mention, i am busy with portia. even if i never felt this way for her. this might just be the effect of the surprise for i have seen his new face. i have a date with portia, tomorrow. i'll see what do i feel about her and judge what's up with me."

"april 22th, 1992. (=napoleone's age: 18 / cristoforo's age: 15)

i don't know what to say, nor why i did it. there's nothing i want to write here, if not that i messed up, when portia leaned in for a kiss and i backed off. she thought i was upset because she didn't want to sleep with me yet. the truth is, i just don't know if i love her anymore. it saddens me, she seems to love me a lot. or at least she's doing anything to keep me. in all honesty, i fear what would happen if i told her the truth, or worse, if i told my parents. i can't even ask for my friend's opinion. it would require telling him i ache for a kiss of his. and it feels wrong."

i can't hide these pages of my brother's diary hurt me. because i've already read it all, and it makes me furious.

however, napoleone soon found out everyone, portia included, had been using him the whole time, for her family's restaurant had been falling into bankruptcy due to debts with passione, a huge mafia. the plan was getting her married to napoleone, joining the families together, to start a good total income for the two families, being the de amarettis restaurant the best one in the city and the one with most success. the only obstacle so far, had been the debts to fulfill with the rival mafia.

but now, napoleone's heart created another obstacle. when he found out portia never really loved him, and that her family and his own parents played him like a fiddle for money, he stabbed with a dagger all the pages that contained words of affection towards her. or that spoke about her in any case. it took me a little to understand the missing pieces and restore the pages i showed a second ago, but i was able to fix them quite well.

the last piece of this chapter doesn't require his diary anymore, however. after stabbing it with a dagger, he never spoke about her again, in his diary. so, i'm gonna have to expose something i spied in secret.

he mentioned in the first diary page i showed here, that he felt almost as if his parents had started to care about him, after he got together with portia. but he soon learnt at his own expenses that it was just for money. of course, my brother tried to delete her from his mind, even if it was not possible. he even let a lot of anger off, in secret. but when our father saw him set himself up all elegant and good looking, more than he looked like when he used to hang with portia, he questioned really hard where he was gonna go.

napoleone always tried to stay outside with his special friend the most he could, he did not want to stay inside, seeing our family angered him, and seeing lady delphine angered him more, since she knew about it and never told him. he trusted her deeply for years, and she gave his trust away too.

however, my brother was just trying to go outside and spend an afternoon with his friend, when our father stopped him.

"who is it?" he just asked. straight to the point. napoleone could just freeze on the spot and turn around. our mother, olympia, was just in the next room, but as i was spying in secret, i'm sure she was listening just as much. "not only you ruin what your mother and i had planned for you, money and a wedding, but you also have the guts of setting yourself up and leaving like this. almost everyday, instead of studying. there must be someone. is she... rich?"

"no. can i go?"

"is she known?"

"i don't owe you answers. i really... just wanna go-" a loud, smacking sound. when my brother refused to answer for the second time, our father lost his patience. he always snapped. too quickly. i had never seen it before, though. napoleone was the one who always got caught into it. his cheek hurt immensely. his glasses flew off.

"you don't have the power you think you hold, leone. you disobey your mother and i, you leave a betrothed behind for a random lady, a poor underdog god knows where you found. you've always been an obedient kid. what are you doing of your life?"

"she's not an underdog. he- she- ... she is someone i value."

our father stared at him. immensely. for some seconds. my fifteen year old mind didn't get what had happened, i used to ask myself what was wrong with having a male friend, but my current mind does understand what the whole situation truly meant, enough to tell about it. napoleone had slipped on it, and our father wasn't so stupid to not to notice. in fact, he stared at napoleone with a disgusted expression for seconds that felt neverending. and then, whispered under his breath. "you filthy f****t. whose son are you? not mine, for sure."

don't make me write that fully. our father said that word to him, and i didn't know what it meant, when i was fifteen. but now i know, and it gives me chills to think about the scene. the scene of my father taking a handful of my brother's hair to kick his nose, insulting him and telling him he was a disappointment. it was the first time, i ever heard napoleone scream in agony. our father sometimes slapped us if we didn't behave, but he never got so far.

when we were younger, napoleone had little to no muscle. and he was definitely thinner than me. now, it's the contrary, but at the time, it really mattered. the scene continued under my - hidden - eyes and under my mom's gaze, until my brother had a seizure and could just lie on the ground, not reacting, not answering to anything.

"i will find your son's filthy friend." our father murmured in our mother's ear. and i don't know what happened afterwards. all i know, is that i saw my brother's eyes widen and move towards them, as if he heard them despite the ongoing seizure. and the day after, i witnessed him shooting our father in the head.

"june 5th, 1992. (=napoleone's age: 18 / cristoforo's age: 15)

no, no you won't."

it was the beginning of the end.

[rikotin]

Hey, I really liked your fic with David not getting into the film school. I'm in the mood for more angst. Can you please write this one “Why are you lying to me?” with Davenzi?

hiii! thank you for the prompt and sorry for the small delay, i got a bit carried away and ended up with a bit more than i bargained for haha

but angst you ask and angst you get (with some hope and comfort we all deserve)! hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

And I Promise You This

It was bound to happen eventually, their lives getting more diverging. 

They still had their huge group of friends, but as people started studying and working, they rarely managed to meet up with everyone present these days. Now, everyone saw each other mostly one on one or in smaller groups, whenever they could.

Matteo and David had also both made some new friends along the way. After David started university, he quickly found himself part of a small, warm community of fine arts students and made a lot of friends in just a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, Matteo worked at a nearby Italian restaurant, still contemplating if being a chef or a waiter was something he’d like to do in the future as well, or if he’d rather study something completely else. Soon after starting at his new job, Matteo had hit it off with a couple of his colleagues, as they were around the same age, and they saw each other regularly outside work.

All things considered, it was only natural that they didn’t spend that much time together anymore. It wasn’t to say that they didn’t spend time together at all, no. Of course they made sure to regularly carve out some time for  each other – to play games, watch movies, explore the city, whatever they happened to come up with. They basically lived together as well, mostly sharing a bed at the flatshare, but sometimes escaped the noisy and nosy flatmates by going to David’s – well, Laura’s, at this point – apartment just to get some peace and quiet. It was nice every once in a while, Laura and Matteo connected over cooking and David connected with them both by eating and enjoying it, but they had chosen to live at the flatshare anyway, as David couldn’t really stomach the idea of living with his boyfriend under his sister’s roof. Some things should always have a healthy amount of distance from the family members, and the thin wall between their bedrooms simply didn’t provide that.

However, going from being joined at the hip all the time to having their separated lives, despite their things having morphed into one large pile that belonged to both of them, had led to some arguments and strain in their relationship. That was to be expected, though, as it was a new situation to both of them, and adjusting to it hadn’t been as easy as they had initially thought.

Things had calmed down, and mostly, it was smooth sailing. But sometimes, things got tough. That happened when they were both beyond stressed, and so busy they barely ever saw each other – David working on projects at the university from 8 to 18 while Matteo sometimes came home from work well after midnight. Most of the time, they were good at communicating their concerns and anything that might be bothering them, and it rarely caused them any troubles. But when tired and annoyed, listening got hard and patience wore thin, leading to frustration and arguments.

Usually, the tension between them lasted from several hours to a few days until one or both of them broke it by saying something funny or teasing purposefully to swipe away the odd strain, or simply by apologizing and taking away the hurt.

It had been a week now, and David was slowly losing his mind.

It all began on the evening he had promised to go to a party with his friends from the university. Matteo was supposed to work for the day, but his boss had to reschedule him for the following evening due to a big reservation, effectively ruining their plans to go out together with the boys like “the old times” as Carlos had referred to it.

David knew he could have taken the news a bit better, as it wasn’t Matteo’s fault and Matteo agreed to the change simply because he didn’t want to cause his colleagues to break under pressure while working understaffed. Matteo’s decision was, in fact, very thoughtful, now that David thought back to it. Unfortunately, when Matteo had broken the news to him, his initial reaction was to call him out on it – not because he was actually angry, like he was sure it came across, but because he was disappointed that he couldn’t make it. They all had been looking forward to the night-out for such a long time, made plans over a month ago to ensure everyone had their schedule free for the night, and now, Matteo was not going to make it.

After he had calmed down a bit, David had suggested that Matteo come with him to the student party instead. Matteo had asked him if he could cancel, if they could just curl up on the couch and enjoy a movie or something. But he couldn’t do that, as he had made a promise, and had taken part in planning the evening, and was needed to set up the place for the people. 

After a short but tense discussion, Matteo agreed to go – although a bit reluctantly. David understood where he was coming from: Matteo had only briefly met his school friends, and generally disliked being in loud places with huge crowds without knowing anyone.  And, well, wasn’t a student party just that? But he promised to go with David, and David was thrilled to have his boyfriend with him – ready to show Matteo off to everyone.

However, David felt that something was off. Something had started with their quarrel but never disappeared, even after they had made amends. 

Throughout the night, it kept bugging him. It bothered him as he watched Matteo chat and laugh with his friends; it kept nagging at the back of his head as they all danced together. He pulled Matteo close, the music booming around them, and he swayed with him for a moment – until Matteo pulled away. Later, he asked Matteo if he wanted to get something to drink, but only got a shake of a head as an answer. While they were walking back to the flatshare, David reached for Matteo’s hand, but Matteo pulled it away and slipped it into his pocket. Matteo was looking away into the distance of the sleeping city, but David couldn’t help feeling like it was intentional.

David tried to bring it up many times as the week went by. He knew he had been childish before the party, getting mad over nothing, and he had told Matteo as much. Told him he had been wrong, and that he was sorry. And Matteo had accepted his apology, shrugging like he didn’t know why David was apologizing. But there was something sad in his smile and something careful in the way he hugged David back, and it all screamed that something was still so very wrong. 

So, day after day, David asked about it, and all he kept getting back was a forced laugh, a shrug, or an eyeroll. His initial worry quickly turned back into irritation.

“Matteo, what is wrong?” he asked for what seemed like the thousandth time in the past couple of days. He had gone to hug his boyfriend from behind while he was pouring some coffee for himself, only to be shrugged off as quickly as Matteo needed to realize what he was about to do; his patience was at its limits.

“Nothing,” Matteo answered immediately – too fast for it to be sincere. David sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was too early – to be awake, to be shoved off, to be having this conversation, you name it –, but it was the first morning in a month they were actually able to have breakfast together. So if he was being honest, it hurt to be brushed off without any explanation when all he wanted was some coffee and a goddamn hug from his boyfriend.

“Don’t start with that again. It’s obviously something. You’ve been acting strange all week.”

“I have not.”

The discussion was like an exact repeat from all the previous ones they’d had, leading absolutely nowhere. It took every ounce of self-control David had to remain calm and not pull his hair out strand by strand in his frustration.

“You just pushed me off from hugging you even though we haven’t been able to spend a morning together in ages. That is very strange when it comes to you.”

“Are you saying I’m clingy?” Matteo grumbled, now visibly annoyed at being forced to continue the conversation despite his efforts to escape it. Matteo grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge and poured some into his coffee, pointedly turning his back to David for the moment. David couldn’t help but wonder if, maybe, it would actually help to pull out some hair, after all.

“No, I–… That’s not what I said.” David shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face. “Matteo, I need to know what’s going on. You’re avoiding me.”

“I’m right here,” Matteo stated blankly, returning the milk to the fridge. He picked up his coffee mug and turned around, but kept his eyes down, while David kept his own gaze on Matteo’s face like a hawk, desperate to get any reaction that might hint at what was going on.

“You are here, yes, but you’re still avoiding me.”

Matteo shrugged and kept quiet, taking a sip out of his mug while he leaned his back against the kitchen counter. David was running out of ideas on how to not end up in yet another fight, when all he wanted to do was the resolve the previous one they had – or whatever it was that was now putting this weight between them.

“Matteo, please,” David began, stressing his words, and let his eyes slide shut while he took a deep breath before opening them again. “You barely talk to me if I don’t talk to you first, you pull your hand away when I try to hold it, you shrug me off when I try to hug you and now you’re refusing to look me in the eye completely. Why is that? Please tell me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Matteo said, his voice so quiet David could hardly make out the words. David ran his fingers through his hair, ignoring the knots and tangles they got stuck in on the way.

“You are, though. So, what is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you lying to me?” David snapped, raising his voice unintentionally, the force of it ringing through the kitchen, and regretting it as soon as he saw Matteo flinch.

“Sorry,” David said immediately, backing down a bit and heavily dropping himself on to the nearest kitchen chair. “I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry. I just–… Please, just–… I need to know what I’ve done wrong so I can fix it.”

That’s when Matteo’s gaze snapped up to meet his eyes and he looked… Confused?

“What do you mean? You haven’t done anything.”

Now, David was even more lost. He stared at Matteo, his mouth hanging open in surprise, struggling to take in the information he had just been given.

“What?”

“It’s not–… You didn’t do anything,” Matteo said again, now rubbing his hand over his eyes – with slightly too much force, David noted, like he tended to do when he was frustrated. David leaned his elbows on his knees, gnawing on his lower lip, feeling uncertain.

“What is it, then?” he asked carefully, hoping to sound encouraging. Like he was trying his hardest not to scare Matteo away now that he had finally gotten him to talk – or even react to his questions – for the first time since they fell into the odd place of tension a week ago.

“It’s stupid.”

Ah. That was a response that David knew meant that Matteo had been too lost in his own thoughts – his hidden insecurities casting long, dark shadows over his mind, making unwanted thoughts to surface. Matteo had explained it to him once, after he had gone to see a professional to talk about all the struggles he had had ever since his father left and his mother’s mental health had plummeted.

David stood up again and took a few steps closer to Matteo, leaving some space between them and carefully let his hands hang at his sides, not touching him.

“Tell me,” he then said softly, tilting his head as he tried to catch Matteo’s eyes which were once again turned downwards.

“I just–�� I feel like–”

David stood his ground, staying quiet, giving Matteo space to collect his thoughts. Matteo sighed deeply and placed his coffee mug back onto the counter, his shoulders slouching.

“You don’t deserve to be disappointed all the time.”

David blinked. It wasn’t exactly the response he was waiting for, if there was any, and confusion swept over him.

“Disappointed? Because of what?”

“Because of me.”

Matteo’s words tore at his heart. He lifted his arm to take Matteo’s hand, but pulled it away quickly, and reminded himself to keep his distance to ensure Matteo had the space to say everything he wanted – even though  the need to hug him was getting painful to bear. Just as he was about to ask what Matteo had meant, the words started tumbling from Matteo’s lips, a stream of hurt and guilt flung out onto the kitchen floor in front of him. 

He told David how much it bothered him that he had to disappoint not only David but all the guys when he had to cancel their night out, and how much he would have wanted to be there with everyone. He told him how much he hated the student parties and how much he knew David worried for him while they were at one, and how he felt like he always managed to ruin the evening even if no one dared to say it out loud. He told him how much guilt he felt for the times he had told David he’d be home before he went to sleep but had to stay overtime and got back when David had already drifted off. The list went on and on, and David could see it had been building for a long time.

Finally, he closed the distance by taking the couple of steps in between them, and pulled Matteo into a tight hug in the middle of his sentence, and pressed him against himself with all the force he had in his arms. He let his eyes close as Matteo buried his face into the nape of his neck, hugging him back like his whole world depended on it. And they stood there, enveloped in each other, for a long time – finding some desperate comfort in the silence and each other. David felt Matteo shake a little between his arms as the adrenaline, and maybe fear, melted off him. It felt like his chest was burning.

After some time, David finally pulled back just enough to look into Matteo’s eyes, and took his face in between his hands. He wanted to kick himself for not noticing Matteo’s insecurities and building worries earlier. Unfortunately, he had come to learn that Matteo was worryingly good at hiding things if he felt like his feelings might be a burden to someone, so most likely, Matteo had done his very best to keep it safely tucked away from David’s sight. David was determined to do everything in his power to change that so that whatever it was, Matteo could always feel safe to tell it to him. Always.

“I am not disappointed in you,” he then said firmly, and quickly continued before Matteo could jump in, “I am disappointed in situations. I am disappointed because of plans changing suddenly, my favourite jeans ripping and the shitty weather on a summer day. But I’ve never once been disappointed in you.”

“But I have disappointed you.”

Matteo looked uncertain and guilty, and David felt a little sick when he had to nod. But that much was true.

“You have. But– No, listen, Matteo,” David gently turned his face back to him as Matteo tried to turn his eyes away, adamant to keep the connection between them. “It doesn’t mean that you are a disappointment to me.”

David brushed a thumb over Matteo’s cheek, still staring into his blue eyes, trying to muster up the most loving expression he possibly could.

“It never means that, I promise. I’ve only ever been proud of you, to be with you. It makes me so proud to have you.”

Matteo swallowed thickly and didn’t say anything. He simply stared back at David, like he was looking for something in his eyes. Whatever it was, he seemed to find it, as he swallowed again and nodded, utter relief painting his expression.

“Okay.”

David nodded, daring to smile a little and squeeze Matteo’s cheeks a bit more between his hands, squishing them so his lips pointed out rather comically. Matteo pulled his face away, breaking into a small laugh. The sound was music to David’s ears, the chime of his laughter soothing David’s heart immediately. Just like that, the heavy weight between them was lifted.

David took a step closer to crowd Matteo against the counter, and loosely hooked his arms on Matteo’s shoulders when he showed no signs of escaping. Matteo seemed amused – David hadn’t even realized how much he had missed that look.

“I love you so much. So, so much. You know that, right?” he mumbled, brushing his nose against Matteo’s. His voice came out a little wobbly, the question almost like a plea. There was this need inside him, urging him to make sure Matteo heard him say it. He just had to know that despite the worries and doubts Matteo might have when he was drowned by his own thoughts, he still knew that he had David’s whole heart and soul.

He felt soft lips press against his own, the kiss tasting like assurance and promise at the same time. Matteo broke it off as gently as he started it, leaning their foreheads together and pulling David impossibly close by the waist.

“I know,” Matteo breathed out shakily, as his face broke into the warmest, brightest smile David had seen in weeks. 

“I love you, too.”

—

“And I promise you this,

no matter who enters your life

I will love you more than any of them.”

– Origin of the quote unknown