#who even calls a niccolò anything other than nico?

[pls-let-me-out]

Ancient Rome AU

Nico had just turned fifteen when his father married him off to Minos, a man from the northern regions of the empire, who owned cold but rich lands and a third of the roman army. Nico wasn’t particularly surprised, seeing as he was his father’s third-born child. It was his destiny, after all. Bianca’s death hadn’t changed much, it simply made Nico the second-born, behind Hazel. Their mothers had given them birth with only a month of difference, which had dictated the course of their lives.

It also wasn’t a surprise to Nico when he was called to Rome six months after his husband’s death. He reached the city in the middle of summer, sweating even as he stayed in the carriage with his servant.

“Do you know who it’ll be this time?” Drew asked him.

She had been Minos’ wedding gift to Nico. One of the many, surely Nico’s most treasured one. Even after he’d set her free, she’d chosen to remain with him as an employee. He considered her a member of his family.

“No,” Nico said. The walls of the city were getting closer, a sense of anxiety closed his throat.

“I hope it’ll be a good man,” she replied quietly.

Each night Nico prayed to the gods the very same thing.

When they reached his father’s villa just outside the city, one of the servants opened the door. Drew went first, then offered her hand up to Nico. His heart very nearly stopped.

His father looked older than he was, as if the six years they hadn’t seen each other had been many more. The hair on his temples was completely grey, almost white, a stark contrast to the black top. As usual, his face showed no emotion, perfectly stoic, as he stood with his hands behind his back. He looked Nico up and down, assessing him. Nico stood a bit straighter, berating himself as he did so.

Hazel had apparently just gotten out of practice. Her forehead shone with sweat, she was dressed for battle. She enveloped Nico in a hug. Six years. The last time they held each other was when Nico was leaving. They’d both grown since then, but in his sister’s arms, Nico still felt fifteen.

When they broke apart, the dark skinned woman who’d been at his father’s side stepped up.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Niccolò,” she said. Her voice was warm, and sensing who she was, Nico felt sorry for her. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Persephone, your father’s wife.”

Nico doubted she’d heard anything about him at all. Even before his marriage, he’d been at odds with his father, he doubted Hades spoke a great deal about him. “I prefer Nico.”

She smiled. She took one of Nico’s arms, Hazel on the other, and they escorted him inside. They told him about Melikoe, who apparently was his new sister. She was just three months old.

The next day, Nico met his future husband. Before that he was bathed and pampered in all ways, servants at his back and call with every comfort. When he looked at himself in the mirror, hair neatly done and every remnant of the journey scrubbed off his skin, Nico barely recognised himself.

Persephone gave him a heavy necklace, much too similar to those Nico’s own mother used to wear for his liking. They reached his new husband’s house with a carriage. Nico remembered the place, he thought he might have been there to visit before. His father used to take him and Hazel along, even when he only needed Bianca. It was hard to think of that side of his father now.

“Behave,” Hades said lowly as he helped Nico down the carriage.

“You are the picture of your mother,” somebody said.

When Nico looked up, he was met with Naomi Solace’s kind eyes. She reached him and took his hands in hers. Was his father marrying him off to a woman? Had he gone completely mad?

“I’m so happy to have you back in the city, dear,” she said. “I hated the thought of you married off to that old creature in the north.”

“Let me see the boy, Naomi. I’ll evaluate him.”

Naomi gave Nico one last smile, before stepping to the side. A few steps back, slowly limping forth, was an old man. He had white hair and even more wrinkles than Minos had. Nico sent a look to his father, but Hades was looking smugly at the boy behind the old man, whose blond curls shone like melted gold under the sun rays.

The man quickly arrived in front of Nico. Well, not quickly for any other person present, but quickly if considered that he looked like the wind might sweep him away. Hazel herself looked worried. Just the prior night, she’d told Nico that their father had kept Nico’s new husband’s identity secret.

Greasy, old fingers touched Nico’s chin, holding him still as washed-out brown eyes searched his face. Nico’s lips curled, but he didn’t move. He didn’t let himself look away. He forced every muscle of his body to stay relaxed, his lungs to not move too quickly.

“You didn’t lie about his beauty, Hades,” the old man said.

Naomi’s smile brightened. Hades slightly bowed his head, accepting the praise. Nico’s patience ran out.

“He hasn’t seen me in six years,” he said. As all eyes snapped to him, Nico put on his most saccharine smile. “Since he married me off to an old guy. So forgive me sir, but I’m really not in the mood to repeat the experience.” Nico took a step back, turning to his father, whose eyes were bulging out of their sockets. “Whatever your pact is, I’m now old enough to oppose.”

Silence fell on them. Even the birds stopped singing. Maybe the gods themselves were looking down on them.

The old man turned to the blond man behind him, who was watching the scene unfold with something akin to amusement - or awe - in his eyes.

“Well, the boy was clear,” the old man said.

Hades snapped out of his trance, and fell to his knee, head bowed. “Please, forgive him, my lord. Venus gave him beauty, just as Mars gave him spirit. Even too much of it, at times. He means well.”

“I don’t mean well,” Nico blurted out, crossing his arms on his chest. When he shook his head, the gold rings braided in his hair twinkled. “I mean to not get married to somebody who was here to see Rome being built.”

Much to Nico’s surprise, the old man laughed loudly.

Hades didn’t. He put his hands on his face, still bowing on the floor. “For the love of the gods, Nico, you’re speaking to our emperor!”

The old man laughed harder, until it sent him into a coughing fit. When he saw Nico’s open mouth, he laughed even louder. Naomi put her hands on her mouth, worried glances sent back and forth between the emperor and the blond man.

“Hades, old friend, stand. No need for that. Now that you know who I am, are you any more inclined to marry me?” Asked the emperor, once he regained his composure.

“Not really, no.”

The emperor’s lips twitched in a smile. “That’s good, because you’re not here to marry me. You’re marrying my heir.”

Again, Nico’s mouth popped open. The blond man behind the emperor stepped up, a smile lightening his freckled features.

“You are exactly as you were when we were kids,” he simply said.

Nico tilted his head to the side, finally connecting the dots. “Will.”

“I told you I’d marry you one day.” He’d kept a hand behind himself the whole time, and finally he showed it. He was holding a flower. “This is for you. I hope it’s still your favourite.”

When Nico took the poppy, his hands shook. He couldn’t quite believe what was happening. He didn’t remember much about Will Solace, but he was a kind, young boy, who saw the best in everybody. And now he was the emperor’s heir, and that in itself was quite unbelievable. Nico didn’t think he deserved somebody like Will Solace, but life wasn’t about what one deserved. So he went on with the wedding, and a week later he married William Solace.

[revengeisalwaysanoption]

31, Nicotino

Martino should have known this would happen, when he bought Nico a smartphone for his birthday. That, eventually, he'd sign up on Instagram and use it to share his art. And that was just fine, but then they boys heard about it and Luchino got into his head that he had to be Nico's agent - since I Contrabbandieri di Porri were still waiting for their big hit - and that the views on his profile would benefit from showing some 'work in progress' videos.

Marti was quite certain that he'd say that his creative process was something too intimate to be shared, that part of uNreal99 's charm was their anonymity  and laugh Luca's proposal off. Except he didn't. He listened intently, nodding along and saying that he would consider it as long as his boyfriend was okay with it. A statament which, of course, hit a nerve and had Marti laugh bitterly.

"Now you make it sound like you need my permission to do things, Ni." He had snapped, in a biting tone.

"It's not that." Nico had clarified, reaching out to stroke his knuckles soothingly. "It just wouldn't feel right doing things that could upset you, if I can help it. You know that you always come first, right?"

"Awww, you guys." Luchino had cut in, trying to placate his friend as well. "Forget I've even asked if it's gonna 'cause a rift between you guys. Federica would kill me if she found out I was responsible for Martinico - Rames, Nicotino, however you want to call this beautiful union of yours - splitting up over this."

"Lu. Luchì. Calm down. You too, Nico. We're not even having an argument, here. Of course I'm okay with it. If anything, it's you two suggesting that I wouldn't as if I were some kind of jealous freak..."

It doesn't bother bother him at all, really. They are all just nicknames on a screen, with no chance on getting their dirty little hands on his boyfriend in real life. Plus, the raunchiest comments are things like 'your biggest fan since day one' , 'the true work of art is you' , 'this world is lucky to have so much beauty in it, and you certainly do your part' all coming from the same account that always ends their messages with a 'kisses from N.' The only one Nico never fails to reply to, with a rose and heart.

Well, that does bother him a little. Not too much, honestly. He's just curious about all this flirting since, well, Nico never fails to mention in the captions to his photos or in his videos that he's got a boyfriend. Why they keep on stalking his profile, then, liking every post? Why is Ni being so nice to them? Does he need to step in and tell this person to leave him alone?

"Who's this nadia.morriconi44 who liked your post on instagram? Who liked all of your posts, really, and keeps sending you kisses in the comments?" He asks one day, casually, over lunch.

"And what about it? Are you jealous?" Nico teases him a bit, not letting him answer to that as he goes on "I do admit she tends to go a bit overboard with the compliments, but that's how she is. She is married and, besides, I'm way too young for her. "

Okay, so that '44' in her nickname is her age?

"As if that had ever stopped people from being stalkers. Or creeps. She wouldn't be the first woman in her forties hitting on a man in his twenties... And why are you talking as if you know her personally..." He doesn't, does he?

What if she's someone he got to meet through his parents?

"Because I do, Marti. I can call her right now, and ask her to lay off the praise." Nico doesn't even need to dial the number, he has it saved on his phone. What the... "I'm not sure she'd read my reply on Instagram, or look at Directs. She barely even opens Whatsapp. She's worse than me, when it comes to technology... Nonna? Hi, it's me Nico. Yeah, yeah I'm good. I'm just calling because Marti has seen all your likes and comments on my posts and wants you to stop stalking me."

No-nonna? Nadia Morriconi is Nico's grandma? From which side, exactly? What's with all those pictures from art galleries and clubs from every corner of the world... Isn't she, like, nearly eighty or something? Why does it even matter? How is he supposed to face her, whenever they will finally have a chance to meet in person? And no, Nico can't put her on speaker. He needs to run away and hide, cursing his stupid possessiveness. She probably thinks her sweet Niccolò should kick him out and find someone better. Somebody who trusts him and doesn't see him as a serial cheater, always ready to have another man or woman on the side.

"Martino, dear. I'm sorry." Why is she the one apologizing. It doesn't make sense. He should be the one... "Nico is my only grandson and I'm so proud of him that I tend to step over the line sometimes, and make a little uncomfortable with my compliments. Besides, I didn't realize how it'd look from your side. No need to apologize, I get it. You're talking to someone who can't stand to hear 'Carlotta' because that's the name of his first girlfriend. Which, for the record, still flirts with him - as if he hasn't been married to ME for more than fifty years   - and he's just too naive and keeps saying she's just being polite. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

It sure does. Comforting, even.

"He still keeps in touch with Maddalena and Luai, can you believe? Sure, they are both going out with other people at the moment, but between you and me... And don't get me started on how people look at him, even though they know he's with him. There's this guy from Foggia, at his Uni, which Nico claims to be straight but..."  That gets him a well earned pinch on his thigh from Niccolò.

"Well, when you two are done gossiping about me let me know."  He pouts, pretending not to be amused by those two teaming up against him.

"Will do, Ni. Now, Nadia, where was I..."

[contrabbandiera-di-elia]

Somehow I ended up writing a Skam Italia HP AU. It’s just a small ficlet, and please don’t dwell on the sense or logic. You won’t find it. For the plot purposes, we pretend that it’s okay for Italians to attend Hogwarts. We also pretend it’s okay that this fic takes place during/slightly before the Harry Potter era. And we pretend the canon ages doesn’t matter, so the Contrabbandieri and Le Matte are in their sixth year and everyone canonically older than them (Niccolo, Filippo, Villa Boys, Rose Squad…) is on seventh. Not that it matters in 750 words ficlet.

There is no plot, of course. And I don’t plan on making it a whole long fic. It’s probably a one-time thing unless someone’s gonna like it enough to send me an ask with a prompt for this AU. I can do almost every ship and POV, the thing is I’m not that great in writing in English, so don’t expect anything better than this thing below.

No beta, of course. And you may spot some inconsistencies. I haven’t read/watch HP in a long time. But I’ve done some research, and it should be more or less fine.

Martino climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, cursing whoever decided to make Hogwarts so damn huge. He didn’t even want to think about coming back from there to the dungeons in the evening. One of the many disadvantages of having his best friends scattered through all three remaining houses. But it was better now than then anyway. He’d never forget meeting on the sixth floor and going all the way down to the Slytherin Dungeon after they had to part ways. It was back when there were only three of them, and the meeting spot was chosen in favor of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. They changed it after they became four. They started occupying a windowsill near the study area’s entrance. At least in winter. During the warmer parts of the year, they preferred the outside, their own little spot at the lake.

It was a pain to meet all four, and Martino knew it’d be easier to just find more friends among Slytherins. Still, he just loved his own bunch of idiots and couldn’t even think about replacing them.

“There he is! Late as always. What was it this time?”

He rolled his eyes on Elia’s words, making a place for himself on the windowsill. Elia should be the last one to criticize someone for being late. He was late all the time, staying after the classes and listening to professors’ reprimands. Usually with Luca. They had potions together, and it meant constant troubles. Snape wasn’t a fan of their potion experiments, unfortunately.

“I had to go back to the common room, Filippo stopped me there.”

“You went from Charms classroom to the Slytherin Common Room and then here?” Asked Giovanni, laughing when Martino answered that yes, he did. “And all of these without shortcuts?”

“You know that last time I’ve used them I had so many problems with Filch and Snape...”

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t if you focused more on being discreet and less on getting Nico out of his robes...”

“Oh, come on, and you’re telling me Slytherins are bad? You Ravenclaws are the real devils! Sarcastic little shits.”

Elia only laughed at this. Well, he could laugh. Flitwick was chill and laid back. When Filch reported to him about this “occurrence,” he pretended to reprimand Niccolò, but afterward, he told him to choose more discreet places for his dates and didn’t even give him a detention. But Snape? Snape was a whole different story. Weeks passed, and Martino was still getting “maybe you’d make this potion correctly if you focused more on what you’re doing and less on your little dates with Fares, Rametta” sort of comments. He could be Head of Slytherin house, but his sarcasm known no boundaries.

“Anyway,” started Giovanni before Martino could lash out about everyone having better Head of House than Slytherin. “I talked to Eva and Ele today. We were thinking about hanging out at Hogsmeade altogether. Can you all go? No bans, no detentions, no problems with permissions?”

Everyone shook their heads. Which was unusual, because usually at least one of them had detention going on. Elia and Luca could have more laid back Heads of House, but it didn’t protect them from detentions from other professors. It was even worse for Giovanni, as McGonagall was known for being strict, and Martino, who couldn’t call himself Snape’s favorite. He believed it could be because of Gio and Elia, who were know for being troublemakers. The kind Snape deeply despised.

“Are you free, Gio?” Asked Luca, exchanging amused looks with Elia. “Isn’t McGonagall still on your back for smuggling Firewhisky into Gryffindor’s Common Room?”

“I still can’t believe you managed to do this for two months before she found out,” laughed Martino. Giovanni smoothed out his robe with a sense of pride.

“Well, I’m working on it. I’m gonna get her to lift this detention, you’ll see,” he announced.

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

Martino put his head against the old, cold Hogwarts’ wall, observing his friends bantering over Giovanni’s abilities to work around his detentions. It was hard to keep up with having his three best friends each in a different house. It was even harder to keep up with their stupid ideas and crazy shenanigans. They were constantly getting him into trouble, pulling unimaginable pranks, and making him walk around Hogwarts like a moron just to spend some time together. But they were the most loyal, openminded, and loving people he knew. And he wouldn’t exchange them for anyone in the whole big wizarding world.

[evak-elu-nicotino]

Another Nicotino fic

Smut ensues. 

Please be nice to me haha.

I’m a sucker for this ship, you guys. I also have an unhealthy addiction to Martino’s character.

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Sweat glistened across his forehead, and he smashed his lips against Niccolò’s, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He whispered sweet words into his ear, which made Niccolò chuckle. “Oh, aren’t you the sweetest”, he said, muffling the sounds coming from Martino’s mouth by slipping his tongue between his lips. Marti moaned, low and hot, in-between kisses. The temperature in the room was so incredibly high, Martino thought, he was actually surprised that they didn’t burst into flames yet. Niccolò slipped a hand under his shirt and Marti cursed and panted, short of breath. His hot palm against his warm skin definitely did things to him, affected him more than he could ever put into words. Nico’s mouth against his, his hand against his abs, and the sounds he made…They went straight to his dick every time, which made Marti’s head feel light and dizzy with desire. He needed to breathe, or this would be over way too soon. Pleasure was burning low at the base of his spine, in his stomach, in his lower half, and blood was definitely pooling south. Yeah, he was gonna have a problem very soon, and soon enough Niccolò would smirk like he always does whenever Martino’s aroused like this. As if he was reading his mind, Niccolò crashed his hips against Marti’s, which him made inhale sharply. “Oh my God, Nico, you’re gonna kill me”, he panted, low, hot, against his mouth. Niccolò was looking at him with half-lidded eyes, and lust was written all across his face, cheeks burning. His hands slipped on the curve of Martino’s ass, and he closed his eyes. He was gone. The friction felt actually way too good, and the desire almost burning inside him was on the verge of exploding. He rolled his hips tentatively and that movement made Niccolò whimper. Martino kissed him again, long and hard. “You feel — ah fuck !” Marti slipped his hand between them and reached the elastic band of Nico’s underwear, stroking the skin just before his boxers. Nico’s eyes opened all of a sudden, and Martino shivered. His boyfriend was the picture of debauchery. Cheeks flushed, lips open, short of breath, and his eyes were darker than ever before. “Can I ?” Nico just nodded, pleasure clearly taking him over. Marti slipped his fingers around his dick, and Nico shuddered, gasping into his mouth. “Oh my God Marti…”

He jerked away, tangled in between his sheets, sweating like he just run a marathon. His alarm just went off, and light was pouring his bedroom. Wow. So that was his deal now, he was just gonna have wet dreams of Niccolò, like when he was 14 and had to change his sheets every fuckin’ week ? Slipping his hand under his boxers, Martino just let his dream replay in his mind until his back arched against his sheets, eyes shut, white pleasure sparkling behind his eyelids.

“Oh my God”, he thought way after his orgasm, “no way I’m gonna tell Nico about this. I know we’re together and that’s allowed, but I couldn’t just tell him that I just jerked off on my own thinking about some wet dream I just had about us.” That would definitely mess up his mind.

Marti wiped himself clean, rearranged his bed sheets, and sat back down against the wall, eyes closed, willing himself to cool down. Niccolò definitely was on his mind permanently, even in his dreams. They didn’t go…all the way yet, and that was yet a conversation they were gonna have to have at some point, but Martino could tell how much his boyfriend was affecting him. This was all so new to him. He never got to that level of arousal and excitement with a previous girlfriend, so this was definitely new territory to him. Dammit, he never even slept with a girl. Sure, he kissed some, and certainly not the ugliest ones, but that was that. Not even a handjob of o blowjob, nothing. He didn’t really know how to tell Nico, though. His boyfriend was definitely more experienced than him, he already told him that he had previous experiences with boys and girls alike. So yeah, he would definitely what to do. For some reason, that made Marti calm down. Niccolò wasn’t the kind of guy to force himself on someone, and the bond they shared was definitely respectful and deep, deep enough to have those kind of conversations.

Marti got up, walked to his bedroom door and checked in the kitchen. Mamma Rametta was gone for the day, and he picked up his phone and called Niccolò straight away. He picked up on the second ring. “Hey beautiful, how are you ? - Hi, I just woke up. It’s Saturday after all ! Do you come over ? My mom won’t be home until after seven, she has a long day at work. - Sure, I’ll be there in 10. See you bello.” Niccolò hang up the phone and Martino looked around him. Alright, time for some quick cleaning before Nico arrived, and then they would talk. God knows how Marti needed to.

The bell rang exactly 9 minutes after Marti hang up the phone, and he smiled. Always on time, this boyfriend of his. He opened up the door, and saw Nico’s face smiling up at him. He slipped his hand on the back of his neck, and nuzzled his hair with his nose. “Hi honey”, Niccolò said. Marti’s heart skipped a beat upon hearing the nickname, and his smile grow. They kissed lovingly, greeting each other slowly, actually taking the time to enjoy the kiss. Nico’s licked into Marti’s mouth, and he shivered. Nico moaned, and Marti’s dick twitched into his pants. Okay, wow, he needed to talk before anything happened, because this was getting too much too soon, and he wanted to have a clear mind for that conversation. “Come inside”, he said, stepping back from Niccolò. He raised his eyebrows, smirking, and Marti smacked him on the arm. “Not what I meant, you idiot”, he laughed upon closing the door behind them. Nico sat on the couch, and Martino flopped down next to him. “Hi”, he said, smiling up to his dark-haired and tanned-skin boyfriend. God, he was gorgeous. Nico was mirroring his expression, and they gazed into each other’s eyes for a few minutes, quiet. “Do you want something to drink ?” Marti said, tearing his gaze from Niccolò. He chuckled, and declined. “Well, I actually wanted to…talk to you”, he said, clearing his voice, suddenly nervous. Nico’ gaze on him softened, and he perked up. “I’m listening honey, tell me what’s on your mind”. Martino kissed him, just because he could, and also because he was way too sweet with him. He hesitated. Could he mention the dream though…? Looking up at his boyfriend, seeing the tenderness in his eyes, he just went for it. “I woke up this morning to a raging boner from a wet dream I had of you. Well, of us, I mean”, his words cascaded out of his mouth and he whimpered, closing his eyes. Oh my God, what was wrong with him ? If only the floor could open right now and swallow him whole, that could actually save him from his red cheeks and the embarassment he felt. Against all odds, Nico barked out a laughter. He was actually crying from laughing too much when Martino opened his eyes, smiling a bit himself. “Yeah, I kinda have to admit, it’s pretty funny when you put it that way”, he said, voice low, still a bit embarrassed though. Niccolò put his hand on his shoulder, and Martino repressed a shiver. “Hey, happens to me as well Marti, don’t you worry about it, it’s…quite healthy, from what I’ve heard,” he chuckled, smile playing on his lips. “And when one have a boyfriend as hot and beautiful as you, it’s not really surprising now, is it ?” Marti looked at him disbelivingly. Him, hot and beautiful ? “Have you looked in a mirror recently ? ‘Cause you’re the one who’s hot and beautiful, not me”, he said, voicing this own thoughts out loud before even thinking about it. Nico was so close to him now, he could actually count Martino’s freckles on his nose and cheeks. “Now now, Marti. You clearly don’t see yourself as I see you. Because you’re the hottest person I’ve ever dated, boys and girls included. So underestimate yourself, huh ?” “Really ?” he whispered, still unable to believe Niccolò. Martino knew he wasn’t ugly, but the hottest ? Really ? “The hottest, I said”, Nico said, low and hot into his ear. His smile seemed to mean something Martino didn’t understand. And then, Niccolò took his hand and put it on this thigh, next to his crotch. Oh. Yeah. Martino definitely understood the playful smirk on his boyfriend’s lips now. He raised his eyebrows and kissed him passionately, popping open the buttons of his jeans. Niccolò sighed into the kiss, and closed his eyes. Yeah, Martino was definitely the luckiest guy on the planet.

[azozzoni]

Anon:  can you write something about the boy squad taking marti and nico to some gay club so they don't have to worry about homophobic assholes and they can just be affectionate with each other?

Someone else made a post about this, but idk if it was you, anon, or someone else.

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Martino isn’t entirely convinced this is a good idea, not after the last couple of weeks, even if Filippo assures them it’s safe, and completely necessary

“How are we going to get in?” Martino asks when Filippo proposes the idea. “We’re not all eighteen.”

“Leave that to me, Rose,” Filippo assures him, and Martino doesn’t know what he did, but they all get into the club—Gio, Martino, Luca, Elia, and Niccolò.

“Wow,” Luca breathes beside Martino as they follow Filippo through the crowd. Martino has never been out with Filippo, mostly because he’s not eighteen yet and also because he’s never felt the need to go to a gay club in all the time he’s been out.

The club looks almost exactly like Martino pictured it, with rainbow flags behind the bar, guys dancing together on the dance floor, some sort of techno-pop music blaring as colorful lights flash over them.

“Have fun,” Filippo tells them, a hand on Martino’s shoulder, shouting over the music. “You don’t have to worry here.”

Martino wants to believe that. He wants to believe there are safe places in the world, where he can just be with Nico, places that aren’t his bedroom or Nico’s living room.

“There are so many guys,” Luca says, staring out at the dance floor, and Gio laughs, clapping his shoulder.

“It’s called a gay bar for a reason, Luchi.”

“Elia,” Filippo says from across the circle, and Martino feels Nico shifting closer, taking his hand carefully, as if testing the waters. “Come dance with me.”

Elia’s eyebrows go up at the question, and he looks around at the rest of the guys. Gio hides his laughter behind his hand, and Martino shakes his head at Filippo.

“Uh, okay,” he says after a second, and Filippo grabs his wrist and tugs him into the crowd.

“Go on,” Gio says, nodding at Martino. “I’ll watch Luchi. Make sure he doesn’t accidentally hit on anyone.”

Luca isn’t even listening, gazing around at all the guys squished in the club. Martino opens his mouth to say that they don’t have to go anywhere, that he’s fine just hanging out, but Nico’s fingers squeeze his hand. Taking a breath, he pushes down the anxiety rising in his chest and lets Nico tug him away, onto the dance floor.

“I can see you thinking,” Nico says, and Martino can’t help glancing around as Nico’s hands land on his waist. He just can’t get it out of his head, what happened the last time they even smiled at each other in public.

This is different, though. There’s a couple making out against the wall, another grinding together on the dance floor, and Martino is scared of Nico’s hands resting lightly on his waist.

“Aren’t you worried?” he asks as they sway with the music, not really dancing, and he doesn’t care about any of the other people around them as Nico leans in closer so he doesn’t have to shout, brushing a hand through Martino’s hair, falling to the back of his neck as he nods.

“All the time,” he admits, and Martino lifts his gaze to Nico’s. “And it’s not something that will ever go away, for either of us.”

Martino hates that it’s true. Reaching for Nico, he twines his arms around his shoulders, sighing deeply as he pulls Nico in close. He shouldn’t have to worry, here, with people who are just like them all around. No one even glances their way as they embrace. It’s a refreshing change, and even though Martino knows it’s temporary, he thinks maybe he needed this.

“We should listen to Filo,” he says, feeling Nico’s hands on the small of his back, moving back enough so he can see Nico’s face in the colored, flashing lights. “Have fun tonight.”

A smile grows on Nico’s face and he takes Martino’s face in his hands. “I love you, Marti,” he says, and even though Martino’s chest seizes up when Nico leans in and kisses him, he doesn’t duck out of the way. Nico has always been bolder than him.

Nothing happens. No one even looks. And Martino feels strangely relieved, elated even when Nico pulls back.

“I love you too,” he whispers, nose pressed to Nico’s, and he kisses the grin off Nico’s face a second later.

“Guys!”

Elia interrupts them, pushing his way through the crowd to reach them, and Martino glances over.

“Guys,” Elia says again as he reaches them, face flushed. “I think Filo is flirting with me.”

Nico laughs into Martino’s shoulder, and Martino sighs. “Do you need me to tell him to stop?”

Elia actually looks embarrassed for a second, and Martino isn’t sure why. “I think I might have flirted back,” he says slowly. Martino stares. “I was wondering what I should do next.”

Martino doesn’t know what to say, and he elbows Nico as he only grins in response.

“Do next,” he repeats, as though his brain isn’t fully processing what Elia is saying.

“Obviously you should just kiss him,” Nico says, and Martino splutters, turning to him.

“Ni!” He doesn’t think that’s a good idea since, hello, Elia isn’t into guys?

Elia nods, though, like he’s actually considering it. Martino has no idea what’s going on. Are gay clubs somehow magical places that turn everyone gay?

“What?” Nico asks, squeezing Martino’s side. “He wasn’t into Silvia. I want to fulfill my dreams of being a matchmaker.”

“But with Filo?” Martino asks, glancing at Elia. “Are you into him?”

Elia shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. He’s hot.”

Groaning, Martino doesn’t know what to say. Elia is going to do whatever he wants, and he can’t stop his boyfriend from giving terrible advice.

“If you like him, go for it,” Niccolò says despite Martino rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, okay,” Elia agrees as though Nico has said something profound, and he disappears into the crowd before Martino can stop him. Shooting Nico a look, he’s met with Nico’s innocent face—the one he uses when he knows he’s done something devious.

“This isn’t going to end well,” he says, but Nico shakes his head, grinning at Martino.

“Tonight, we don’t have to worry about anything,” he says simply, pulling Martino back to him, swaying his hips with the music, and Martino can’t help smiling. He feels relaxed finally, safe, with Niccolò, surrounded by people who don’t give two fucks about anything they’re doing.

“It’s not fair!”

Luca’s voice cuts through the crowd, and Martino looks behind him to Luca and Gio heading towards them.

“You can’t help it, Luchi,” Gio assures him as they reach Martino and Nico.

“Even gay guys don’t want me,” Luca says with a pathetic frown, and Gio shakes his shoulder.

“We’re still working on Silvia. She’ll come around.”

“What happened?” Martino asks, and Gio shakes his head.

“Three guys gave Gio their number,” Luca supplies. “Three!”

“You’ll get your day in the sun, Luchino,” Nico assures him. “How about you dance with us and forget about all your problems.”

Martino thinks he was right as the song changes and Nico persuades Luca to bounce along with him. This really is a magical place.  

[greenlightfic]

Maybe it’ll work out in the end

 Tuesday 18:45 – March 31, 2020 – It’s out of our hands

 Edoardo’s half sitting, half laying down on Nico’s couch. Lately, he hasn’t been feeling well on his own, so he takes every opportunity he has to be around people. This time Nico needed a model for some sketches and he offered himself. But that task was finished almost thirteen minutes ago, now he’s just scrolling through Instagram, thinking of a reason to stay there until Fede comes home, while his friend is in the other room talking on the phone. Therefore, he’s alone, and he doesn’t like it.

The front door opens behind him and Edoardo stretches himself to glance at the entrance.

“Hi!” Martino smiles at him when he closes the door.

“Hey, man” Edo sits up and bump fits with his friend.

“Where’s Nico?” Marti asks looking around.

“His mom called” Edoardo explains and moves for Marti to sit comfortably next to him.

“How was modeling?” The tall guy fixes his wild curls thinking. “Alright, I guess? My neck hurts a little bit” he shrugs smiling.

“Don’t tell him that” Martino whispers “he’ll feel guilty”.

“Got it” Edoardo gives him an accomplice smile. “How was your class?” He asks after a second of silence.

“Meh” the redhead makes a face. “Boring”.

“The boring ones are the ones that stick”.

“I almost fell asleep” Marti complains laughing.

“Ok, then you won’t learn anything” They both laugh. It’s nice to be around Martino. He has a particular sense of humor but once you get used to it, it’s impossible not to like him. He’s also very introvert, and it’s never asking too many questions or making Edo feel uncomfortable. And more important, he loves Nico, madly, and Edoardo likes that. He likes to see his friend with someone who actually understands him as a whole and not just an illness. He likes Martino. He really does.

“What’s up with you?”

“Huh?” Edoardo doesn’t know where Marti is going with that question.

“Chicco told us you were ‘busy’ Sunday’s night” he makes quoting marks on the air in the word ‘busy’ and smiles mischievously.

“Not a big deal, I swear” Edoardo looks at his hands.

“Well I think it’s great!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, perfect time. I’ve heard like four different people talking about you and Ele secretly dating. Chicco even tried to talk me into a bet, so this will shut them up” he laughs and quickly stops when he notices Edoardo isn’t laughing with him.

“Edoardo?” Marti’s looking at him with his forehead furrowed. “Were you-”

“It wasn’t Ele. The girl, it wasn’t her”. He assures.

“Okay”. Marti nods.

“I really care about her and everything but, you know. It’s not like that” Edoardo murmurs playing with his sweater. He isn’t very sure of why he’s talking but now he confessed his crush to someone he feels like he needs to put his feelings into words, and he needs other people opinions, especially if those other people know the focus of his crush better than he does.

“Okay…” Marti affirmation sounds more like a question to Edoardo’s ears. He just nods, hoping for Martino to change the topic, or for Niccolò to end the call and come back to the room.

“Edo” Martino sighs loud, soberly forcing his friend to look at him. He does and Marti struggles to let the words out. “If… there’s something you want to say” he moves his hand, trying to make Edoardo understand what he is thinking. “If there’s something you want to say” he repeats with more enthusiasm “I think you should say it to Eleonora.” Edoardo just looks at him. “She’s the most attentive person I know, and she won’t crush your heart just for the sake of it”. Marti holds his gaze, “I understand it can be hard, but if you don’t clear things up, it would end up disturbing your friendship and you two seem to really enjoy being around each other. So…”

“I get it” Edoardo cuts him off because he can’t listen to it any longer. He’s already messed up; he doesn’t need to add more to it.

“Yeah. I love you, too” they both hear Nico walking to them and Edo turns to face Marti, nervous.

“Don’t worry” Marti assures him. “It’s our secret” he smiles patting his friend’s leg and stands up to greet his boyfriend.

“Hey!” Niccolò’s face lights up when he sees Martino, who quickly walks to him and kiss him on the lips. Niccolò instantly smiles into the kiss and Edoardo envies them. He envies their domesticity, their simplicity, the fact they both know they’re safe and… loved.

“I thought you were talking alone” Nico turns to him.

“I’m one exam away from that” he jokes and the three boys laugh.

Martino’s phone rings on his backpack and he sits back again, searching for it. “What did you lie to your mother with?” Martino speaks looking at Nico.

“Nothing!” he replies offended. “I didn’t lie to her.”

“Then why is she ca- oh.” Marti changes his tone mind-sentence and takes the call. “Hey”.

“Why?” He asks to his interlocutor suspiciously and Edoardo shares a look with Niccolò, both confused. “What? Are you serious?” Marti exclaims getting up and half running to the door, even though it’s less than ten steps away from the couch. Nico walks behind him and Edoardo follows close.

Martino opens the door and, from behind his friend, Edoardo catches a glimpse of platinum blonde hair.

“My son!” Filippo shouts hugging Marti very tight and Edoardo notices Elia next to his boyfriend, smiling at them. “My beloved, boring son” Filippo say ruffling Martino’s hair.

“When did you arrive?” Nico asks, walking to him. Filippo lets Marti go to hug Niccolò. The hug is one with affection but it’s different to the one Edoardo just saw him gave Martino. Martino’s hug reminds Edoardo of the one Filippo gave Eleonora.

“Last night” He replies smiling at Nico and rising a brow to Edoardo when he spots him in the back. Meanwhile Elia made his way into the apartment and is now patting Edo’s shoulder.

“And what have you been doing until now?” Martino demands, trying to sound angry.

“What do you think?” Filippo laughs and Edoardo sees Elia covering his face with both hands, trying to hide his red checks.

“Oh” Martino says laughing. “Sorry, Filo, this is-” He’s walking to Edoardo, with Filippo following him. “Edoardo, we already met” Filo cuts him with a smile. “Last night he was at Ele’s when I arrived” Filippo’s smiling smugly again and Edoardo feels the heat increasing.

“Oh.” Marti replies.

“And now that my sister isn’t here to control me, we can finish our conversation” He says resting his hand on Edo’s shoulder. “What is your Hogwarts house, Edoardo?” Edo laughs and his friends join him, what else can they do?

 Wednesday 15:10 – April 1, 2020 – I don’t want this to break you

 Edoardo and Alice have things clear. Alice decided to made them clear right after they slept together for the first time. She likes him, she feels attracted to him, but she doesn’t want to be his girlfriend. She just wants to have a good time with a nice guy. And Edoardo agrees. He does want to move on from his crush but he doesn’t want a relationship, it wouldn’t be fair for his partner, so he’s okay with Alice’s boundaries.

Edoardo tried to make her stay longer because he still doesn’t feel alright being all by himself but the girl has her own things to do, things that doesn’t involve the guy she’s sleeping with, which means Edo can tag alone. So, here they are, outside Edoardo’s building, saying goodbye, and it really could’ve been it but it isn’t and Edoardo has nowhere to hide when Fede’s car parks right next to his. They meet eyes and he know his friend’s panicking as much as he is right now but he can’t run inside or push Alice away, every person inside Federico’s car saw him and he now has to face it.

His friends get out of the car one by one and Alice turns around at the sound of doors closing. She smiles awkwardly when she recognizes Fede who, politely greets her with a kiss on the cheek.

The six of them look at each other in silence until Edo shoves his hands down his jeans’ pockets, clearing his throat. “Alice these are my friends: Giovanni, Sana and… Eleonora”. He watches her shake each one of their hands. Giovanni smiles courteously but Edoardo notices his eyes going from the girl to Eleonora and then back at him. Sana, in the other hand, looks at Alice’s eyes but her smile is less warm than Gio’s, and Eleonora looks at him, as if she were waiting for any sort of confirmation to an answer she hasn’t made, and then smiles at Alice. Edoardo would have given up all his money for that smile to show something: jealousy, discomfort, anything at all. But if Eleonora’s feeling any of those feelings she’s extremely good at hiding them.

“It’s really nice meeting you all but I was leaving, so...” Alice says looking at no one in particular.

“I’ll drive you”. Edo interferes.

“No, it’s okay. It’s no far from here” she smiles.

“You sure?” Edo asks watching her closing the distance between them and he silently prays for her to not kiss him on the lips. No in front of Eleonora.

“I’m sure” she smiles softly and kisses his cheek, placing a hand on the other one. “I’ll see you guys, around” she farewells his friend with the same smile and quickly walks away. They all watch her disappear in the corner of the street in silence. Edoardo’s scared of turning to face his friends.

“Next time,” Sana positions in front of him, amused. “Send a sock to the group chat” she pats his chest and starts walking to the door. Gio looks at him with worry but reminds silence, while Eleonora just smiles shyly to him and follows Sana’s steps.

“I’m sorry” Fede whispers next to him. “I didn’t think you…”

“It’s okay” he tries to smile. “It’s was just… bad timing. Not your fault”. Federico nods twitching his mouth to the side and pats his back.

 Thursday 16:16 – April 2, 2020 – Don’t want to find I’ve lost it all

 Edoardo walks into the Caffè looking for a redhead boy between the people. It isn’t a very big Caffè but it is elongated and, just as Edo imagined, Martino’s almost at the end, next to the closed kitchen, in a small wood table, reading a book.

Martino lift up his head when Edoardo’s almost in front of him and smiles closing his book. “I already ordered two espressos. I hope it’s okay” Marti says, greeting his friend.

“Sure!” Edoardo gets comfortable on his seat in front of his friend. “Thank you” he says with meaning and the look on Marti’s eyes confirms him that the redhead boy understands he’s not only thanking him for the coffee. “Does Nico know we’re here?” Edoardo asks him while the waitress walks to them, and once their coffees are settles in between them Marti speaks. “No, he thinks I’m with some classmates. I didn’t know if you… wanted him to know” he shrugs drinking.

“Thank you” Edo repeats. “Fede’s the only one who knows. Well, and you now”.

“Filippo has his doubts” Marti says smiling, “but there’s any confirmation yet, so…”

“Do you know what you wanna do?” Martino asks him after a few seconds of silently drinking.

“I don’t know. It’s pretty new, you know? I don’t want to tell her or anyone until I’m sure it won’t go away as fast as it came.” He explains playing with the spoon on his coffee cup. Martino nods.

“What did it trigger it? Did you saw her naked or something?” his friend jokes, lighting up the mood.

“Remember the night the power went off?” he waits for an answer and Martino nods. “She was at my place and she end up spending the night there and… I don’t know. It felt different. Like…” he struggles to find the words to describe his feelings.

“Like you actually saw her for the first time?” Marti tries, smiling to himself. “You know, when I first met Nico, I felt attracted to him but it wasn’t until we were alone at his house for the first time that I felt like… it was real. I fell in love with him right there.”

“I’m not in love with Eleonora”. Edoardo rapidly corrects him.

“I know, but what I mean” he moves his hands, finding the right words, “I mean that being just the two of you in some sort of intimate situation triggered your feelings. Maybe you liked her since you met her but you weren’t… ready” Martino holds his gaze to empathize his speech.

“You know her better than most of us”. Edoardo speaks throwing his hands in the air, exhausted. “What do I have to do? And please be clear. I’m losing my mind” he massages his forehead.

Martino finishes his coffee before speaking. “I think you should ask yourself what do you really want and if it is Eleonora and it is real, then you should tell her. Explicitly tell her what you feel and what you want.” Edoardo’s looking at him with attention, he wants to remember every word. “She’s a really cautious person, and she has her reasons but you can scape relationships or… feelings forever. And you can’t hide either. What a better time that now, right?”

“And if she doesn’t feel the same and I fuck it up? Even all of us as a group won’t be the same. I don’t want to mess up all of us for just a crush”. Edoardo keeps telling himself there’s no reason for his feelings to be out if they aren’t reciprocated, it would only bring complications to too many people’s lives.

“I understand that” Marti speaks slow. “When Gio and Eva broke up, it was hard for all of us. They were always avoiding each other but we went through it and eventually they shared a room and no one died. Yeah, it was awkward at first but it’s not the end of the world.” Edoardo just nods, what else can he do? If Eleonora rejects him, it would be awful but, at least, he wouldn’t have to look away every time their eyes meet in a room.

“Okay” he whispers uncertain.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Martino smiles and lifts his empty mug to him. Edoardo does the same and their cups bump gently. “Good luck, man!” Marti says genuinely, what makes Edo smiles. He knows Eleonora could hurt him but he also knows his friends aren’t going anywhere and that’s enough for now.

 Friday 12:15 – April 3, 2020 – I wonder can I give you what you need

 Edoardo’s extremely nervous. He’s moving a leg, crazily typing his fingers against the table, unlocking his phone each time the screen goes back, just to see the clock moving way too slow for his nerves to resist any longer.

Filippo Sava messaged him on Instagram, asking him to meet, just the two of them. And maybe it is him who read it wrong but it felt like he was being very serious about it and that scared Edoardo.

And now here he is, really nervous, waiting for the coffee shop’s door to be opened by Filippo, who suddenly appears in front of his eyes, walking like he owns the place. Edoardo wishes Filo wasn’t wearing sunglasses, so he could try to decode the atmosphere of their reunion on his eyes, because, honestly, he doesn’t have a clue of what to expect.

Filippo spots him effortlessly and reaches him in no time. Edoardo gets up from his seat when Filippo extends a hand to him, he shakes it smiling and sits down again. Filo takes off his glasses, looks at Edoardo’s eyes and then sits down in front of him. Not -already known- smirk on his face.

“Sorry I made you wait. Elia tried to talk me out of this at the last minute”. He says casually.

“It’s ok. I haven’t been here for long” Edoardo lies shamelessly. He sat there and waited for the blonde guy to show up for ten long and painful minutes, but there’s no force in Heaven -or Hell- that would make him admit that.

“Did you already order?”

“Uh, no. I was waiting for you”.

“How nice of you” Filo smiles at him for what it feels like the first time. He calls the waiter and asks him -with Edoardo consent- for two cappuccinos. Once the guy leaves him, the older guys turns to faces him again. “Thank you for accepting to meet me. I’m leaving tonight, and I didn’t want to let this opportunity goes by”. Filippo’s very good with eyes contact and one-at-one conversations, Edoardo easily realizes that and it makes his nervousness even more notorious. Or at least he thinks it does. He just nods with a small smile. “You aren’t missing any classes, right?”

“Just one but my teacher doesn’t even notice it. I raised my hand when he said my name and then left. It’s okay” he smiles and Filippo laughs. “The best teachers, if you ask me” Filo jokes and Edo feels a bit more comfortable in his presence.

“Weren’t you staying the whole week?” Edoardo asks, feeling more confidence. Maybe he did read the messages wrong and Filippo only wanted to hang out.

“Yeah but there’s a party I need to cover, so…” he shrugs, not very excited about leaving.

“I’ve seen your photos. You’re really good. I mean, not like I actually know something about photography but even for me, someone who doesn’t know shit, they look very good”. The boy has been stalking Filippo’s Instagram since he followed him. But he hasn’t paid too much attention to the last fifty -or so- photos. He has gone deeper, the photos posted when Filippo wasn’t professionally recognized yet and all his pictures were mostly about Eleonora in multiple scenarios. Edoardo really like those photos.

“Thanks!” Filo grins and reminds silence when the waitress approaches them. Once the coffees are settled down and they’re both alone, Filippo’s smiles fades.

“Look, don’t take it wrong okay?” he starts, moving his hands between them. “But of all the things I’d like to do in my last hours here, having a conversation with you about my work is one of the lasts”.

“O-Ok…” Edoardo feels cold all over his back. What the hell did he do wrong?

“I told myself I wouldn’t interfere because it’s not my place, I know that. But the other night Eleonora was pretty moody and after gossiping around I heard that, casually, she met your new girlfriend or hook up or whatever you were doing that same day. So, I decided I needed to get involved, because, Edoardo, I don’t believe in coincidences.” His words are fast but meaningful and the curly-haired guy doesn’t know how to reply.

“I know what you’re thinking right know” he continues after taking a sip of his coffee and Edoardo doesn’t believe him. It’s impossible for Filippo to know what he’s thinking when he has no clue himself. “I know you may be thinking ‘what the fuck is wrong with this dude’ and I get, all right? I would’ve already left if I were in your position, but Ele… She’s the most important thing to me and I need to take care of her, okay? It has always been like that.” Filo’s voice softened immediately when he named his sister and Edoardo can see how much he loves her, how important they’re for one another. It makes him feel miserable. Since the first time Eleonora talked to him about her brother, he has tried, really tried, to think about a universe where he has had a relationship like that with Andrea, some parallel universe where his brother has died for him but he can’t. His reality is awfully far away from the Sava sibling.

“I know” he murmurs absent.

“You know?” Filippo asks, incredulous.

“Yeah. She told me about your parents”.

“She told you that?” Confusion is the only expression he’s showing and in other circumstances Edoardo would be amused but the bitterness of Andrea’s memory still affects him.

“Yes, she did. Not too long ago, though.” He dares to lock eyes with the older guys, who nods in respond.

“What else did she tell you? Filippo asks. “About her past, I mean” he clarifies nodding, assuring Edoardo that it’s okay to talk to him.

“Uh…” Edoardo’s skeptical, is it okay to talk about her when she’s not around? He thinks it isn’t but the person asking is her brother, the one she’s the closest to. He probably knows every story Eleonora has told him. “She told me about her… ex” he mutters, uncertain.

“What exactly?”

“That he… uh… he wasn’t… nice?” he tries, slowly and he can literally see Filippo’s expression changing into a furious one in a split of a second. “Nice?!” He repeats way too loud. “She told you that piece of shit wasn’t nice to her?” he speaks between his teeth, lowering his voice. Edoardo nods and Filippo rubs his face frustrated, opens his mouth, closes it, closes his eyes, exhales noisily and then look at Edoardo again. “I know boundaries, okay? I know it seems like I don’t but I do. So, I would only tell you one thing: that massive piece of garbage… My sister put a restriction order against him. You don’t do that to someone who isn’t nice” he spits the last word with hatred and if Edoardo wasn’t too shock for the new information he would’ve notice Filippo’s voice trembling when he said ‘my sister’.

“I didn’t know” he says feeling small.

“Of course, you didn’t!” Filippo scoffs and, after calming down, he speaks again. “Eleonora has a boyfriend when she was young. I didn’t get involved back then because I was young and reckless and, well… selfish.” He sounds ashamed and guilty. “That relationship affected her. It affected her heath” Filo notices Edoardo furrowed brows and slows down. “It wasn’t just him. It was our parents, moving out, me being a selfish prick who put too much pression on her, and him. I think he was the breaking point” Edoardo wants to ask what exactly happened to her but Filippo’s immersed in his story, so immersed that if Edoardo asked, he wouldn’t even hear him.

“We moved back to Rome, just us. She met her friends and she moved on, recovered. Then almost two years after that she met who, at the time, I thought was a friend. We shared some classes; he was cool, handsome and older. I wasn’t trying to play matchmaker with my sister but they just… hit it off, I guess.” He makes a disgusted face and inhales, as if it were hard for him to continue. “I was still a selfish prick and decided not to get involved. Even when she was an underage and had way less experiences than him. I never got involved, not when they fought, not when he’d ask me where she was all the time. I didn’t do anything. And I know, I know that if I would’ve said something back then, if I would’ve pay attention to the signs, things would’ve developed differently”. Filippo finally looks at Edoardo and it seems like he has aged five years in only a few minutes. “I’m not repeating my mistakes, Edoardo. I’m getting involve now. I don’t know what this thing between the two of you is but I’m not sitting and waiting for you to hurt her”.

The two boys look at each other in completely different silences. The older one is expectant, waiting for the guy in front of him to defend himself, to tell him he’s worthy of his sister. Meanwhile, Edo’s speechless, finding out so many new things about Eleonora, being compared to her exes and the idea of exposing his own past to Filippo, just for him to understand he’s not like those guys, that he’s worthy of his sister.

“First of all,” Edoardo stars talking, avoiding Filo’s eyes. “I am not like that”. He pauses to let to words settle into Filippo’s mind. “I would never, ever, treat anyone like that. Much less Eleonora. I care about her; I really do and I would never hurt her wittingly.” The guy in front of him doesn’t make a sound, moving the spoon inside the mug, listening carefully. “And I’m not trying to make you feel better” he continues, “but I’ve seen selfish. I know selfishness very well, and you’re not that. You were a teenager trying to balance adolescence with being on your own and it’s not easy. I know it isn’t easy. I’ve been in my own, too. I’ve fucked it up, too. But unlike you and Ele… I don’t have a sibling to lean into. From my perspective, you two had made it better than most of us”.

“Thank you” Filippo whispers and if Edoardo didn’t know who he was, he would never picture Filo as the exuberant one, not with the look he’s giving him right now.

“Eleonora and I are just friends and I don’t think that would change anytime soon. But if it does changes someday, you can trust me here: I would never hurt her or disrespect her. I swear on my life.” There’s no point to hide his feelings for Eleonora to Filippo, no after the conversation they just had. He’s going to deal with the consequences later, he decides, but he doesn’t want to give out the half-truth.

“She can be hard sometimes but if you’re persistent. Well, you may have a chance”. Filippo’s normal attitude is back on and Edoardo wants to laugh, loud.

“Do I have your blessing?” he half jokes.

“You’ve had my blessing since I saw you two interact the other day” Filo shrugs and gives Edoardo a knowing look, who feels his cheek heats. “You need to promise you won’t fuck it up, though. She had had enough already. She deserves calmness, no chaos.”

Edoardo nods, convinced that if someday he has a chance with her, he won’t fuck it up.

 Friday 20:55 – April 3, 2020 – You’ve gone quiet

 Edoardo has dialed her number at least ten times since his meeting with Filippo, but still, he can’t make himself press the button. What exactly does he want to tell her? Isn’t it better if he texts her? Or maybe he could go to see her, it isn’t too late for that, isn’t it?

He decides calling is the best option. Maybe they could hang out tomorrow, and he could tell her what is going on in his mind. Yeah, he’s gonna do that.

He presses the button: one tone, two tones, three, four and five. It goes to the voice mail. Filippo told him he would catch a train around 20:00hs, maybe she’s coming back home from the train station. He tries again, but this time it goes directly to the voice mail, as if she purposely hanged up.

A message from Alice pops up on his screen and Edoardo deletes the notification without even reading the message. He shouldn’t have gotten involve with her. It isn’t fair to anyone. It only adds more complications to his already complicated state.

The curly-haired boy throws his phone next to him in the bed and lays down. Frustration, tiredness, hurt. He isn’t sure of what he is feeling right now but he knows it isn’t good. He will wait until tomorrow; he says himself covering his face with both hands. Tomorrow he will try to see her and maybe, just maybe he will have better luck.

[faresramettas]

prima di sorridere un po’ (eng trans, repost)

i decided to take my translation of this italian fic of mine off ao3 because i never really liked the idea of translating it in the first place, and when i see it between my works it doesn’t make me happy. i’m sorry! i definitely have a love/hate relationship with this fic and its translation, however i don’t want it to be completely gone because it’s over 3k too and it took time and effort, so i’ll be posting it here. 

a couple of notes before reading: this is set in june next year, when marti is about to take maturità. maturità is the exam italian students take at the end of the 5 years of high school. notte prima degli esami (the night before exams) is a song about maturità and peak italian culture. there’s even a movie about it. the night before exams is supposed to be a big deal.

read below!

Martino was screwed. The day before maturità, when all he wanted to do was drown his sorrows in liters of beer, the truth was that he was behind on his history program, he hadn’t even touched his literature book and if he had to translate another text from Greek he’d throw up on the dictionary. His days were split between study groups, Eva and the girls for history and philosophy, Giovanni, Elia and Luchino for maths, only to go back home and keep revising, head bent over his desk or lying on his bed surrounded by books. Martino was good at school, he’d finished his essay a month ago, he had nothing to worry about, his mom kept telling him to reassure him. But anxiety was the issue, that fear of disappointing his and other people’s expectations that twisted his stomach and wouldn’t make him sleep. On top of that, he hadn’t seen Niccolò in almost a week. Martino had been the one to reluctantly force this distance, after the umpteenth study afternoon turned make-out session, turned fucking on his bed. “I can help you study, you know.” “You know perfectly well that when we’re together we never end up doing shit,” Marti had replied, running his fingers through Nico’s sweaty curls sticking to his forehead. “Case in point.” “But we barely see each other,” Nico had whined, rolling to lie on top of him. Marti had chuckled and wrapped his arms around his waist. It was almost the end of June and Rome was already too hot. Nico, naked and glued to him from chest to ankles, definitely wasn’t helping him fight the heat but Marti would have never complained. “I know, Ni. Just for a few days. I need to focus on terza prova. Then you can help me prepare for the oral exam.” “Okay,” Nico had sighed, a slow smirk making its way on his face. “Nerd.” “Fuck off. In case you forgot, you have exams, too,” Marti had teased him. Nico had rolled his eyes and mocked him. Marti had pinched his sides in retaliation and flipped their position in one swift move, earning himself a surprised gasp from Nico, who’d looked at him and pulled him down by his hair for a kiss. Schopenhauer can wait, Marti had thought. He missed Nico. They talked on the phone every day but it wasn’t the same. He was right, they’d been seeing each other less since he’d started university. It was an inevitable change that they’d made up for in advance, spending the previous summer always glued to each other. But they’d adapted to it, more or less, at least until January. Nico hadn’t been able to take all the exams he'd planned on his first winter session because his head had had other plans. Martino had been by his side every day, from the moment Anna had called him on Wednesday to tell him Niccolò hadn’t shown up to his first exam and was refusing to get out of bed. He had rushed to his house after school and all he’d needed was one good look at him to understand how bad it was and that Nico wouldn’t say a word. So he’d just laid down next to him, hugged him and stroked his hair, whispering in his ear that he was there, that he’d have to go home tonight because he hadn’t warned his mom but tomorrow he’d be back and sleep with him. The next day he’d brought a duffel bag with a change of clothes and his toothbrush at school and had asked his mom if he could sleep over at Niccolò’s for a couple of days, that had eventually turned into four. Finally, on the third day, Nico had gotten everything that was torturing him out, an avalanche of self-pitying and distorted opinions on his worth that Martino wanted to pull like weeds. “I should have never enrolled in uni. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing there. I don’t even know if I like sociology. I’m just wasting my time and flushing my parents’ money down the toilet. As if I wasn’t causing them enough problems already. I can’t do anything, I’m just a burden to everyone I know.” Marti had let him vent because he’d learned it was the best thing to do, even when listening to those words filled him with anguish. Marti’s heart broke every time Nico’s head didn’t allow him to see just how wonderful he was. In those moments, Marti wished he could lend Nico his eyes so he could see himself through them. “And you, Marti? I don’t even know where you find the patience to bother with me. You don’t deserve to have a noose around your neck at eighte—” He had interrupted him, then. He’d taken Nico’s face in his hands and looked him straight in the eyes, and one by one he’d tore down every single unfounded word that had come out of his mouth until Nico had stopped crying and had given him a small smile full of gratitude. Marti had spent the next two days on a mission to make him feel better. Cuddling him, taking a bath together, changing his sheets, making Nico eat and smile in front of his parents too, following the minute by minute motto that had become a pillar of their lives, a philosophy they’d both embraced outside of their relationship too. Three weeks later, they had celebrated Nico acing his first exam. Nico hadn’t had episodes as bad as that one in months and Martino hoped that the summer session wouldn’t bring a relapse. Although Nico still talked about his doubts on his choice of university every once in a while, he’d managed to settle in and make some friends. He still preferred the company of Martino and his friends, though, who scolded him all the time, because instead of helping them sneak into university parties full of hot girls, he was still spending his Friday nights drinking Peccio’s artisanal beer with them and listening to Giovanni’s relationship woes. Two years after their breakup and despite the short Argentina chapter, Giovanni still hadn't gotten over Eva and had decided he would try one last time before the end of their exams. Nico had been offended by their comments. He knew he was welcome. Martino had met his new acquaintances and, as nice as they were, his friends were better. Giovanni, Elia and Luchino had complained, yesterday, about Niccolò’s absence, because he’d always helped them study in the previous weeks and most importantly, as a survivor of the worst maturità in history, he had helped them not panic. “The last days are crucial, bro. Nico could’ve helped us,” Luchino had said. “Well, I can’t focus when he’s around. If you miss him so much, you can always text him, okay?” Martino had snapped. “Okay, calm down,” Elia had commented. Marti had swallowed and apologized. “Sorry, bro. I’m freaking out.” Gio had squeezed his shoulder and stared at him with that searching look he always had when he understood that something was wrong. Martino had sighed and complained about the derivatives exercises he couldn’t solve to change the topic, asking Elia for help. Because, yes, Elia was the best at maths out of all of them, although no one would have guessed. They had started seeing each other less and less sometime around April. Because Marti’s study load had tripled in an attempt to raise his grades in the last months of school and write his final essay in advance, so as not to worry about it in June. Because Nico, maybe suddenly nostalgic of Radio Osvaldo, had joined the university radio as a volunteer and had started giving piano lessons to earn some money, something that would give him a sense of independence. Those weekends spent in bed that used to be their routine were almost a miracle now. They barely managed to see each other twice a week, and never for two days in a row. It was hard, but Marti knew that it wasn’t forever. He cheered himself up thinking that soon they’d have entire weeks of sweet nothing and that they’d take a trip to Berlin together to celebrate Martino’s maturità on the first week of August. Niccolò wouldn’t stop talking about it, how he couldn’t wait to be there, to see the East Side Gallery and the Museum Island, to go to bars, to have Martino alone to himself in a hotel room for five days, and Martino had started counting down the days in his head, because Niccolò was Olympic champion of contagious enthusiasm. But today was the day before maturità and Martino was screwed. Because of all the stress and anxiety, he had slept six hours in total over three nights and he was on edge. Maybe that’s why when Niccolò showed up at his front door unannounced in the late afternoon, he didn’t react the way he would have expected too. “Ni, what are you doing here?” “I missed you,” Niccolò said, kissing him on the lips and making his way into the living room. “Don’t you want to spend the night before exams with me?” he added, chuckling. “Yes,” Martino replied, hesitating. He immediately recognized the signs of Niccolò’s impulsive behavior in his jerky head movements and the way his hands were shaking, and he furrowed his brows, worried. “But I have to study.” “For what? It’s just an essay.” “For everything else…” Martino mumbled. There was a small part of him that was almost flattered that Niccolò couldn't resist more than six days before knocking on his door, but something about his teasing was ticking him off. Maybe Niccolò got it from the tone of his voice and he stepped closer, resting a gentle hand on his neck and searching his eyes. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” “Of course, I am,” Marti smiled at him, trying to relax. “I can leave if you want, huh,” Niccolò said, raising his brows and tilting his head. Marti shook his head. “Stay. But I really have to study. At least another couple of hours. Then we can do whatever you want.” He didn’t want to kick Niccolò out but he hoped he’d been clear: no distractions allowed. “Okay, okay. Don’t worry,” Niccolò said, taking his hand and leading them to Martino’s room. “How are you? What are you studying?” “Greek. I wanna die.” “Shut up and be grateful you didn’t have last year’s fucking latin-greek combo,” Niccolò said, throwing himself on Martino’s bed while Martino resumed his place at his desk. He smiled, remembering the desperation on the fifth-year boys’ faces when the new seconda prova with both languages was announced. The worst maturità in history. And luckily, the only one. Marti picked up his copies of old translations, scribbled with pencil on the margins and heavily underlined. He wasn’t bad at it, obviously Latin was easier than Greek, but he couldn’t wait to abandon these shitty dead languages, like Giovanni always called them. Niccolò managed to stay put on his bed for about 10 minutes before he came behind Martino and bent down to hug his shoulders. Martino had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. He didn’t know why having Niccolò around was bothering him. He didn’t like feeling like this. It’d never happened before, and Martino knew it was his problem. “Ni,” he warned him. “Marti,” Nico replied, sing-songy. That unpleasant feeling twisting Marti’s stomach just kept building up. “I’m in deep shit, Ni. I mean it.” “Just spend ten minutes with me, what difference does it make? You barely said hi to me,” he said, with a sweet whiny voice. Martino was sure he was pouting too. “Can you wait until I finish this? Please, please, please," he begged too, looking up. If Nico could pout, he could use his puppy eyes. “Okay, okay,” Nico sighed, “got it. I’ll be good. I won’t move.” He lied on the bed again, pretending to be very still like a robot. Marti smiled at him, mumbling an apologetic “thank you” and turning in his chair to stick his nose back in the dictionary. “Don’t you have to study too? Why didn’t you bring your books?” Marti commented offhandedly. Niccolò sighed. “Fuck, Marti, you sound like my mom.” “Why? What did I say?” “You think I don’t know when I’m supposed to study or not?” Martino was taken aback by Nico’s snappy reply. And that was it, that pushed him over the edge. If there was anything that Martino had learned in the year and a half with Niccolò, it was that his patience went way over the limits he’d always thought he had. Being with him had brought out a better version of himself, a Martino who knew how to listen, how to think before he spoke, who always put Nico before himself, and this selflessness had never felt like an obligation, Martino had never felt forced to do it. The bitterness, pettiness and smallness that he had held before Nico only resurfaced after conversations with his dad or in moments of psychological and physical weakness caused by stress and insomnia, two things he hadn’t learned how to cope with yet. They made him lash out, even with his mom when she didn’t deserve it, and apparently, even with the boy he loved more than anything in the world. There were days when Martino couldn't handle his own emotions, let alone Niccolò’s unpredictable ones, and the pedestal he sometimes felt he was on crumbled. This is how Martino was feeling today: small, petty, irascible, and Niccolò had come here thinking it would make him happy, but instead he’d become the catalyst of all the anxiety and nervousness Martino had accumulated over the last few weeks. “I was just saying. Chill.” He realized how much he sounded like an asshole as soon as the words left his mouth and he regretted them immediately. A few moments of awful silence passed and then Nico stood from the bed. “Okay, I get it. I’m leaving.” Marti shot up from his chair to grab his wrist. “Ni…” “I don’t wanna be here if I’m just a pain in the ass,” he said, looking everywhere but at Marti’s face, avoiding his gaze. “You’re not a pain in the ass. I’m sorry. I’m stressed, you know I can’t handle it,” he tried to apologize. “It’s not your fault.” “Sorry if I thought you’d be happy to see me. Call me after the written exams, or the oral. Or whenever the fuck you want,” Nico said, his voice low and full of bitterness. He turned towards the door and Marti pulled him back. “Stop it, please.” “We never see each other anyway,” Niccolò mumbled, finally tugging his arm out of Marti’s grip. “And that's my fucking fault, Ni?”, he snapped. He swallowed harshly. He’d raised his voice with Niccolò. He never thought he could be so stupid. Neither of them had ever yelled at the other, in a year and a half. They’d had hard moments, moments of tension, disagreements, but they’d never had a real fight. And why had he yelled at him? Because he was in a bad mood? I'm a piece of shit, he thought. “It's no one's fault if I have to study and you’re busy with uni,” Marti said, lowering his voice and his gaze. His head was pulsing and he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. Niccolò, standing three feet between him and the door, bit his trembling lower lip and said nothing. His hands were clenched by his sides. Martino sighed and continued. “Of course I miss you, and it pisses me off that we don’t see each other often… but I just needed you to do me this favor, today.” “I see,” Niccolò nodded. “And I’m so useless and needy that I couldn’t even do this one thing?” Marti closed his eyes and sighed, again. “I never said that, why do you have to do this? Ni, please,” he stepped closer to touch his face but Nico moved away like his palm was scalding. Marti looked at him and lowered his arm, waiting for him to talk. Nico kept biting his lip and nervously bouncing his leg. “You know uni isn't going well. That my parents are badgering me about it. You know it. There’s no need for you to always remind me about it too,” Niccolò said, finally looking at him. His shoulders were shaking, and his green eyes were full of hurt. All the hurt Martino had caused. “If you hate seeing me, just say it.” I don’t understand why you hate spending time with me so much, his mom had told him, so long ago that Martino didn’t even remember when. He only remembered it was before he made up with Nico, before the terrace, because Martino had become such a different person ever since things had started working out with him that he would have never expected to hear almost the same exact words coming from his boyfriend. They hit him like a ton of bricks and Marti physically felt the fight drain out of him. Every cell In his body abandoned the fight and, this time, he thought carefully before he spoke, while Niccolò looked at him like he was waiting for the next blow. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I swear. When I’m like this… I act out, I can't stand myself. I can’t explain how sorry I am, Ni,” he whispered. “I just wanted to spend some time with you.” “I know. It’s not your fault. I’m just an asshole.” There’s always a turning point in an argument, when according to the words you choose the fight can go on or die out. Marti had given Niccolò the chance to choose an out. He hoped he would take it. “Hm. Yeah, a little bit.” Marti smiled at him, grateful, and closed the distance between them to hug him tight. He hugged him for minutes and Nico held him back, hiding his face in his shoulder. Marti kissed him and whispered apologies on his lips that Nico returned with a soft smile. “You know what we’re gonna do? We’re gonna close the books, jump in bed and--” “You don’t have to fuck up your study session because of me. Go on. But let me help,” Nico interrupted him. He took Martino’s notebooks and dictionary and put them on the floor, in the little corner under the window with the pillows and carpet, where they loved to spend hours cuddled up under a blanket next to the radiator in winter. He sat down and looked up at Marti, patting the floor next to him like you would do to invite a shy cat. “You sure?” Marti asked, sitting down by Nico’s side and hugging his knees to his chest. Niccolò nodded. Marti thought about it and then grabbed his notebooks, photocopies and dictionary and threw them by the foot of his bed, ignoring Niccolò’s amused protests. “No, fuck it. I want to be with you. Talk to me. How are you?” Nico smiled at him. He leaned his head against the wall and turned to look him in the eyes. “I miss you,” he whispered, fragile, shaken by a fight that had had no reason to exist, that should have never happened. Marti felt the raw honesty of those words hit him in the chest. “I miss you, too.” They kissed, and Marti kept muttering apologies until Nico forced him to stop, fondly exasperated. They talked while Marti’s hands played with Nico’s, twirled his curls, stroked his cheeks. They talked, but for the most part they just held each other, because sometimes silence healed better than words. The vibration of Marti’s phone startled him. It was a voice message from Gio. “Oi, Marti, we’re all meeting up at Baretto later. The girls are coming too. It’s the night before exams and you’re coming, don’t even bother with an excuse. And bring Nico cause we all miss him. Okay, bro?” Marti laughed and looked at Nico with a complicit smile. “Feel up to spending your night surrounded by a bunch of high-schoolers singing Venditti?” Niccolò laughed too, that whole-body laugh, chin lowered and eyes crinkling. That laugh that Martino had fallen in love with on that mid-October day on Nico's couch. Then Nico looked up and scooted closer to give him a kiss. “I’d be offended if I missed it.”

[pls-let-me-out]

Invisible String

23rd of December

“Will?” Niccolò mumbled, as the other climbed in the bed. His words were slurred by tiredness and sleepiness. “Did you talk with your family?”

Will nodded, hugging the blankets around himself. It was warm enough to fall asleep in a second. He didn’t want to, not yet, not when they had so little left, so he kept his eyes open, just for a little while. He could only make out Niccolò’s shape in the darkness of the room.

“Yeah. They’re doing fine.” Will’s throat was still dry, his breath uneven.

Niccolò’s voice was little and soft when he said, “Will, have you been crying?”

Will nodded. For a moment, the air around them turned stiff and awkward, then Niccolò turned on his side, and held out an arm. It was scary, how Will didn’t think twice about it, before diving right in. His body fit perfectly against Niccolò’s. It hurt Will’s heart in a way he had never experienced before.

Slow, soft, gentle. Everything Niccolò’s fingers were, when they sneaked to Will’s curls and massaged his scalp.

“Do you miss them?” His words tasted of the minty toothpaste they used.

Will nodded. “Yeah. I just–I think that–can I tell you something else?”

“Of course you can, principino.”

Will took a deep breath. “I don’t talk to my parents anymore. My father is a thoughtless bastard, as you’ve gathered. My mother just–I don’t think she really sees me. I’m just the result of her relationship with my father, and they didn’t really have the best thing going on. They fought a lot, fucked up a lot. But they were soulmates, so they had to stay together, you know? They had to make it work, because it’s your soulmate or nothing. If your soulmate can’t love you, then no one can.” Will sniffled. He snuggled closer to Niccolò, the hand around his hip tightened. “And people look at them, and keep saying that it’s true love, how they finally renounced the pieces of each other they loved, because they were ruining the rest. And maybe it is, maybe that’s what true love is about. But it still hurt me, you know?” His throat was dry when he swallowed. “I’m sorry I hated you before even knowing who you were.”

“You hated me?” There was no hurt in his voice, but Niccolò was good at hiding his emotions.

“I did. I thought you would treat me like my dad treated my mother, or how my mother treated my dad. That we would ruin the people around us. I thought we’d make something horrendous.” The realization hit him suddenly. Or maybe not suddenly at all, as it was a thought that had been building up in his head for days. “I don’t think we did, though.”

“And that’s good, right?”

Will closed his fist around Niccolò’s shirt. His warmth passed through the soft fabric, Will wanted to bury himself in it, let it warm him from inside out. “It is. What did you think about soulmates?”

For a moment, Niccolò’s fingers stilled. “I liked the idea, someone to love you no matter what.” His voice had never been so vulnerable before. “My father and Persephone are soulmates, much to her mother’s displeasure. But he had three children out of wedlock. Bianca was the eldest of us, before Persephone came in the picture. Mom got pregnant with me little before she and my dad broke it off. They did before he and Persephone found each other, but he got scared or some shit, and met Hazel’s mother.”

Will caressed Niccolò’s collarbones. He realized he was doing it only when Niccolò’s breath hitched. He blushed, but didn’t stop. Niccolò didn’t ask him to either.

“I thought Hazel was Persephone’s child,” Will revealed.

Niccolò skin was covered in goosebumps. He hummed. “She is barren. That’s why I’m heir to the throne. She sees a child in Hazel, sometimes.”

“But you lived in Venice not in Elysium when you were little, didn’t you?”

Niccolò took a deep breath. “With my mom and sister. Sometimes Bianca traveled to Elysium. I never did. Persephone could like Bianca. Everyone could, really. She was kind and gentle, but fierce. She couldn’t stand injustice. She wanted to be a lawyer, study the law.”

Will smiled in the darkness. “What did you want to be?”

“Prince. And when I couldn’t be, I wanted to be a pirate.”

Will chuckled around a yawn. “You are prince now.”

“Because there was no other choice. I wanted–when you said you’d be a doctor to make your grandparents proud, I was a hypocrite. When I was younger, I only wanted to be prince so that my father would be proud of me. So he could look at me, and think I wasn’t a total waste of space. And the people of Elysium wouldn’t only see their king’s bastard child in me.” As he talked, Niccolò’s fingertips tapped on Will’s hip. “I lived in exile, and after they took my sister from me, they took me, too. My mother’s body was long since cold when I moved to Elysium. They just made me pack my bags, and now we don’t talk about the fact that I used to have a whole other life.”

“Do you miss it?”

“I don’t remember enough to do that. I spent so much time not thinking about it, that when I try to now, I just can’t recall more than bits and pieces.” His breath shook. “I remember running down Canal Grande in Venice. The sun on my back, and my own laugh. Bianca’s smile when she turned and looked back at me. Our mother shouting. I don’t even know if that memory is real, or if I was so lonely, I created it.” He stayed silent for a long moment, and Will thought he had fallen asleep. “If that was real, then I miss it. If it wasn’t, I miss it anyway.”

Will rubbed his cheeks away against the mattress, hoping Niccolò hadn’t noticed.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” Will said. “About my parents. About who I am.”

“I know.”

Will’s whole body went stiff. “You know?”

“I know you haven’t told me something. You don’t have to tell me, though.” Niccolò passed his fingers through Will’s hair. “I’ll trust you, if you’ll let me.”

Less than an hour earlier, Will had talked to Drew about Sherman, about dating someone else, but the thought stayed far from his head as he snuggled even closer to Niccolò.

“Thank you,” was all he said. And then he felt something tug in his chest.

Longing. More. He wanted more. He was hugging Niccolò in his bed, and they were alone, and Will hadn’t wanted to find his soulmate, but his soulmate was Niccolò and he had never stood a chance against something so big. His walls had crumbled down, and he had been too blind to notice.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Will said, his words whispered against Niccolò’s skin. “We shouldn’t do this when there’s not a chance for us.”

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll wake up and we won’t do this anymore.”

“It’s already tomorrow.” Will sniffled. “I used to play a game with my brothers, when our–my parents fought loudly. One had to choose a letter, and the others named a city and an animal with that letter.”

Niccolò hummed. “P.”

Will bit the inside of his cheeks. “You need to?”

Niccolò took a moment to understand, and when he did, he broke out laughing. “Stop being an asshole.”

“Alright. I’d like to live in Philadelphia, with a, uh. What animals are there with the letter p? Uh.” Will furrowed his eyebrows, pouting in the dark. “You ruined the game.”

“You just suck.” He groaned, as though he were lifting something heavy. “Paguro.”

“What?”

“It’s an animal with a p. It means, uh, hermit crab.”

“Such a cultured man.”

And Niccolò laughed. They kept on talking for a bit, and Niccolò said he’d like to live in the outskirts of Austin, Texas, and be a farmer. He wanted to have an alpaca.

“What are you laughing at?” Niccolò asked when the silence was broken by Will’s raucous laughter.

“You just make me laugh.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. A lot.”

“But like, are you laughing with me or at me?”

And Will laughed again.

 “Persephone called me. There’s a flight booked for you on the twenty-sixth of December. Four in the morning.”

“Oh.”

“There’s still three days before that, though.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“We should do the gift exchange. Between the two of us. We’ll be here on Christmas, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then do your worst. The one who picks the worst gift wins.”

 Mornings had never felt as long as the one they spent apart. From the moment they stepped out of the house, Will’s mark began burning slightly.

“I think the bond has settled,” Nico said when they met up in the restaurant for lunch. “For me, at least.”

Will spoke in a breath. “Me too.” He smiled, but it turned bitter quickly. “It’ll hurt when we separate.”

“What if we don’t?” Nico asked. His heart thrummed in his chest, as he leaned forward a little, his elbows on the table. “There will always be a place for you in Elysium, you know?”

“My life isn’t there,” Will said. “I–I don’t want to be a doctor, but I also don’t want to–I have my life in New York.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Nico smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “It was just a stupid idea, anyway. I mean, it will hurt, but it’ll pass eventually. We won’t even remember it’s there.”

“I will,” Will said softly. “I won’t just forget about it.”

Nico didn’t have anything to say to that. They ate in silence.

 24th of December

“You can say it when you want something,” Reyna said. “It doesn’t make you selfish. And even if it does, it’s okay to be sometimes, for the things that are worth it.”

Nico clutched the phone tighter. “He doesn’t want to come to Elysium.”

“Convince him somehow. Or you could go to New York, frequent university there. It’s an option.”

“But then what? University doesn’t last forever.”

“What you have with Will, could that be forever?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes–sometimes I think it might be. As a friendship.”

“Are you saying that because friendship is all you both want, or because it’s what people expect of you?” Her soft smile was heard even through the phone, and was reflected in her tone. “It’s your life, live it as you deem, not as people tell you.”

“I know. I just–I don’t even know if he could ever like me like that.”

Reyna huffed. “Self-deprecation isn’t a good look on anyone, Nico. Does he know you like him like that?”

“Oh my God, I don’t like him!”

She groaned, but almost sounded like a laugh. “Nico.”

“Alright, he doesn’t of course. We talked about it once, and we both said we weren’t ready for a relationship. Maybe he even has someone back home.”

“Have you seen articles recently? Because I sure as hell hope he hasn’t, or that if he has you two have talked about it. Someone said you have a girlfriend, probably to cover up the possibility of you and Will choosing to have a romantic bond.”

“He wouldn’t like that. His parents were soulmates, and they fought a lot and–he just wants to be friends.”

“It seems to me, like you’re hiding behind well-crafted excuses.”

“It’s true.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t, I’m just saying that you’re using it as an excuse. You like him, and what if he likes you?”

“Even if he did, we could never be together. He lives in New York, Reyna. He doesn’t want to leave New York, and I can’t leave Elysium. With the bond settled, things just get harder. It will hurt every time we talk and every second we don’t.”

“What is your biggest fear right now, Nico?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you sure?”

Nico took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. “Losing him, I guess. I’m afraid of losing him, and missing him for the rest of my life.”

“It will be hard, but I think you two can do it. I think you can work out a way to be together. You are not the first soulmates to have completely different lives.”

“So I should talk to him.”

“Of course you should.”

“Yeah. Right. Talking. I can do that.”

As it turned out, talking wasn’t so easy.

 In the afternoon they took a walk through the city. Everything made Will smile, to the point his cheeks must have hurt. If they did, he didn’t say. Nico realized he was following Will around like a lost puppy, but he didn’t know what else to do. In the morning they had been given a Christmas tree, and now Will wanted to decorate it. Nico huffed and sighed, calling him an overgrown baby, all the while hiding a smile.

“It could become a tradition,” Will said. He had his hands in his pockets, and refused to look up from the stand of handmade Christmas balls they were in front of.

“You ordering me around?” Nico asked, cocking an eyebrow. He clasped his hands behind his back, leaning forward to take a peak to the stand. It was covered in red balls. Even through all the layers he could feel the heat radiating off Will’s body. Even more so when the other leaned back, resting against Nico’s shoulder.

Nico’s breath hitched.

“No, spending Christmas together. No wait, you probably have galas or something. Sorry.” He scoffed.

Nico couldn’t see Will’s face. He immediately missed the his warmth when he stepped forward. With his heart thumping in his chest, Nico did the same, hooking his chin on Will’s shoulder, with the pretense of taking another look.

“I will miss them for you,” Nico said, speaking so quietly it was a mystery how Will heard him.

He did, and tensed up. When he spoke, his voice was as soft as cotton balls. “Would you?”

“I don’t like them much to begin with.” Nico cleared his throat, the tension unbearable. Will’s fingers were shaking. Nico stepped back, taking his wallet from his pocket. “So, which ones would you like?”

 They didn’t speak much. They found themselves in a café a while later, with steaming cups of hot chocolate and coffee on the table. As soon as Nico was recognized, they were gifted cookies.

“Something I never understood,” Nico said, trying to break the tension. “Is why they always gift rich people with food.”

Will choked on his hot chocolate, falling forward on the table. He laughed so hard other costumers turned to look at them. Glare at them, more specifically.

“You’re such an old man,” Will finally said, shaking his head. He sighed heavily. “God, my grandmother will love you.”

“Oh, you plan on introducing us?” Nico asked, learning forward, a small smile on his face. “Let me tell you, every mother and grandmother hates me before knowing I’m rich. They think I’m a gangster.”

Will snorted, in a way he would later realize didn’t make him more attractive at all. “Oh, shut up. You’re a marshmallow.”

Nico clasped his lips. “Wow. That I’ve never been called.”

“I find that hard to believe. Don’t you have pet-names with your girlfriends?”

Nico furrowed his eyebrows. “Girl…friends? Like, girls who are my friends?” Reyna’s words came back to him in full force, as he watched Will tilt his head to the side. “You mean like a…a…?”

“A romantic partner who is a girl?” Will tried. His eyes roamed around the room, before setting back on Nico. He tapped his fingers on the table, at the same rhythm as the music passing on the radio. “Don’t you have one now?”

Nico turned red in less than a second. “I don’t. But, like, I also won’t. Never. I won’t ever have a girlfriend.”

“Oh my God, do you still do arranged marriages?”

Will seemed outraged, and for a moment Nico wondered if he was being serious. Was he always so dense? It took him a moment to remember that yes, he was. With no doubt at all.

“Will, I’m gay.”

Will’s eyebrows shot up so fast they should have fallen from his forehead. “Oh.”

He furrowed his eyebrows even more. God. God, had Nico fucked up? Why did he have to listen to Reyna of all people? What did she know? God. Fantastic. Perfect. He would never, ever–

“Is that how you know French?”

Nico looked at him for a long moment. Will, and the smile he was trying to suppress, his lips half-upturned but not completely, and his eyes, they shone so bright, and–

“Oh my God, are you being serious right now?”

And Will laughed.

 Will threw himself over Niccolò on the couch. He could start thinking about the future the next day, or the day after. They had turned on the lights on the Christmas tree, and they were now flickering with red, green and yellow.

Niccolò huffed, letting his hand fall between Will’s shoulders blade. “God, are you always so hot?”

Will put his chin on Niccolò’s chest, batting his eyelashes coyly. “Are you always such a flirt?”

“I–” He turned red, his Adam apple going up and down. “I meant warm. Not, like, hot as in sexy. I mean. I mean, you–it’s not like-”

Will laughed. “Sometimes I forget you’re shy.”

Niccolò’s whole face transformed into a frown. “That’s because I’m not. Fuck you, Will.”

Will laughed some more. Niccolò was avoiding his eyes, so he propped himself on his elbows, getting in Niccolò face with a blinding smile.

It was almost anticlimactic the way it happened.

Will was laughing, until he wasn’t. Niccolò was sputtering, until he wasn’t. They had been on their own, until someone had thrown them together, closing them in a house in Livigno. They had been strangers, until they weren’t.

Will had despised the idea of soulmates, until he hadn’t. Because with Nico, with Nico he could envision it. Waking up together, planning a life together. Having a dog, and then another, maybe even a cat. Walking down the streets together, holding each other’s hand. Traveling Europe train by train, without having a route.

For once in his life, he could imagine it all.

Nico had a light stubble from the day, and Will wanted to touch it, run his fingertips over the curves of Nico’s face. Touch his skin where it wasn’t so perfect, where Prince Niccolò met Nico. Remind himself that, after all, Niccolò was just Nico, who liked black coffee and sputtered when he was nervous.

And then they were on the ground. Will’s arm had given in under the weight of his body, and he fell to the ground. Nico’s limbs were tangled with his, so they fell together. Nico’s head touched the carpet with a loud thud.

“Oh my God!” Will shrieked. He tried to stand, but only entangled himself further in the blanket that had been covering Nico. “How’s your head? Oh my God, can you even hear me?”

Nico groaned, making no move to stand. He covered his face with his hands. “With the frequencies you’re speaking at, I’m also probably losing my hearing.”

“Fuck, I’m getting you some ice.” He bolted to the kitchen, and a new sound of despair echoed through the house. “Do we even have ice?”

 Nico took his phone out of his pocket, and sent a message to Reyna.

I almost kissed him and fucked up.

She responded after a few moments.

I bet you didn’t talk about it.

Nico huffed.

You don’t say.

With some dizziness, he stood and reached the kitchen. He sat on the counter, watching Will roam through the freezer, and only come back with a bag of iced peas.

He must have not heard Nico, for when he saw him sitting there he completely paled, almost dropping the peas.

“Careful, those are sacred around here,” Nico said.

Will nodded, with a little smile on his lips, that didn’t seem natural at all.

Nico chewed on his lower lip. How did he bring it up? Sorry I tried to kiss you, I was just vibe checking? Was that something normal kids these days said?

“You know about the soulmate ceremony?” Nico blurted out, reaching forward to take the bag of peas from Will’s hands.

“Yeah?” Will prompted, sitting on the other stool and swinging his feet.

“Well. We’ll have to choose a color palette. One day. When we actually have it.” Nico nodded. “Well, that was it. All I had to say. Yep.”

Will snorted through his nose. “Is that really all you have to say?”

Will leaned forward, taking the wrist of the hand in which Nico was uselessly holding the bag, and brought it to Nico’s temple. Nico adjusted his grip on it. Will’s hand seemed to linger forever, and if Nico were honest, he would have admitted he wished it would.

“No.” Nico’s heart stopped beating. It literally stopped beating, then did so hard it broke his chest. “It’s not all I have to say.”

“What else is there, then?”

Oh. Oh, Will’s eyes. They had resumed their puppy resemblance, or maybe puppy eyes should have just been called Will’s eyes, because Nico was pretty sure he had invented them. There was no other explanation of why he would ever look so good with them.

“Before the ritual, we have to decide what we should be. Platonic or romantic.”

“You’re gay, I’m bi.”

Nico’s breath resembled a sob. “Yeah.”

“But you’re a prince.”

“Yeah.”

Will’s eyes were still so sweet, even with the hurt so clear in them. “We don’t really have a choice then, do we?”

“I can’t offer you a relationship.” Nico shook his head; he couldn’t bear Will’s knowing gaze anymore. He looked away. “If I keep seeing you, then I’ll fall in love. But even then, we’d have to sneak around, keep being in secret.”

“Just–I just have a question. Why can’t you be gay? Are your parents homophobes?””

“Not my parents. They know. But it would cause problems if I were to create a scandal. My sisters, my mother, my father’s past… everything would be thrown right back on journals. I have to keep quiet, so I can live peacefully. And I can’t ask that of you. You deserve to be loved in the open.”

Will’s smile turned bitter. “So do you.” Slowly, oh so slowly, his hand covered Nico’s. His skin was soft and warm, much like he was. “You deserve to be happy.”

“Our happiness doesn’t overlap, does it? I’ll be a prince for the rest of my life, famous forever.”

“I know.” Will gripped his hand tighter, and Nico let the peas bag fall to the counter. He tried to smile again. It looked more like a grimace. “Star crossed lovers, aren’t we, my darlin’?” He tilted his head to the side, causing the blonde curls on his head to move, and the perfume of his shampoo to expand through the air. “If you could be selfish just for this one moment, this one night, what would you do?”

Nico didn’t hesitate. He stood, and cupped Will’s jaw. Was Will’s mark pulsing as his own was? Could he feel the sparks where they touched? Nico leaned forward, and kissed him. The first kiss was little more than a lingering peck, but it was followed by another, and another again. They separated, keeping their foreheads resting against one another’s. One of Will’s hand was on Nico’s shoulder, the other on the small of his back.

Their breaths mingled. Nico was sure that, if he looked away, he’d never have the force to meet Will’s eyes again. So he didn’t. He didn’t have to either, because Will kissed him again, and it was heated and perfect, and their marks were really pulsing this time.

 Spending Christmas Eve with a stranger hadn’t been on Will’s to-do list. As he lays in bed later the same night, he wonders whether Nico has ever been one at all.

 25th of December

Will has never spent a Christmas quite like this. He sits in front of the TV, with Nico’s chest against his back, Nico’s own back against the sofa.

“What time is the flight, again?” Will asks. His voice is low, a bit raspy.

“Five in the afternoon. They’ll come pick us up around three, I think.”

Will rests his head on Nico’s shoulder, dropping a little to the ground, and looking up at him.

“We have to open the gifts,” Nico says. He makes to move, but Will is quicker, and puts his hand on Nico’s knee, stopping him mid-movement. But Will doesn’t know how to start when his heart is beating like this, and Nico looking at him like this. “Will?”

“Remember when I said my name wasn’t William?” he asks.

“Yes. What has that to do with now?”

YouTube is open on the TV, and Taylor Swift’s Christmas Tree Farm playing quietly. In the music video are some photos of her childhood, and Will finds the force of turning to look at Nico by seeing little Taylor fall in a pile of snow.

“If I tell you the truth, will you forgive me for not telling you sooner?”

Once again, Nico doesn’t hesitate in cupping Will’s cheek with his hand. His touch is so tender it shouldn’t be legal. Eve and Adam must have felt like this, when they ate the forbidden fruit. “Everything that happened between us, happened with me knowing you were keeping something from me.”

Will nods. “But I–it might change what you think of me.”

“Unless you tell me you’re an assassin sent to kill me, then I don’t think we’re in that kind of trouble.”

“My name.” Will wraps his fingers around Nico’s wrist, keeping it there. He wets his lips, almost laughs at the way Nico blushes. “You know Apollo’s real name?”

Nico furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. He still seems so confused. “No? Don’t they say it’s one of Hollywood’s best kept secrets?”

The warmth of Nico’s skin against his and the softness of the carpet underneath them are the only things keeping Will’s head above the waters his mind has turned into.

“Lester Papadopolous. That’s his name.”

Nico still doesn’t understand. “Were you a groupie or something?”

“God, no, I–listen.” Will sits straighter, without even thinking of letting Nico go, with the fear of his touch never coming back. “People don’t know where his children ended up, right? But he had a lot.”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t really keep up with Hollywood gossip or whatever, but I don’t get where you’re going with–”

“My name,” Will interrupts him. “My name now is Fitzwilliam Andrew Solace. But it used to be Fitzwilliam Andrew Papadopolous.”

Nico is silent for a long moment. His hand slips from Will’s cheek, passing through his fingers, wrapped too loosely, and to the ground. It makes the same thud his head has the night prior. His face is unreadable.

“You are his son,” he finally says.

God. Why is his voice so carefully blank? Will doesn’t want them to be careful around each other, not after they’ve got so far.

Will nods. “His and Naomi. They–I didn’t really want to stay after what happened with Lee and Michael. I had a big fight with my father.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it makes sense.”

What? What makes sense? Will wants to scream, tear his own hair out, but he can’t. He’s not a child anymore.

Will sniffles. “Well, we can open the gifts now that that is in the open, anyway.” He claps his hands, willing the knot in his chest away. When he can’t, he starts ignoring it. “Just felt like you should know and everything.”

He uncrosses his legs to stand, but Nico’s fingers wrap around his wrist. This time it’s him trying to keep Will close.

Nico takes a deep breath, and talks so fast he could be an undercover rapper. “You know I don’t think any different of you for that, right? And I hope I didn’t do anything to make you feel pressured to tell me, although I am glad you did, and I think it might help to know in the future.”

Will stares dumbfounded at him. “Future.”

“Yeah. I still want to know a lot about you.” He turns as red as the jumper Will has found in the back of the wardrobe, and forced on him. In Will’s defense, Nico hasn’t put up that much of a fight, and red really suits him. “Even when we go back to platonic. You’re wonderful as Fitzwilliam Andrew Solace, I’m sure you were wonderful as Fitzwilliam Andrew Papopolous.”

Platonic. They were good when they were, so the thought shouldn’t hurt Will so much.

“Papadopolous.”

“Yeah, that.”

Will laughs. And then he cries.

 It’s dark outside when a car pulls up in the driveway. They have already brought their luggage downstairs. Nico’s phone pings with a new message, and after he checks it, he stands in front of the window to wave at the driver. In silence, they put on their coats. Will has left his gloves in the pockets. Nico takes one of the scarves from the coat hanger, and then puts the other on Will. They stand there for a long moment, looking at each other, no one wanting to go out, meet the outside world again.

“I’ll miss you,” Will says, so quietly he isn’t sure Nico will hear.

“So will I,” Nico responds. And then it’s silent again.

Will wraps his arms around Nico, and the other reciprocates. Will swallows, shutting his eyes and willing the tears away. Why does it feel so much like a goodbye?

 26th of December

Will’s siblings and Drew are waiting for him at the airport. He smiles, laughing at Drew and Kayla’s intertwined hands, wishing he and Nico were allowed to do the same. He looks down at his finger, the way the artificial light catches on the ring Nico has gifted him. As they pass the Brooklyn Bridge, he looks East, and in the way the sun shines on the surface of the river, he almost thinks he will forget Nico.

[revengeisalwaysanoption]

Marti/Nico, Eva/Laura, Filippo/Luai 👀

I really apologise for the delay, I was hoping these drabbles would help me get back into the writing mood but they completely killed it. *************************** Marti/Nico You love your son, you truly do. To your eyes, he's the kindest and most handsome boy on Earth. It had hurt more than a little to see him go, you won't lie.  On the other hand, you were so proud that he was brave enough to take such a huge step with Niccolò at such a young age. With a levelled head, well aware of the struggles they'd need to face together. It seems that he's not the sharpest tool in the shed, however. "Martino, dear, I must have misheard. You didn't walk out on Nico after a fight or something like that, did you?"  You ask, voice heavy with disbelief, as you get up from the table to make some coffee. It's not the place, or the time, to call him out on running away from his problems. He never had such great role models after all, did he? "Yeah... And I couldn't come here because I knew you'd have sent me right back, dragging me by my ears." He admits, unexpectedly, smiling at his boyfriend. There's their strenght: never shying away from their mistakes, never sweeping their worst moments under the rug. Learning from them, instead, if possible. Or just learning to let them go, when it's not. "Damn right I'd have." Eva&Laura It has never been about Giovanni. She didn't even like him that much... He was fun to hang out with, and they sure had a good time in bed, but if only Eva had admitted that she liked him as well... that it was more than just being drawn to something she couldn't have, that there were feelings involved... Maybe she would have backed down. "Take him." She would have said. "He seems be far more interested in my brother and his weed, anyway. But, as a friend, I believe we both could do much better than Garau."What hurt the most, what still does, it's knowning that their friendship never amounted to much for her. Well, now she's got Emma - who like to hang out with those losers and might be dating Santini at the moment... whatever - , Sara and Carlotta. Who does even need Eva Brighi? Filippo/Luai Who would have thought he'd get to see Niccolò being this happy with someone else? Marrying the love of his life, who had been ready to fight for Nico from the moment Luai met him. Who would have thought he'd be sitting here, with a wonderful man that he got to know thanks to Martino himself? Who had always room for people with nowhere else to go, who'd lend his ear but wouldn't shy away from telling the harsh truths one needed to hear.  Including that long talk about his first real boyfriend, the one he got right after getting back to Italy.  'Darling, you don't belong to anyone but yourself. It's one thing to be a bit jealous like our friend Marti, but you have seen yourself that he doesn't mind being the butt of a joke because of that. It's not something he's proud of... Unlike your own man. I'm sorry to tell you, because I've been there myself, but you are worth so much more than this, than someone who doesn't trust you and tries to control you.' He wasn't ready to listen to that, at first, but eventually Luai understood he shouldn't settle for anything but the best. "Can I have this dance?" And maybe, just maybe, that was indeed Filippo Sava.

[contrabbandiera-di-elia]

Doodles

I’m full of Elippo energy recently, so I did this thing on my phone. It may be full of mistakes because I’ll probably bother my beta only if I decide to post it on AO3, but I guess it’s still readable.

Based loosely on this thing which made me believe Elia can draw really well, at least in the cartoonish style, and some ‘different style challenges’ I’ve seen recently.

Happy Birthday, @azozzoni! I hope you’ll like it! 🎁

—

“What’s that?” Asked Filippo, picking up a piece of the paper lying on the floor among Eleonora’s papers. She was doing general cleaning, as she used to do always a few weeks after the end of the school year. She was organizing the notes and other kinds of papers, deciding which ones she wanted to keep because they may be useful in the future, and which were to be thrown away because they’re useless. This year Edoardo was helping her, as he was so called cleaning specialist, or at least he claimed to be.

At first glance, Filippo thought what he had picked up was just a piece of paper full of unimportant doodles. But then he took a closer look and realized these were quite interesting drawings. All of them presented one person but in different styles of drawing. All of them were cartoonish. Some of them he recognized, like Winx Club or Adventure Time, but most of them he didn’t. They were mostly black and white, but he knew precisely who they presented. That hairstyle, that striped shirt, and most importantly – red lips, the only thing in every drawing that was not black and white. It was obviously Eleonora.

“Oh, I completely forgot about it,” he heard over his shoulder, as the person in question studied the sketches. “It’s Elia’s. One time he was waiting for Martino at the radio’s room. He got a bit bored and asked if he can draw me. It was not quite what I expected to see, but I liked it, and he let me keep it.”

“It’s good, actually. But I’d never tell Elia could be an artist.”

“Right? I was surprised myself. But when I asked him, he said it’s just a hobby.”

“Who’s Elia?” Asked Edoardo. He didn’t even look at them from where he was putting the notes Eleonora decided to keep into a binder, but Filippo could hear this minimal jealousy in his voice. Well, it was quite understandable. He probably wasn’t too pleased to hear that some random guy spend some considerable amount of time drawing his girlfriend even if these were just cartoonish sketches.

“Martino’s friend. Oh, please, don’t tell me you don’t recognize him! You saw him multiple times!”

Edoardo frowned, but then suddenly he seemed to match the name with the right face. His girlfriend's irritation probably speeded up this process.

“Ah, this Elia! Okay, that changes everything.” Eleonora rolled her eyes at that but didn’t say anything.

Filippo was still looking at the drawings. He wasn’t sure why, but he liked them a lot. They were done with a black and red fineliners (Filippo’s guess, and he knew a thing or two about artistic tools) and in a very clear way. There was no single line made with a pencil, everything was put straight on the paper using only the fineliners. Nevertheless, there were almost no mistakes. Well, maybe there were some slight shortcomings here and there, but Filippo had to pay close attention to even notice them. And the longer he was looking, the more fascinated he was. As he counted, there were seven different drawings, and he inspected all of them acutely. He was never a fan of drawings, neither cartoons, but he found these few little figures interesting and funny. He started to be a bit jealous of his own sister having something like that made about her. Elia had surely put some work and consideration into that, even though it was just a thing he did out of boredom.

“Filippo?” Eleonora’s voice brought him back to the reality out of his thoughtfulness. “If you like it so much you can have it.”

“I don’t need a piece of paper full of your face. I have too much of it every day, darling,” he sighed, putting the drawings aside. “I just think it’s nice. I like how it's done, the style and everything, but also I think it's quite interesting someone took their time to do something like that for the person he barely knows. You know, gazing at you for long minutes and everything. Are you sure Elia doesn't have a thing for you?”

“Elia? No way. He was just bored, and we were the only two people in the room, so it’s not like he had a lot of models to choose from,” she said, not even slightly bothered. Edoardo, on the other hand, seemed to be bothered for the both of them.

“I hope so!” He announced from the other side of the room. Eleonora ignored him, focusing on her brother.

“Hey... Is it me, or you look a bit down? Is it about Dario? Maybe you should talk to him after all or...”

“No,” Filippo answered quickly, shaking his head. “Dario is a closed chapter. It doesn’t make sense anyway. He needs someone calmer and more mature, he said it himself. And I need someone who’d be able to keep up with me. Someone more spontaneous, more confident, more... you know.”

“I know,” she claimed. She did. She knew her brother long enough to know what kind of person he needed in his life. And she hoped he’d find this person someday.

-

Filippo was never into birthdays. Or rather, he was never into his birthdays. It was simply not a big deal. His parents never remembered, and he never fully got over it, so there was this dose of disappointment every year. He was trying to get rid of it by getting his friends, hitting some club and finding someone to spend the night with, but it was never his dreamed birthday. There was no special birthday parties, no singing ‘Happy Birthday’ over the birthday cake with a group of friends, no more than one present, so it was pretty sad.

The only thing that made everything better was the existence of Eleonora. She always remembered, she was singing ‘Happy Birthday’ over the birthday cake or at least suitable replacement of a one, she was coming up with a present. So every and each year Filippo was grateful for having her because he knew without her none of his birthdays would make any sense.

But that year Eleonora outdid herself. Completely.

Filippo came home from a university with a plan of getting together with his friends and going out, and the last thing he expected to see in the living room was Eleonora with Martino and their respective significant others singing ‘Happy Birthday’ in the most unsynchronized way he had ever heard.

“Look what we have for you! And no, you definitely didn't expect it,” said Martino, as he and Eleonora came up to him with something that was supposed to be Filippo’s present.

It was wrapped in a paper, but judging by the shape, it could be a painting. Or a large photo. Or maybe some framed poster. He looked at Eleonora and Martino suspiciously, but they only hurried him to unpack it, both seemingly impatient. That made Filippo unsure because Eleonora and Martino being excited over the same thing couldn't end up well.

Fortunately, he was wrong.

After he ripped off the paper, he saw a bunch of drawings drew on a framed bristol board. He quickly realized it was exactly what he saw among Eleonora’s papers some time ago – a bunch of drawings presenting one person in different cartoon styles. Except that there was no seven of them, but probably about twenty. And they were sighed, so he knew which drawing was made in which cartoon's style. Moreover, no black and white with small additions of red, but colorful, and made with much more care and precision. And they didn’t present Eleonora. They presented Filippo.

He carefully studied his own face in multiple cartoonish versions. Winx Club Filippo, Adventure Time Filippo, Simpsons Filippo, Flinstones Filippo, Sailor Moon Filippo... And in the middle of the frame, slightly bigger than every other drawing, was Filippo drew in unsigned style. Probably author’s own style. Elia’s style.

“And? What do you think?” Asked Martino, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. Filippo looked at him quickly before turning his eyes back to the drawings.

“It’s... wow, it’s great, seriously. I love it,” he said finally, his eyes tracing every drawing as if he couldn’t believe it was all him. It was a bit weird to look at his own face like that, but interesting nevertheless. “Did you get Elia to do that?”

“Well... yes. But we were helping."

“We just provided him with materials and occasionally some ideas,” commented Eleonora making Martino roll his eyes.

"Well, that's still some kind of help," he decided with a little shrug.

"I think we actually did him a favor, " Niccolò cut in, a mischievous look in his eyes. "He seemed to be quite eager to draw you. I'd say he enjoyed it definitely more than..."

"Oh, come on, Nico," Martino didn't let him finish, hitting his arm playfully. "The most important thing is that Filo enjoys it. Now let's get to the cake." That made Edoardo happy.

"Thank you! I went through a lot of effort to get a cake that has a rainbow both inside and outside. I want to see if it was worth it."

They all spent the whole afternoon eating and talking, but for some reason, Filippo couldn't get the author of his birthday present out of his head. He wanted to believe the reason for that was the gratefulness, but the truth was that Niccolò's words still lingered on the back of his head. He tried to ignore them, but they were coming back to him all the time. Finally, he decided it's pointless just to sit and think about it and decided to do something about it. He was feeling a bit stupid asking Martino for Elia's number to 'thank him for the effort and all,' but in the end, he got it, so he decided to at least try and see how the conversation will go.

After a third signal, Elia picked up with a simple “hello?” Filippo cleared his throat, suddenly feeling uneasy. He wasn’t even sure why exactly he wanted to call him in the first place. But there was no turning back. It’d be stupid to leave Elia hanging at the other end. Nobody liked dead calls.

“Hi, it's Filippo,” he said, but before he managed to add anything to that, Elia spoke up.

“Hi! How did you like the drawings?” He asked, seemingly excited to hear the answer. Filippo couldn’t help a smile forming at his lips.

“I love it, seriously. It’s amazing. Thank you so much for making it.”

“You’re welcome, I’m glad you like it. I’m not sure why Eleonora and Martino wanted so badly to have it as your birthday present, but I guess as long as you enjoy it it’s fine.”

“I’m thinking about hanging it on my wall, to be honest,” confessed Filippo, because he was, in fact, thinking about it. It'd be wasting art not to have it hanging on a wall.

“Woah, so much?”

“So much,” he nodded, even through Elia couldn’t see it. Then he decided to take the risk and try going a step further. It was his birthday, maybe he could get some birthday luck or something. “Listen... I thought maybe I could get you a coffee as a thank-you?”

“No way,” Elia said quickly, and Filippo wanted to punch himself for even asking that. Of course. But before he got to back off and say he was only joking or something, Elia continued. “That’s a present. You don’t need to get me anything in exchange. They asked me to do that, I had nothing better to do, I actually enjoyed doing it a lot, so I don’t need any sort of payment from you.”

“But still,” insisted Filippo, suddenly feeling brave again after those words, “I’d like to thank you in person. Don’t think about it as payment. Think about it as a... nice meeting with a receiver of your art.”

Elia’s laughter reverberated in his right ear and made him a little gooey inside. He closed his eyes to compose himself. That was interesting.

“Okay than. Let’s do that.”

-

When a week later Filippo was laying in his bed, Elia’s lips moving along his neck, Elia’s hand working on a zipper of his pants, Elia’s drawing hanging on his wall right above the desk, he vowed to himself he’ll never ever refuse Eleonora when she asks him to help her sorting her notes.

[wexregolden]

Read it on AO3 here <3

Chapter 10/19

THE BOY WHO LOVED Ch. 10

-The Riddle Fares House-

-----

“Hello? Someone there?” Nico shouted into his apartment as soon as he entered it. No one answered.  

“No one there – great. Come in, Marti!” he said and stepped aside to signal Marti to come in.  

“Welcome to the Casa Fares!”  

There was one thing that instantly came to Marti´s mind as soon as he entered the apartment. It was huge. Really huge.  

As he went further in, he realised the interior and decorations. Shelves everywhere, a big brown leather couch in the middle of the living room, pictures and paintings on the walls, a piano in a corner somewhere and books. So many books.  

And then he saw something, something really familiar.  

“Ah, so this is the famous bookshelf of nicoissurroundedbymuggles, huh?” Marti asked, a cheeky grin on his lips.  

“Is it famous? I am famous?” Nico answered, putting another question in the room.  

“Hm, let me think. The bookshelf is definitely famous, your followers love the posts with the shelf. But you, hm, I´m not really sure about that.”

“If the bookshelf is famous I´m definitely famous too, Marti!” Nico said, trying to sound offended, “and I see,” he continued, “you know exactly which posts people seem to like on my account. Are you stalking me or what?”

Marti really tried not to, but he felt a blush spreading on his cheeks as he thought back to all the times he scrolled through Nico´s account over and over again, looking at his pictures.  

“I don´t!” he said, trying to sound convincing, but immediately felt that he failed.  

“I see, I see,” Nico said, a cocky grin spreading on his face which made Marti´s cheeks turn even more red. To him it felt like they must be dark red by now.  

They starred in each other's eyes for some times, most likely only seconds, which nevertheless felt like an eternity.  

“Wanna sit down on the couch?” Nico asked and finally broke the silence between them, “I think it´s more comfortable than just standing here, even if it´s in front of the famous bookshelf.”

“Sounds good. Not to be rude and abandon the bookshelf but sitting sounds nice.”

“I think it will handle it,” Nico said, grinning again, before sitting down on the couch, indicating to Martino to sit down next to him.  

Who does it. Their arms brushing each other´s briefly. A short touch which still sent some shivers down Marti´s spine.  

It went silent for a bit, Marti deliberately trying not to look at Nico, his gaze wandering through the room, looking at the whole apartment again. And still catching Nico´s look, Nico starring at him.  

“You´re starring at me.”

He doesn´t know why he said it, doesn´t know why he called Niccolò out on it. It just happened.  

“I am,” Nico answered. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn´t deny it. He just simply said it like that.  

“Why?” Marti asked, his voice turned quiet.  

“It´s nice. It´s nice watching you. You´re nice.”

And with that Marti´s heart stopped beating. At least it felt like that. But it definitely skipped a beat at least. Or maybe two.  

“Oh.”

They were just starring at each other, Marti´s gaze wandering down to Nico´s lips. Nico´s beautiful lips. As he looked away again, back up at Niccolò´s eyes he saw that Nico did the same as he did before. Starring at his lips. A slight smile on his lips.  

Marti could feel that something was up, that the air changed between them.  

As Nico looked him in the eyes again, it felt like an explosion inside of his body, his heart.  

“Yes. Oh,” Nico said, approached him closer, sitting directly next to him on the couch now, their sides completely touching now.  

And suddenly the doorbell rang. Marti getting thrown out of the little, light bubble he was in. Immediately questioning if the last minutes really happened or if it was his imagination playing him.  

“I´m sorry!” Nico said as he got up and went to the door, opening it.  

It didn´t took him long to get back to the couch, next to Marti, a little package in his hand.  

“Bookmail!”  

“What did you order?” Martino asked, trying so sound cool and settled whilst there still was a chaos of emotions inside of him.  

“Wait and be amazed, Marti!” Nico said, his voice having a cheeky and amused undertone, as he started to unbox the book.  

As he was done, Marti actually wondered why he was asking which book he ordered.  

On the opposite of him Nico sat, a wide grin on his face, presenting him the book in his hand.  

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. The Ravenclaw pride edition.  

He already saw these special editions of the books all over Bookstagram since the first one was released. Annoyed by it and wondering how much money the publishers want to make with Harry Potter.

“Oh wow, really Nico?”

“Yes, damn real, Marti!”

“Don´t you already own, I don´t know, three editions of the whole series?”

“I do, Marti. But I need to show my pride, you know? My Ravenclaw pride.”

“Oh, so do you store any Ravenclaw scarfs or whatever in your room?”

“Well, actually I do, Marti. I do,” Nico answered, the grin on his face becoming wider.  

“Why am I surprised about this revelation?”

“I don´t know, you tell me.”

“Hm, maybe there´s still a bit of hope inside of me that the boy I--”

--fell in love with.

“--happened to become friends with isn´t that deep into the whole Harry Potter thing as it might have seemed at first but guess I was wrong, it´s worse than I ever thought,” Marti said and laughed.  

“And what about you? Having a rainbow flag up on your wall at home?”

And there it was again.

“No, I don´t. It´s not my... thing.”

He doesn´t want to tell Nico that he´s actually the only one knowing about him liking guys, being gay. It could make things somehow awkward.  

“I get it. It´s not that you have to own a pride flag in order to be gay or whatever sexual orientation you have.”

“True.”

“I don’t know if it´s okay to ask that now but how did you find out that you like boys?”

It´s okay. It´s definitely okay. Marti was actually kind of happy to get this off his chest for once at least.  

“Well, I kind of never felt the same for girls as my friends did. When they talked about how beautiful they where, how much they would love to hook up with them or be in a relationship and what they did to their hearts and bodies. I never felt that and couldn´t quite understand why and what´s wrong with me when I was younger. But when I later felt the same things they described only when I see a beautiful boy, I don´t know, my brain somewhen got what´s my “issue”. And at the latest when I fell in love with one, with one of my friends, yes I know it´s a cliché, I kind of knew it. That I´m gay.”

“So you´re in love with one of your friends?”  

“What? Oh God no no! Not anymore, this is long gone!”

“I see. And what about now? Any boy in prospect?”

“What?”

“Come on, Marti, you understood me well. Any boy your heart beats faster around at the moment?”

Yes. Yes yes yes yes. Definitely yes. But he couldn´t tell Nico. Not now.  

“No. I don´t think so, I mean, it´s kind of compl--,” he tried to gather himself before he continued speaking, “--no, not really.”

“I see,” Nico only said, looking Marti in the eyes, a little smile on his face.  

And it went silent between the two again, both only looking at the other person, not saying anything.  

The air felt heavy around them, Marti could feel it changing again. There was... something between them, he could feel it. The tension. Till it became a little too much for him.  

“Anyway,” he started and tried to change the topic and break the silence, “you play the piano, right?”

Not that he actually knew the answer, having watched the video on YouTube several times. No, never.  

“I do, yeah. Wanna hear something?”

Yes yes yes yes yes please!

“Yeah, why not?”

“Okay.”

And as soon as Nico said this, he went over to the piano, sitting down on the piano stool.  

“Come here, Marti,” Nico said, pointing to the free space on the stool next to him.  

Marti had to swallow before he got up from the couch, going over to Nico and sitting down next to him.  

From the feet up to the shoulders, everything of these body parts was touching Nico´s.

Marti didn´t had time to think more about that, about being this close to Nico, as Niccolò started to play.

He felt relegated to the moment he found that video of Nico, watching it for the first time. Only that this time, seeing Nico play and listening to him, didn´t happen on screen but in real life, directly next to him.

And it was beautiful.  

Nico was beautiful.

The way he furrowed his brows, being completely concentrated, his fingers wandering over the piano keys as if they never did anything else. His tongue peeking out of his lips a little, a little smile on his lips.  

Music was floating the room, the soft melody of the piece Nico was playing is enchanting Marti, makes his heart beat faster.  

As sudden as the whole spectacle started it ended again.  

Nico still kept his hands on the keys after he played the last note, his eyes closed.

It took him a moment before he opened them again, turned to face Marti and looked him in the eyes.  

“Marti?” he asked quietly.  

“Yes?” Marti responded, being quiet too

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yes of course,” he said, a soft smile on his lips.  

“There´s something going on in my head.”

“What? What do you mean?” Marti asked confused, the smile still being on his face.  

“The thing in my head is... it´s called Borderline Personality Disorder.”

Nico didn´t look Marti in the eyes anymore by now, his gaze turned down to his lap, nervously playing with his fingers.  

Martino saw him swallow before he continued.  

“I´m... Sometimes I feel like I can´t control my feeling and what´s going on in my head, it´s just happening. It feels like my life is a constant rollercoaster ride with all its sudden and fast ups and downs. There are times I feel like the happiest person on earth but on the other hand, sometimes I just feel so bad and want nothing than just stop to exist. I sometimes get paranoid too fast and often and it scares me so much sometimes. The idea of being left behind and alone scares and freaks me out so much, I don´t necessarily have to be alone, I could be in a room full of people with my brain freaking out and telling me that I´m alone or feeling like it, I panic so easily and this scares me, Marti.”  

Nico looked up at Marti again, shiny eyes, a tear rolling down his cheek. Marti leans a little forward and brushes it away with his thumb.  

“It´s okay, Ni,” Marti said, continuing brushing his thumb over Nico´s cheek, having Niccolò smile a little in the process.  

“I... I... The song I just played, I wrote it back when I got diagnosed. I just... needed something that was mine, that I could control, something that could bring me joy back then. And it happened to be the piano or music in general.”

He released a long breath and swallowed before he continued.  

“I´m sorry, Marti. I shouldn´t have told you this, shouldn´t have whined about my personal problems, I--”

“Shh, everything is okay, Nico,” Marti stopped him from apologising more.  

And then he wrapped him in a tight hug. One hand placed on his shoulder blade, the other one stroking Nico´s hair softly.  

“It´s okay. You´re not alone, Nico. I´ll be there for you.”

And with that Nico started crying for real, sobbing into Marti´s shoulder whilst pressing him as close to him as possible to him. Heart to heart.  

Marti tried to sooth and calm him down as long as Nico needed it, as long as he stopped crying.  

After a few minutes Niccolò broke the embrace, pulling back a little and he looked Marti in the eye.  

“Thank you,” he simply said, a little smile on his face, his tears having stopped by now. “Thank you so much.”

They didn´t say anything else, they just kept sitting there behind the piano, looking at each other, their hands touching slightly between their laps.

There didn´t have to be said something, they kind of communicated with their eyes only.  

Marti could see the thankfulness in Nico´s eyes and tried to make clear that he´ll be there for him no matter what.  

The silence got interrupted by the sound of jingling keys and the entrance door getting opened.  

“Nico honey, you home?”

“My mom,” Nico whispered to Marti before he stood up, going to the door.  

“I´m here!” he said, hugging his mom as he approached her.  

Marti watched the whole thing from behind as he followed Nico slowly.  

“Mom, this is Marti, a friend of mine,” Nico introduced Marti to his mother as soon as they stopped hugging.

“Martino,” he introduced himself again and shook her hand.  

“Anna. Nice to meet you, Martino!”

“Nice to meet you too, Anna.”

“So, you´re a... friend of Niccolò?”

“Yes mom, he´s a friend of mine. We met through Bookstagram,” Nico butted in, shooting his mom a warning look.  

“Oh, so you´re a book worm too, Martino? Also in love with Harry Potter as my son here is?”

“No, definitely not!” Nico and Marti both said at the same time, grinning at each other.  

“I really don´t get the hype around the books, sorry to disappoint,” Marti continued.

“I still don´t know why I like you,” Nico said cheeky.  

“Oh, you like him?” his mother suddenly asked.  

“Mom!” Nico butted in again, shooting his mom another warning look.  

Marti watched the whole interaction between them, smiling to himself.

“What? It seems like you two get along really well,” she said, trying to defend herself.  

“Yes we get along well, that´s what friends do, mom. And look how late it already is! Time runs!” Nico said, grabbing Marti´s arm and dragging him back to the door again. “I think Marti needs to get home.”

Marti didn´t fight back as Nico dragged him through the apartment, giving him his backpack and jacket.

“I´m sorry Marti, really. My mom, she can be really nosy sometimes, especially around new people. I would love to spend more time with you, really, you have to believe me, I just want to save you from her interrogation. And believe me, this would happen if you would stay here longer.”

“Don´t worry, Nico. I get it. But it was a nice day, really.”

“Yes. It was. We need to repeat it very soon.”

“We really do!”

“And Marti?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you!”

“For what exactly?”

“For telling me. And for listening to me. And for simply being you.”

Marti smiled at Nico before he got wrapped up in another hug.  

After they broke apart, Nico opened the apartment door for him, leading him out.  

“Ciao Nico.”

“Ciao Marti. See you soon.”

And what that the door closed behind Marti.

-----

And here it is, the next part of their meet up or date, whatever you want to call it :D I really hope that you like it and would love to hear what you think of it in the comments or my ask box <3 And thank you all for reading <3

[azozzoni]

I absoloutley adore your nicotino fics!!!💙 I was wondering if you would write one where Martino deals with some mental heath issues (anxiety depression as such) or maybe one where Martino has a bad day and Nico comforts him?

It had been a bad day. No, scratch that. It had been a bad week.

Exams loomed on the horizon, sending even the laziest student into a frenzy, and Martino was pretty sure his brain was about to explode. To make matters worse, his dad kept trying to get him to meet, and no matter how many excuses he gave, he kept asking. And on top of everything, he had to listen to Luca’s continual monologue about how pretty Silvia was on a daily basis and it was driving him crazy.

How could Luca even think about anything but studying? Martino had spent every evening this week buried up to his nose in his textbooks, trying to cram as much information into his brain as possible.

He hadn’t even see Nico outside of school because he couldn’t have Niccolò over and study at the same time. It just wasn’t possible. And if he didn’t pass the exam, he wouldn’t be finishing school. Martino had no intention of repeating a year.

“But she’s so beautiful,” Luca said as they stood outside school, and Martino was already thinking of all the work he had to do once he got home. He didn’t care about whatever new thing Luchino had found to love about Silvia was. Last week, it was her hair. Yesterday, it was her smile. He didn’t care.

Elia and Gio seemed to find it all amusing, but it was getting on Martino’s last nerve, every time he had to hear her name.

Martino could feel his eyes rolling back in his head as Luca went on, listing every one of Silvia’s good qualities (Martino hadn’t know a person could have that many).

“Christ, Luchino, will you stop talking about Silvia?” he said finally, interrupting the long list. Luca’s eyes went wide, along with both Elia and Gio’s eyebrows rising in surprise. “She doesn’t want to sleep with you. No one will ever want to sleep with you if you don’t stop being so pathetic!”

Huffing, Martino slung his bag over his shoulder and storming away.

He couldn’t stand listening to it anymore. If Luca wasn’t going to fucking do anything about it, he needed to stop talking about it.

By the time he got home, he was already rethinking his outburst, the confused look on Luca’s face. He was an asshole.

His mom was home when he got there, kicking off his shoes by the front door and dragging himself past where she sat on the couch.

“Your dad called,” she said, and he grimaced.

“Still talking about me, huh?” he asked. He wasn’t really in the mood to talk to about his dad, especially when she gave him that look, that look that somehow meant he should still give him the benefit of the doubt. He didn’t see how she could be on his side.

“He just wants to see you.”

“I don’t have time,” Martino snapped before he could stop himself. “I have end-of-year exams to study for. You don’t want me to fail, do you?”

She didn’t reply, only sighing, and he felt a wave of guilt at his response.

“I’m going to go study,” he said instead, turning from her and heading for his room, making sure to shut the door tightly.

His phone buzzed with a message, from Gio, asking if everything was okay. Rubbing his forehead, Martino collapsed on his bed and set the phone face-down on the table. He didn’t want to think about what he’d said to Luca. Luca hadn’t deserved that, but Martino couldn’t think about him right now. Instead, his book bag stared at him from across the room, taunting him with all the information it contained, information that felt like it was leaking out of his brain with every minute that passed.

Huffing, Martino flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He just wanted this to be over. School, exams, everything.

He didn’t know how much time passed, but the sun had begun to set when there was a knock on the door.

“I don’t want to talk, Mama,” he said, pushing himself up as the door opened anyway. He sighed, preparing to be annoyed, but he paused as Niccolò appeared. “Oh, what are you doing here?”

Nico closed the door behind him, coming over to sit next to Martino on the bed. “The boys said you stormed off after school.”

Martino let his head fall on Nico’s shoulder as he sighed. “I was a complete dick to Luca.”

He didn’t have to look to know Nico was smiling, feeling Nico’s fingers stroking his hair.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you. Everyone’s stressed about exams.”

“But everyone doesn’t yell at their friends about it.” Gio would never yell at Luca. Even Elia, who rolled his eyes at Luca more times a day than anyone, he wouldn’t do that.

“More than a couple people broke down crying last year,” Niccolò said, leaning his head against Martino’s.

“Crying is different than yelling.” Martino didn’t know why he always did that, always held things in until they exploded. Couldn’t have a normal conversation about things that bothered him.

Even though things were better now, even though he’d learned how to deal with the hard times, he wasn’t perfect. He still got annoyed at his mom about stupid things. He still sometimes wished he had two normal parents. He always hated himself when he thought it.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Nico said, tilting Martino’s chin up so he could look him in the eye. “You have a lot to deal with.”

Martino shook his head. “It’s not an excuse. I need to be better about handling things.” He was surprised when Nico pressed a kiss to his lips. “What was that for?”

“You don’t get better overnight,” he said simply, lips tilting into a smile. “You learn from your mistakes and you grow over time.”

Martino let his forehead rest against Niccolò’s, closing his eyes for a second. He felt better just having Nico there, someone to ground him and remind him that exams weren’t the end of the world, that he’d get through this somehow. Nico did so he could too.

“Do you want me to help you study?” Niccolò asked when Martino opened his eyes finally.

“Actually study?” he asked, watching Nico grin.

“Actually study,” Nico assured him, kissing him once before sliding off the bed to grab Martino’s bag. “Have to make sure you get into Uni.”

As Nico dumped the books on the bed, Martino scooted back, breathing a sigh of relief, glad he had Niccolò to help him, for studying and for other things.

[tidesreach]

if you could rewrite skam italia season 2 to more accurately represent bpd and its symptoms, what would you change?

The short answer is I wouldn’t really change anything. But the reasons for that require explanation, so buckle in, this is going to be a long one.

I think accuracy is a subjective term when applied to portrayals of mental illness. Because people have very varied experiences. So what would be an accurate portrayal of BPD for me might not necessarily be accurate for someone else. Since the revelation of Nico’s diagnosis and my various posts on the subject, I have had messages from numerous other borderlines. A lot of them – like myself – related to Nico in many aspects. But there are also some who didn’t – or who did in some aspects but not others. The fact of the matter is that it’s not possible to portray a disorder like BPD in a way that is wholly accurate and relatable to everyone in all aspects because people have such varied experiences. If you’re interested in another portrayal of BPD, I recommend watching Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. For me, some aspects are incredibly relatable – sometimes uncomfortably so – but others are not. But that doesn’t mean those aspects are inaccurate. Another portrayal of BPD is the film Girl, Interrupted (one of my absolute favourite films) – however, some people with BPD (myself included) relate less to Winona Ryder’s character, who is the character diagnosed with BPD, and much more to Angelina Jolie’s character. Like I said, it’s subjective.

It’s also important to note that though there are nine diagnostic criteria for Borderline Personality Disorder only five are required for diagnosis. So one person could have almost completely different experiences to another. And even if you do meet all of the same criteria as someone else with BPD your symptoms may manifest in different ways. For this reason people’s experiences with BPD can be incredibly varied. I meet all nine of the diagnostic criteria (it’s like winning a really shit lottery) – so I have experience dealing with all of them, but how I experience them may be very different to the way someone else experiences them. As an example: people deal with fear of abandonment in different ways. Some people self-isolate as a way to avoid abandonment. Some people may appear “clingy” e.g. they will send constant texts and make frequent phonecalls. Some people experience what we call “splitting”. Some people experience all three. Basically, we all have our own individual experiences and there’s no one way to be borderline. Symptoms can manifest in so many different ways.

I’m putting this under a read more to save everyone’s dashboards because it’s quite lengthy. But if it interests you, I’ve listed the DSM-5 diagnostic criteria for BPD and how Nico’s symptoms accurately fit into that.

The nine diagnostic criteria for BPD are quite broad and are as follows:

Frantic efforts to avoid real and imagined abandonment.

A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships, often characterised by extremes between idealisation and devaluation (also known as “splitting”).

Identity disturbance: Persistently unstable self-image or sense of self.

Impulsive behaviour that is reckless and potentially self-damaging (e.g. overspending, excessive alcohol or drug use, reckless driving, unsafe sex, binge eating, spontaneous decision-making, the list goes on).

Recurrent suicidal behaviour or ideation and/or self-harm.

Emotional instability (intense mood swings) e.g. intense episodic dysphoria, euphoria, irritability, or anxiety that can last from hours to days

Chronic feelings of emptiness and loneliness

Intense anger or difficulty controlling anger

Stress-related paranoia or severe dissociative symptoms (feeling disconnected from the world, or your own body, feelings, thoughts and behaviours)

It’s difficult to know how many of the criteria Nico meets as we have very limited background information to go on. After all, this is Martino’s season. Everything we see of Nico is in relation to Martino. Which makes it even more difficult to portray something like BPD. We have no inside knowledge of Nico’s thought processes, his past behaviours or what led to his diagnosis (hey, Ludo, can we uhhhhh get a Nico season please?). But he has to meet at least five of the above criteria to have been diagnosed. From what we have seen, the five he definitely meets are:

Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment (the back-and-forth with Marti, ignoring his texts then telling him he wants to be with him, freezing Marti out after his ill-advised comment on mental illness, going back to Maddi, the flipbook and the antidote, suggesting that he leave and his refusal to let Marti look at him when he was in a depressive state).

Impulsive/reckless behaviour (breaking into the pool at Halloween. Taking his mum’s car and driving to Bracciano. Milan in general.)

Emotional instability (I don’t think I need to give you specific instances here because his emotional instability becomes quite evident in general).

Chronic feelings of emptiness and loneliness (his speech about solitude in Nel Mio Letto explains this feeling perfectly).

Stress-related paranoia or severe dissociative symptoms (Milan, again).

He also shows clear signs of:

A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships (his parents, Maddalena, probably his friends/the boy he liked from his previous school. But we have limited information on his interpersonal relationships outside of Marti – though that’s unstable for most of the season thus is a sign in itself – so whether there is a distinct pattern of unstable relationships is unclear at this point, but it’s very likely given what information we do have. Whether he experiences splitting or not is unclear, too).

Identity disturbance (when he asks Marti if he should get a haircut and a tux to meet his dad, when he proposes à la Love Actually, when he’s staring at his reflection in the hotel room window, when he’s rapping Earl Sweatshirt and boxing in the bathroom – these could all be signs of an unstable identity, but I wouldn’t categorically define him as having persistent identity disturbance since we don’t know if it is in fact a persistent symptom).

So, Nico meets at least five but very likely seven out of the nine diagnostic criteria. The only two he hasn’t shown any signs of are:

Recurrent suicidal behaviour or ideation and/or self-harm.

Intense anger or difficulty controlling anger

So, to reiterate, accuracy is subjective. Nico’s symptoms were incredibly relatable for me personally. They’re just not the only symptoms and not the only way symptoms can manifest. Like I said, I experience all nine of the diagnostic criteria. So it wasn’t even a 100% accurate portrayal for me because I experience other symptoms too (splitting, anger/rage, suicidal behaviour and self-harm, among others). But I did relate a hell of a lot to the symptoms Nico did experience and the way he experienced them. I’m also incredibly grateful they didn’t focus on the suicidal aspect because there’s a lot of stigma surrounding BPD in regards to suicidal behaviour being manipulative, and if not handled well it might have been counterproductive. It was so important to me to have such a hopeful portrayal for that reason, because we are often portrayed in a terrible light.

I think the main thing that confused people regarding accuracy was Nico’s episode in Milan. Because it looked similar to Even’s manic episode in the OG. Which I understand. But it wasn’t the same thing. Many people with BPD, myself included, experience psychotic symptoms. Psychotic symptoms such as severe paranoia, hallucinations, depersonalisation, derealisation or distortion of beliefs and perceptions aren’t uncommon (there are a bunch of studies on this if you’re really interested, because health professionals are still trying to determine the cause and frequency of psychotic symptoms in BPD patients). They’re generally triggered by stress. I’ve experienced brief episodes of psychosis on and off for years. This is what Nico experienced in Milan (triggered by the stress of his parents and Maddalena trying to control him) – Nico truly believed that he and Marti were the last two people on Earth. To me, his episode looked like severe dissociation leading into brief psychosis – or psychotic symptoms, if you will (episodes of psychosis in BPD tend to be brief). So while I understand that it was confusing, it was, in fact, a fairly accurate portrayal of psychotic symptoms in BPD. I had a far more severe reaction to Nico’s episode than I did to Even’s because I saw so much of myself in him. Would it have been helpful to portray Nico’s psychotic symptoms in a way that wasn’t so similar to Even’s manic episode? Absolutely. But the fact remains that it was accurate and it made sense in the context of the season and the metaphor that Nico got caught up in of him and Marti being the last men on earth. It wasn’t random, it was cleverly interwoven.

Sorry for how long this got, but I felt like to answer this question required some explanation. To summarise, I actually don’t think I would change anything. There’s a reason I relate so much to Niccolò. But I don’t contest that others with BPD might not have found it as accurate a representation as I and others do. That’s absolutely their right. Because symptoms are incredibly varied and we all have our own individual experiences.

[only-in-dreamland]

A fic set post ‘duo ore’ and pre‘patatine e marmeletta’

Inspired by marti saying ‘oh no, we fell asleep’ in 'patatine e marmeletta', just made me think they consciously tried to stay awake and then one thing led to another and here we are. This is just my idea of what could have happened…hope you enjoy!

 They both laid with their backs to the mattress; side by side, chests heaving, flushed cheeks and breathing out sighs of relief. Martino couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Everything was a blur; playing FIFA, nico’s phone call, the boys leaving, nico…here. The smell of wood burning, the crackle of the fire. Kisses, kisses and more kisses. Hands everywhere. Clothes discarded…okay maybe not all of them. And marti couldn’t help but smile through it all. This morning he’d never felt further away from nico, more distant, but 12 hours later and here he was…right next to him. Marti could reach out and feel him and it wouldn’t be a dream he’d wake up from too soon, or his imagination running wild with all the possible scenarios that would never happen. They both turned their heads and glanced at each other at the same time; eyes sparkling with awe and smiles wide.

‘I can’t believe you came all the way to Bracciano.’ Marti laughed through the words, still in disbelief and shaking his head slightly like it was just too good to be true.

‘I had to see you.’ Nico said it so matter-of-factly; as if it was the only option he had.

‘And then what?’

Nico smiled flirtatiously,

‘Well you know.’

Marti’s mood suddenly dropped, and he couldn’t contain the words that flew out of his mouth.

‘So you thought that’s what would happen? What you came here for?’ Marti glanced away, sat up quickly and turned with his back to Niccolò; his legs dangling over the side of the bed. Tears sprang to his eyes. He didn’t want to be some fling. A hook up. What he felt for nico was so much more, so much…deeper. And he was terrified that it was all meaningless to nico; that not being around him didn’t cause nico the same ache in his chest that he’s felt for the past two weeks.

Nico looked hurt. Almost like he’d been slapped but he bounced back quickly. He moved forward off the bed, walking round to where marti sat and tentatively at first, kneeled in front of him. but then as he hovered in front of marti, who refused to meet his eyes, he had a surge of confidence and reached forward and cupped marti’s face with both hands.

‘Hey look at me.’ Nico whispered softly but marti wouldn’t budge. He knew that looking at nico would only make the urge to cry even stronger.  

‘Please look at me.’ He whispered; so gently but with force. He needed marti to hear it in his voice, to see in his face how much all this means to him. It was everything. It is everything.

Marti swallowed hard and hesitantly lifted his face to meet nico’s unwavering gaze.

‘Do you really think that’s what I came here for?’ He asked incredulously; because nothing could be further from the truth.

Marti glanced down and up at nico again,

‘I don’t know.’ He muttered softly as he shook his head, his hair falling over his eyes slightly; almost as a barrier to nico’s unfaltering eyes.

Nico tilted his head with a soft sigh and a small smile. He couldn't help but find marti's subduedness endearing, because nico’s had the exact same doubts. Of whether marti actually wants him, especially after this. And even having seen marti look dejected and isolated at school, the self-destructive part of his brain told him it was nothing to do with him. That marti was better off without him. And yet, nico just couldn’t let himself fully let go. The notes. The antidote. All a way to let marti know ‘I'm still here…I just need some time.’

'That is not what I came here for.' He said in earnest; enunciating every word.

‘I don’t blame you for thinking that. I know I haven’t exactly been…reliable. And I’m sorry for that. But marti, you have to know…I came for you. All of you. And for me. I knew that if I didn’t prove myself to you, that I would live to regret it.’

Marti softened at the conviction and honesty in nico’s voice. In his heart of hearts, marti knew the truth. They both felt the same, they just weren’t ready to voice it yet. So they showed it in ways they could; through gentle touches and soft kisses. Through pleading glances and shared smiles. They said so much, without ever saying anything at all.

He found himself nodding and smiling ever so slightly, and leaned forward to press his forehead to nico’s. Niccolò exhaled deeply; relieved that martino was accepting his apology and his truth. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to marti’s lips, solidifying his apology.

‘Okay.’ Marti whispered, voice thick with emotion, even in a hushed tone.

‘Okay?’ Nico echoed back, a ghost of a smile creeping through as he’s hit with nostalgia.

‘Okay.’ Marti returned the smile. And for a moment, there they were; beaming at one another, wallowing in the time they have…no rush, no interruption, just blissfully consumed.

Until they heard the boys return a few minutes later. Marti jumped up at the sound of the them coming though the cabin door,

'Oh shit they're already back. And we're in gio's room dammit.' Marti was slightly panicked; their clothes were littered over the floor and the boys could burst in at any moment.

Niccolò couldn't suppress the laugh at seeing martino get so worried; who had already started collecting the clothes off the floor.

He reached for marti and tried to calm him down,

'Hey don't stress. I doubt they're gonna come in, especially knowing I'm here.' Nico gave Marti a knowing smile, his eyebrows raised and his hands on his shoulders shaking him out of his reverie.

Marti realised how crazed he must have looked all of a sudden, and laughed despite himself.

'Sorry, you're right. But we should probably give gio his room back, I mean it is his cabin after all.'

Nico grabbed marti's hands and pulled him closer until they were chest to chest, forehead to forehead,

'Orrr...', he breathed persuasively and there was a mischievous glimmer sparkling in his eye;

'We could stay here, just for a little while longer.'

Martino was about to resist but niccolò saw it coming and jumped right back in with a tempting,

'Please?' Instantly his playfulness was replaced by seriousness, like he just really wanted to spend more time with marti. Because more was never enough.

Who was Marti kidding? He wanted nothing more than to just be in nico's arms and to hold him back in return.

Nico had already started dragging him towards the bed, determined to win this one. Marti raised his hands in surrender and proclaimed,

'Fine! But we can't fall asleep, you got it?' His voice full of humour, a laugh threatening to break through as he pointed at nico like he was reprimanding him, and the image was just all too bizarre.

'Of course, of course! It's not like I don't have something else to preoccupy my time with.' He raised his eyebrows suggestively and marti just shook his head, smiling at how smooth nico was attempting to be. I mean, it's not like it wasn't working.

Ten minutes later, they were just talking. About everything and nothing. About marti's childhood. When he became friends with gio. The story of luchino and the suitcase; nico was in fits of giggles hearing that one. Marti had his head resting on nico's chest so you can bet he felt nico's whole body shake. Nico's arm around marti holding him tight but gentle. When nico started learning the piano. How he composes his own music. What he likes to draw.

And it was like this, they drifted off to sleep. They didn't know it but both of them had struggled to sleep lately. Their minds consumed with thoughts of one another. The loss, the emptiness, the ache inside their chests. Now reunited, and they can finally find respite.

Because one thing's for certain tonight...they'll never let go.

[greenlightfic]

Tell me something that I can explain

 Monday 12:11 – March 23, 2020 – this could be rough

 Edoardo’s leaving his last class of the morning, backpack carelessly hanging from one of his shoulders. He isn’t thinking about anything in particular, feeling mostly tired and when one of his classmates approaches him with questions he should be asking their teacher, Edoardo gives him his attention, still walking, finding himself involved into a full-on conversation about this guy disagreement with the subject itself.

Edo’s good with people, he has always been, and he knows this guy only needs to be heard, so he does it. He stays in silence and tries to nod in the right moments but his attention is drawn to a pair of electric green eyes at the end of the corridor. She’s just standing there in front of her classroom but somehow, she’s calling everyone’s attention. Edoardo notices how people glance at her while passing by and he also notices the guy she’s talking to. Tall, not as tall as him but taller than Eleonora, dark skin and enormously big muscles. So that’s douche with steroids, Edo thinks and he feels cold in his back when Eleonora smiles brightly at whatever he is saying. Silvia’s words appear in the back of his mind, and he shakes his head to push them away. When he looks again, Eleonora’s looking at him. She waves at him -which makes douche with steroids turns around and observe him- Edoardo barely has the time to wave back before she focuses on her partner again and they both walk into the classroom.

Edoardo only stands there, watching the spot where she was just seconds ago and his stomach hurt, the kind of pain he hasn’t experimented in a very long time and it worries him.

 Wednesday 13:30 – March 25, 2020 – worn to the bones

 The villa boys were having lunch in the Caffè close to Rocco’s university. The five of them sitting on a circular table, Federico next to Edoardo, what makes easier for him to look at his best friend’s phone when the screen illuminates with a message from Eleonora, whose Edo has been deliberately ignoring since Monday. He quickly blocks the screen but Fede’s already staring at him with a question on his eyes and he might’ve asked it if they wouldn’t have been interrupted by a pretty blonde girl, Rocco’s classmate, Alice? Edoardo thinks. Federico attention switches to her and Edoardo grabs his phone from the table to read the message. Eleonora’s asking him to study together. He gives her a lame excuse and doesn’t reply to the sad face she sends.

When he looks up again, he sees Alice slapping her own forehead.

“Are you sure?” She’s squatting, looking up at Rocco. The brunette nods. “Of course. He said we would use it. There’s no way we can resolve the exercises without a calculator”. He explains and Edoardo watches Alice’s face fill with anxiety.

“You think I can convince him to let me use my phone?” She asks.

“I don’t think so. You know how much he hates… everything” Rocco rolls his eyes.

“I’m screwed” The girl stands up, a hand behind Rocco’s chair and Edoardo looks at her, he really looks at her. She’s beautiful; he remembers dancing with her at a party in his first semester, and he can’t understand why he didn’t do more than that. She’s gorgeous.

“I have one”. Edoardo speaks looking at her but everyone in the table turns to him.

“Excuse me?”

“I have a calculator I’m not gonna use. At least no today” He shrugs. “You can take it” he smiles, politely.

“Really?” She asks with hope.

“Of course!” He grabs his backpack and finds it in the first pocket. “Thank you so much” she stars talking when she spots the object. “You saved me!” Edoardo hands her the calculator. “I’ll give it to him once I finish” she adds pointing at Rocco.

“Or you could give it to me” Edoardo rapidly replies. “We’ll have to meet up for that, but I’m totally okay with it” he smirks and raises a brow. Nathan and Rocco chuckle, Chicco lets out an ‘oh’ and moves his hands. Fede, in the other hand, is looking at him with narrow eyes, like trying to read Edoardo’s thoughts.

Hearing Edoardo’s proposal pauses Alice for a second but she recovers fast and with elegance she copies his smirk. “We’ll see” she replies holding his glance. Edoardo nods with a smile.

“I’m gonna go find a good seat” she says to Rocco. “I’ll save one to you, too” she smiles and looks at Edo again. “Bye, guys”. Everyone farewells her when she stars walking away, except Edoardo whom remains silence but doesn’t break eye contact, not until Nathan’s squeezing his shoulder and Chicco starts clapping.

“Very smooth” Chicco makes emphasis in the first word, wiggling his brows.

Rocco stands up and takes his backpack from the floor. “She’ll probably try to give it to me after class”. He’s waiting for Edoardo to tell him what to do. “Take it” he smiles, “I’ll have a reason to talk to her on Saturday” Chicco claps again, Nathan joins him this time. Rocco bump fist with his four friends and Edo watches him follow Alice steps but he still can feel a pair of eyes frantically trying to make eye contact with him. A pair of eyes trying to talk to him without words. He ignores it. If he can ignore Ele, he can ignore Federico, too.

 Saturday 22:42 – March 28, 2020 – we can’t cut it from out these veins

 Edoardo holds his beer tighter when a short girl stumbles against his side and walks away without even glancing at him. He can’t blame her; the club is full but still Edoardo manages to find his friends through the crow. Federico’s leaning against the bar, talking with Giovanni and Niccolò. Edoardo allows himself to stare only for three seconds, he doesn’t want Federico to notices him. Surprisingly, ignoring his roommate was easier than he thought, they only met alone two times since Wednesday and luckily Fede didn’t ask anything. Edo knows he’s waiting for him to talk, but he doesn’t want to. He just flirted with a pretty girl; there’s nothing wrong with that. Besides, isn’t that what Federico wanted him to do? It’s stupid from him to sit and wait for Edoardo to talk when there’s literally nothing out of place.

With Eleonora’s different. Unlike his best friend, the girl has been trying to see him since Tuesday, but he has managed to decline every invitation to study. He has seen her for the first time today when they all met at Marti’s and Nico’s apartment before going to the club, but Edo got himself involved into a long conversation with a very enthusiastic Luca, providing him of an excuse to ignore her the whole time. He’s enough of a dick to ignore both his friends but he isn’t enough of a dick to cancel the night out they all have been looking forward for a month. It’s not usual for all of them to be available to hang out at the same time, so Edoardo didn’t have the heart to cancel. He’s succeeding with his plan by far. He’s alone with a cold beer on his right hand and walking by the club, listening to good music, and more importantly, away from Federico and Eleonora.

The tall guy smiles brightly when he sees a known face walking in his direction. She hasn’t seen him yet, but Edoardo puts his cold hand on her waist, turning her body to his. Alice’s eyes soften when they meet his.

“Hey” Edoardo greets her with a smirk.

“Hi!” she smiles. “Did you get your calculator back?” half screams moving her head, making sure Edoardo hears her.

“I did” he leans in. “Although part of me was disappointed when Rocco gave it back. I was expecting a prettier face.” He moves away, looking at her face and sees her wrinkles her nose in that particular way that reminds Edo of certain brunettes with eyes greener than Alice.

He spots her with his peripheral vision; she is standing next to a wall not so far away from him and she’s not alone. The same guy he saw her with on Monday is leaning in front of her, covering her with his huge back but when Edoardo’s forcing himself to look back at Alice, the guys shifts and he can catch a glance of Eleonora’s face and it’s like time stops for him when he recognizes the look on her face, the same look she had three weeks ago in his house when the power went off. Eleonora is scared.

“Excuse me” Edoardo speaks not looking at Alice and stars walking fast, elbowing people left and right. When he’s close, he sees the guy’s hand holding Eleonora wrist with pressure and he’s ready to push him away from her when Ele meets his eyes and her face instantly relaxes. Her eyes have the same effect on Edo, who inhales deeply and talks over the guy’s shoulder. “There you are!” He tries to smile. “I thought you got lost or something.” Edoardo’s looking to Eleonora’s face, trying to speak to her with his eyes.

The guy turns around to face him but Edo ignores him. “Come on, help me find Eva” he moves closer and extends his hand to Ele but before she can take it the guy stands in the middle of them, looking up at Edoardo. “We’re talking” he says with a cold smile. “Ele?” He ignores him again, and he can feel the dude getting mad.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Edoardo” he stands straight. “I’m Eleonora’s friend and-” the guy cuts him off “Okay, Edoardo, your friend and I are in the middle of something. Why don’t you go?” He gets closer.

“Because I’m smart enough to notice she doesn’t want to talk to you. So, get the hell out of here” Edo spits his last words with his hands turning fits into his jean’s pockets. After a second of silently staring, the curly boy feels a familiar warm next to him. “Edo?” Elia speaks, low and he doesn’t need to glance at his friend, he knows the look on his face. Elia is ready to fight the moment Edoardo gives him a sign.

The guy lifts his chin a look at both of them, studying them, thinking if maybe he can take them both but Edoardo see the thought leaving his eyes. The guy looks at him from head to toes one last time and walk past them, shoving Elia’s shoulder on the way.

When they both have lost him in the crow and turn around, Edo’s the first one to notice the girl’s absence.

“Fuck!” he youths.

“Ele”. Elia notices too.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck” Edoardo’s turning all sides, trying to find her.

“You go out. I’ll check the bathroom” Elia tells him, serenely and gently pushes his shoulders to force him to move.

Edoardo turns on his heels and heads to the door, taking his phone out on the way to call her. No responses. He’s trying not to panic but it’s taking him way too long to get out of the club and he hasn’t seen any sign of her yet or the guy.

When Edoardo finally makes his way out of the building, he lets out a loud sigh as he spots a red blouse at the end of the road.

Eleonora’s sitting on the street, hugging herself with her head buried in her knees. He approaches her and puts his hand on her back, “Ele” he whispers and she jumps, moving her body away from his touch.

“Ele” he kneels next to her, concern covering his face, “are you okay? Did he do something to you?” he’s looking at her eyes with affection. He wants her to know he won’t hurt her.

“I’m fine” her voice is shaking and tears are burning her eyes.

“Eleonora” he extends his hand to her again and places it on her elbow when she doesn’t move. “Ele, say something. Please”. He’s definitely panicking now; he has never seen her so fragile.

“Edo, I’m fine” she looks at him. “I just needed air.” She exhales. “Nothing happened. I swear” she looks at the floor again and holds herself tighter.

“Ele!” Edo recognizes the voice screaming behind him. Silvia runs to them and kneels in front of Eleonora, throwing her arms around her. Edoardo turns around and finds Elia standing not far away, watching the scene. Eleonora’s now hugging Silvia back. The girls are moving back and forth and Silvia’s murmuring words on Ele’s ear. “I love you” she says, breaking the hug and holding Ele’s face on her hands. “I love you” the blonde girl repeats.

“I love you, too” Eleonora closes her eyes and Edoardo notices her bottom lip trembling.

“Come, on. Let’s go home.” Silvia stands taking Eleonora along with her.

“No.” the brunette steps back. “I don’t want you to leave because of me. You were having fun. It isn’t fair.” She adds holding her friend’s hands.

“Who cares?” Silvia speaks giving her a friend a ‘really?’ look.

“I can go by myself. I’m not a child.” Eleonora tries to smile.

“No.” Elia speaks from behind Edoardo, and Eleonora notices him. They look at each other for a long second and Elia nods. Edoardo has no idea what does that nod means but it seems like Ele does so he doesn’t question it.

“You guys go back inside,” she waves her hand “I’m gonna take a taxi” Eleonora offers them a smile.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.” Edoardo steps closer.

“Edo…”

“Ele, come on! I didn’t even finish my beer. Let me drive you home”. He pleads using his hands.

“I’m not a kid!” the change in her tone surprises Edoardo. “I can go on my own. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m not babysitting you” he raises his voice pointing at his chest with a finger. “I care about you, and I don’t want you to go alone. Why is it so hard for you to accept help?” he lets his shoulders fall, sign of surrender.

“Edoardo.” Silvia whispers his name severely.

“Ele, you want me to go with you? Or Eva, maybe?” Elia tries after a moment of silence. Eleonora shakes her head and turns to face Edo. “Let’s go.” The boy nods and watches Elia pushing her into a side hug with his arm. “Don’t say anything to the others, okay? I don’t want to ruin their night.” Ele requires once he lets her go. Elia nods and the girl waits for Silvia to do the same before walking to Edoardo, who guides her to his car in silence.

 Saturday 23:20 – March 28, 2020 – let’s hurt tonight

 Edoardo stands awkwardly on Eleonora’s living room, watching her throw her purse and keys into the table next to them.

“You want tea?” she asks quietly. Edoardo nods and she makes her way into the kitchen.

It isn’t his first time at Ele’s home. It isn’t either his first time alone at Ele’s home but he can’t help feeling out of place. Maybe it is because they didn’t talk after he apologized for raising his voice, or maybe it is the fact that Eleonora’s hands were still shaking when she closed the door.

Edoardo forces his feet to move, just to get something to do. He walks around Ele’s small living room and observes the photos hanging on the white wall behind the sofa. There are a lot of photos, Eva with her parents, grandparents, Giovanni. Eva through the years, le matte in diverse scenarios, looking not older than sixteen in most of them. There are also photos of Ele but not as much as her roommate. There are some photos with Filippo when she was probably twelve or so. There’s one photo bigger than all of them, on the middle of the wall. Edoardo knows that photo, he remembers the day it was taken. It was the first Friday after winter break, all fifteen of them had dinner at Marti’s and Nico’s apartment and Silvia kept complaining that they didn’t had a photo as a group so, after several attempts they found the right place to settle the phone and get everyone into the frame. In the photo Eleonora has her head on his shoulder, and his own head’s tilted, too, brushing her forehead with some curls. She’s smiling beautifully.

“That’s a good one.” Eleonora says behind him, forcing Edoardo’s mind to return to the present. When he turns to face her, she’s extending her arm to him, offering a mug full of hot tea. Edoardo takes it, and they walk to the couch. Eleonora settles on it with her legs under her ass and Edoardo sits down on the table in front of her.

“What happened?” The boy asks after tasting his tea.

“Nothing.” Eleonora speaks looking down. “He wanted me to leave with him. I said ‘no’. He wanted to kiss me; I didn’t let him and he pressed me against the wall and, well, you showed up.” She looks up for a moment, before focusing her attention on the mug between her hands.”

“What else?” Edoardo ducks his head in an intent to catch her eyes.

“Nothing.”

“Ele, your hands are still shaking.” Eleonora grabs her mug firmer.

“He didn’t hurt me or touched me” she nods to emphasize her story. Edoardo’s looking at her with his elbows pressing each knee. He wants to holds her until her sad expression disappears but he knows he can’t. The last thing she needs right now is someone invading her space.

“It just…” she takes a deep breath. “I think it brought back bad memories” she shrugs and takes a sip of tea, waiting for her friend to react.

There are a thousand questions forming on Edoardo’s mind. Did someone hurt her? How? When? Who? Anger fills every corner of his body at the thought of someone, anyone putting a hand on her.

“I had a boyfriend.” She speaks absently. “He… wasn’t very nice to me” she clears her throat to stabilize her tone. “I had those memories buried deep down and what happened tonight brought them back, I guess. I just feel overwhelmed” she smiles with sadness and Edoardo can think straight. Next thing he knows, he’s on his knees in front of Eleonora, hugging her firmly, trying to take those memories away with his embrace. She’s relaxing into his arms and they stay like that for a while. Edoardo doesn’t really know how long but he doesn’t care either.

Moving one of his hands to cover her head he speaks slow. “You can cry if you want.” Eleonora snorts against his chest and holds him tighter.

[wings-of-a-storm]

Guys, there has been so much good discourse about Martino’s season on here! So much so that it is hard to think of anything left uncovered. Still, in these long days since the season ended, I’ve found myself swimming in thoughts when watching certain clips.

I used to be blocked from the tag this post might not even make it in (cheers Tumblr) and was never able to really offer up my own thoughts at the time, but I’ve been writing some stuff down finally. So if any of you are interested in going back down the rabbit hole with me and immersing yourself in the artistic genius that is Skam Italia, then here goes with my first (of hopefully several) deep dives.

SKAMITA DIVE NO.1

To this day, there is one clip that I both love and hate watching -- to the point of never knowing which sensation is going to win out. Naturally I must take a deeper look at it to figure out why it has such power over me.

That clip is Ammucchiate (3.5).

So many things about this clip fascinate me. Seriously. So many things. In this essay I will look at:

1A) The Couch Scene. I seriously love/hate this clip. The whole tone felt like a departure from the og (and that isn’t a bad thing, it just raises very different emotions in me). In fact, it feels like the whole point of the couch scene was changed in Skam Italia. It makes for very interesting viewing.

1B) Niccolò’s emotions. Ie. how very differently Niccolò reacts to Emma compared to what I was used to with Even. I love a character study.

2) The supreme UST going on between Niccolò and Martino.

3) How the absence of Earl Sweatshirt references both changes and doesn’t change Martino’s interaction with Emma (and infatuation with Niccolò).

TONE REVERSAL OF THE COUCH SCENE

What absolutely fascinates me is how the whole tone (and perhaps point) of the couch scene felt reversed in Italia. In og, it felt like Isak had a fairly therapeutic experience with Even on the couch, but Martino’s experience with Niccolò felt rather unpleasant. It was such an interesting divergence!

Let me explain. In og, Even’s conversation with Emma about labels was so important for Isak to hear. This new perspective on the ‘gay’ label coming from a wise older boy whom Isak admires would have helped with some of Isak’s internalised homophobia (with the added benefit of showing Isak that even if Even was actually straight and Isak had just imagined his chemistry with him, Isak could still trust Even not to judge him). All up, it felt like a pretty positive moment for Isak on that couch. The way he listened so intently to Even’s wisdom was gorgeous.

In Italia though, Niccolò ended up using the debate with Emma as a vehicle to test Martino’s sexuality -- in a way that put so much pressure on Martino and came across as almost shaming him for being in the closet. It felt like Niccolò was maybe trying to tell Martino 'I know you're not as straight as you like to appear' while testing his reaction to make sure his hunch was right. But it felt so unkind to do that to Martino in front of Emma. Was Niccolò just so pressed that Martino was giving Emma attention, he tried to force the truth from Martino? To get Martino to admit that Emma was just a smokescreen, so Nico could feel better about his chances? It was so uncomfortable to watch, whatever the reasoning…

I mean, boy can you see the differences in Isak and Martino’s faces: Isak engaged in a healthy new perspective VS Martino disconnecting in discomfort:

I really didn’t like the way Niccolò was pushing Marti and even smirking at him, but I’d be lying if I said the changes to the tone of the scene didn’t fascinate me. If I had to sum it up, I’d suggest that in Italia, it feels like the couch scene was meant to be less about helping Martino deal with his internalised homophobia and more about being one long set of UST challenges between Niccolò and Marti. Or rather, Niccolò trying to challenge Marti (pick me not Emma!) and Marti not giving into him. That, and Niccolò being unable to contain his jealousy.

Let’s start with the jealousy.

NICCOLO & HIS EMOTIONS

Subjective fact: Even is cool and collected when dealing with Emma.

Subjective fact: Niccolò is a jealous force to be reckoned with when dealing with Emma.

For a clip that ticked off all the important scenes from og, it couldn’t be more apparent how different Niccolò is to Even in this clip. In og, Even catches Emma (who is very obviously immature) falling into the danger of making generalisations and draws her into a polite debate. He remains very calm and collected through it, so it comes across as him intrinsically wanting to call her out on a troubling mindset (one that would affect Isak) and show her a different perspective. (With the bonus of proving to Isak how much cooler he is than her.)

In Italia, Niccolò heard Emma make a generalisation and just kind of pounced on her. The tone he uses and the look he gives her is of such irritability. The shift in his emotions felt so immediate; he was ready to cut her down and even got into battle position. It kind of felt like he was pouncing on her for the sake of pouncing on her -- ie. the debate he instigated became an outlet for some of the bitterness he had been harbouring towards her as his rival. In other words, their debate felt more about him than about sending Martino any secret message.

I mean that “Hm” before getting into battle position! It was such a ‘hold my gloves’ moment. I was preparing to duck for cover because he seemed so pressed! At the time I was just like: Woah, my son, I know Emma said something dumb but this is not the way to call her out on it -- you’re escalating the situation instead of having a healthy discussion! But now I think it was a really clever way to demonstrate how Niccolò handles emotions/how his BPD might amplify his emotions/how mercurial he can be.

OR - because there are too many goddamn ways to interpret someone's reactions - was Nico trying to defend Marti? He knows (or hopes) Marti is in the closet and generalisations/labels like that from Emma would give Marti a harder time. Was Nico just being: YOU KNOW NOTHING, JON SNOW to her? Less likely since Nico added his own jab at the end, but possible.

Side note: I have to confess that even though Nico being a bit of an ass makes me uncomfortable, his ‘why the hell are you still here’ look when Emma keeps talking remains one of my favourite Nico expressions of the season. It makes me laugh every time. (That, plus going all Moses/red sea on them was A+.)

But why was Nico pushing Marti so much on the couch? Oh let me analyse you, complex clip of wonder.

MARTINO AND NICCOLO: THE ‘UST’ PUSH AND PULL

It kind of feels like Niccolò’s continual challenging of Martino’s self-image and sexuality on the couch was a way for Ludo to keep upping the ante of their UST and make us anticipate whether they were going to actually do something about it. The clip is called Ammucchiate/accumulate, after all. It felt at times like Niccolò was pushing Martino, daring him to drop Emma for him: ‘I know you aren’t straight, why are you bothering with her when you can have me?’ But Martino kept pulling back and standing his ground. And that became their alternating push and pull dance all night.

Let’s rewind for the full UST experience: Niccolò arrives at the party and basically hands Maddelena over to the girl squad so he is free to go find Martino. You can see the sly dog knew exactly where Martino was (did you see how quickly his head turned not just in the exact direction but to the exact friggen degree!). Here is where interpretations can get murkier though -- from that distance and with  Martino’s reflective glasses, it isn’t clear whether they actually make eye-contact (from Nico’s perspective, at least) before Martino grabs Emma and kisses her. Still, Martino suddenly launching himself at Emma wasn’t exactly subtle. It was a tad over the top, so surely Nico would have been at least a little suspicious?

It would mean that Niccolò has to decipher Martino’s actions though. Is it Martino just in the closet, trying to play the straight guy in front of everyone (this is coming off the cold reception Niccolò got in front of Martino’s friends earlier in the week, after all); is it Martino using Emma to prove to Niccolò that he isn’t some pathetic loser pining after him (but actually is); or is it Martino genuinely into Emma? Because although there had been chemistry between Nico and Martino, there might have been with Emma as well when Nico wasn’t around. Like ‘You were an option, Nico, but so was Emma and I’ve chosen her because you have a girlfriend’.

Nico would be hoping it is everything but the latter but the only way to find out would be to: A) get them to stop kissing (obviously the number one priority!) and then B) test Martino the first chance he gets.

So he goes straight to them and comes up with a line and excuse (karaoke -- but with all three!) to get them to stop kissing (because hell no!). And just in case the line isn’t enough, he enacts his fail-safe plan: physically separating them with his own body. I love that he was so thirsty for Martino (and perhaps territorial?), he also found excuses to actually touch his thigh, put his arm around him, do the eyebrow wiggle, and pat his shoulder on two separate occasions. What a pro. He does something similar in Halloween and you bet I’ll be doing another post on that because I looooove it.

The problem is Marti is standing firm on the anti-karaoke thing. And somehow this annoys Nico? You can see there was little mirth when Nico more or less accuses Marti of internalised homophobia/being in the closet (even though Nico tried to disguise it towards the end).

Did Marti’s refusal touch a nerve for Nico because he genuinely wanted to do karaoke with Marti and bond with him (and shut Emma out somehow in the process)? Did Nico panic a bit because it felt like Marti was pulling away from him instead of being up for anything like he was used to Marti being? Or was Nico just starting to feel irritable in general because of Emma’s presence and was losing his patience with the grey area between him and Marti? So he started to push Marti to get answers and didn’t stop at the in-the-closet accusations, going on to basically call Marti gay to his face. Nico seemed so smug after seeing Marti’s reaction to the ‘boring gay’ comment, like: ‘Gotcha! You are into me!’

I’m trying to figure out why Nico was pushing Martino so darn hard though. Did he think he would never stand a chance against Emma while Marti is in the closet so he needs to push Marti out of it? Or was he just being gelosa in culo because he was worried that Marti might actually have feelings for Emma and it’s easier to pick the pretty girl than the impossibile guy? So his jealousy got the better of him?

Of course, there is one other possibility. Nico might not have been annoyed-annoyed; he could have been concerned that Marti might have been rejecting a fun activity out of fear. In that case, his calling Marti out on that fear might have been him trying to help Marti be himself.

Either way though, Nico seemed to be challenging Marti on that couch to give up the pretense (and pick him).

But Niccolò’s meddling efforts are for nothing because the two of them leave him to dance together anyway. Nico lost the unspoken challenge he threw out to Marti (admit you’re not straight and drop Emma for me). I love the brutal shot of them walking away from Nico in favour of spending time without him. You really feel that sting as he sits alone on the couch. (He kind of deserved it though...)

The lost challenge means that Nico has to watch Martino and Emma make out AGAIN on the dance floor though. And he is so over it. His stare was so fierce! I can’t even tell where his jealousy at watching Martino kiss Emma ends and his ‘one day I am going to kiss you like this’ determination begins.

But Marti doesn’t stop kissing Emma despite their mutual eye-f---ing. He and Marti are having a thing but it’s a stalemate, so once again Nico is kind of losing. It’s incredible that we actually get to see the effect Martino kissing Emma has on him (which was missing in the og); how he and Maddelena actually stopped kissing because Nico was so vexed/upset/distracted. (I wonder if his insecurities were flaring up here: that maybe in the end he just isn’t good enough for Marti.)

Their mutual staring was obviously the peak of their UST/challenging-each-other game and I have come to accept that the dark lighting was a good choice to emphasise that tension/seduction. I still can’t get over Nico’s laser-beam stare or how Marti was the one to start the whole thing.

But then their lust battle is interrupted by Silvia’s Parental Crisis. And surprise surprise, Nico finds a way to get close to Martino again -- he just happens to be close by when Marti needs help carrying the garbage bags out. What a coinkydink.

So hallelujah and small mercies, it is finally just the two of them outside. Nico can try to breach that distance between them and, you know, try and bring back their flirty dynamic to deal with all the intense UST. But how to start that process? The best Nico can think of is an “Elio~” tease. That will break the ice and give Nico a chance to explain about Maddelena -- that their relationship isn’t working anymore (for him at least). But he can’t leave her... (Side note: I love how personally affronted Marti seems at that, like it should have been a done deal even though he and Nico aren’t actually together.) There is no way Nico can explain to Marti why he can’t leave Maddelena though; there is no way Marti can ever know about Nico’s BPD. The best he can do is disguise both of those truth bombs as a joke.

But the silly story/projection of his own fears ends and Nico is still stuck at square one. The distance has lessened but it’s still not where Nico needs it to be. He needs to find the courage to make a move before he loses this window of opportunity.

What could test the waters while making it obvious how Nico feels about Marti? A gentle stroke of his pinky. It’s innocent enough to explain away if things go wrong, but if it goes right, it can lead to more.

And it does go right. And Marti’s lips move into that brief pout as if he is subconsciously asking for a kiss. So finally, finally, after all that pushing and pulling all night, Nico can lean in to kiss him like he has been wanting to for so long. And Marti is smiling back at him; he wants it too. It is the best feeling.

Until reality intrudes again and they don’t get a catharsis to the UST. But it’s okay -- because at least Nico knows now that Marti is definitely into him. That will be enough for him until they can be alone again…

End challenge battle. Until Halloween.

But guuuuys, he chose a gentle pinky touch! After all the mean jabs on the couch and intense laser-beam staring on the dance floor, he goes for the sweetest, most softest thing. It stands out so much; like under all the bravado and lusty stuff, this is the precious, fragile emotion that was hiding.

I used to feel conflicted about how abrasive things felt at the party, but maybe it actually works if it helps emphasise the softness of the beautiful pinky-touching moment.

Before I leave this Ammucchiate analysis behind though, there is just one more change in the couch scene that I had thoughts on: how the lack of NAS/Earl Sweatshirt references does and doesn’t change Martino’s interaction with Emma (and infatuation with Niccolò).

ONE LAST CHANGE: MIA EARL SWEATSHIRT

In the og, my favourite part of the couch scene was actually Isak and Emma talking about NAS (yes, I liked it over the Even stuff even). I loved that it made Even present; that Even was there between them on that couch long before he physically joined them. That Even was always on Isak’s mind; that that was how much he had affected Isak. Because of course Isak had never heard of NAS before that day in Even’s bedroom, yet suddenly it was his favourite artist and how could Emma not know of his music? Isak wants to like what Even likes; it means they are connected. So even though Isak is trying to bond with Emma, it is still all about Even in the end.

I relate SO MUCH to that. I have done exactly that in my high school days. It felt like such an insightful demonstration of what being infatuated with someone can be like.

So when Marti and Emma were discussing their musical interests on the couch in Italia, I was disappointed (at first) that Marti didn’t nominate Earl Sweatshirt. I was waiting for his full blown infatuation to show, for Nico to be present without being present. But no, Marti stuck to his long-term favs (kudos to that, actually) and Emma knew who those artists were. Because she is also different to her og character and has far more in common with Marti than og Emma did. That ups the stakes for poor Nico and presents her and Marti as a potentially compatible couple.

I realised I liked that Ludo makes these small changes to make his characters different people. Sure it was a shame that I couldn’t have my ‘Nico is present without being present and that is typical infatuation’ moment, but Marti basically being on the lookout for Nico fulfilled a similar vibe and--

OH THAT’S RIGHT. Ludo was keeping it for another episode where it would actually HURT. (We can’t have nice things. What’s the fun in that? They always have to hurt!)

I’m of course referring to Marti listening to Earl Sweatshirt on his way to school in Assenze (6.1). AFTER Nico had broken up with him. AFTER he had caught Nico kissing his supposedly ex-girlfriend as if Marti meant nothing. AFTER feeling betrayed by Nico. AFTER a week of depression and self-imposed isolation.

I mean, wow. After all that, Earl Sweatshirt was Martino’s musical comfort; the artist that helped him find the nerve to get out of his house and back to school. I know Isak also used Even’s NAS to go back to school (such an iconic scene), but unlike og, we didn’t even know if Marti liked Earl Sweatshirt or bothered listening to him after Nico’s lounge-room introduction.

That is of course until we hear Marti listening to him after Nico broke his heart. And if that doesn’t pack a punch...

Like, had Marti been listening to Earl Sweatshirt all week? Had Marti actually been lying in bed, listening to Earl Sweatshirt songs because he so desperately wanted to feel connected to Nico? Because he wasn’t ready to let him go? Because he was missing him so much despite everything? And that is when he started to really connect with Earl Sweatshirt’s music to the point of using it to steel himself to go back to school?

My heart just cannot take this.

So yeh, I’m fine now that Earl Sweatshirt wasn’t referenced in Ammucchiate, but rather saved up for lethal detonation later on (I’m such a masochist, ugh).

And yes, another reason why we didn’t really need an Earl Sweatshirt reference in Ammucchiate is because technically we can claim a role reversal: that Marti was the one ever-present on Nico’s mind  because he came to the party in a Marti/Marty McFly-esque outfit. I was well fed and I didn’t even know it.

So that takes me to the end of my thoughts on Ammucchiate. I didn’t mean for it to get so long, but if you’ve read this and have your own thoughts please do let me know. :)