Yeah...maybe Bruno will come back, too. Maybe he'll only have to experience being gone for a moment, so he won't have to deal with being back home for long at all, even if it seems long to us.
[Granted, Luca's a little nervous about giving Alberto too much hope in this area in case it doesn't happen. He thinks of the tallies on the wall of the tower while Alberto waited for his father's return. Of course, this is different. They both know Bruno didn't choose to leave and would absolutely come back if he's ever able. He just doesn't want Alberto to put all his hope in Bruno's return. He'll deal with that if it happens, though. He doesn't want to dash Alberto's hope now. Especially not when Alberto could be right.]
[ Luca's right to assume Alberto might put all his eggs in this basket, now that the realization has hit him. As it settles, his hopes start attaching to this theory... He nods slowly, pursing his lips in thought. He lets Luca go, turning away to sit forward again, and hugs his arms to himself, still nodding decisively with a vague stare into nothing. ]
Yeah... Yeah. Dolores said maybe it's not like that for everyone, but, I mean — so many Madrigals have been here. Bruno's sisters, all his nieces, his nephews... Dolores even showed up twice. So it seems pretty likely he'll show up again, right? I mean, it might be a while, but— Th-This place loves burping up this family! Hah...
[ He's trying to affect some weak levity, but despite his wan smile, his eyes look purely worried still. It's a panicked hope, grasping at straws, just as Luca anticipated. He may not start counting the days until Bruno's return... but Luca knows Alberto's got that inclination in him, when the going gets tough. Delusional optimism works wonders sometimes. But probably not for this. ]
We don't know if he'll show up again or not, but...he definitely might show up again.
[He's trying to tread a thin line here. It's not impossible that Bruno will show up again, so he doesn't want to dash Alberto's hope when there really is hope to be had, but he also does want to subtly remind Alberto that while it's possible, Bruno's return certainly isn't guaranteed.]
[ Alberto takes the hint, and nods vaguely again, not giving much more of a response than that, still hugging himself and staring off into space. His eyes drift down toward his dark phone screen in his lap again. Even if Bruno comes back, months without talking to him will be hard. And facing the facts, Bruno may never come back, it's true. The best case scenario is that Alberto has to suffer Bruno's absence for a few months, and that upon his return, Alberto will have to suffer the uncertainty of fearing his disappearance again. That's the ideal he's hoping for right now. It's not a very comforting one. Yet he feels a mounting desperation wishing for it — and hand in hand with that feeling, a mounting doubt.
The visceral disappointment he feels sinks into his gut as he stares at his phone, realizing he's in all likelihood never going to get another text or call from Bruno... and if he's lucky, at least not for a long time. Whatever he said to him last, that was it. He picks up the phone to check what it was, only three days ago, and crumples inside when he reads it; something mundane and un-note-worthy, along the lines of "Hey, kiddo, how's it going?" "fine, doing homework. call you later." ...Then Alberto got busy and never called. Remembering that he forgot to call Bruno later, though, is what breaks his false composure inside. Tears of anger start welling in his eyes. That was the last conversation they had? He scowls deeply at the phone, holding it with both hands, then reads the two texts aloud to Luca, bitterness in his voice. ]
Then I forgot to call him back. That was Monday night. I did laundry instead…
[Oh no. That's just...well, it's terrible timing. At least if the conversation had been a great one Alberto could have left this on a high note instead of having had his last interaction with Bruno being that he forgot to call.]
I mean, you couldn't have known...
[That it was his last chance to talk to Bruno, either forever or just in a while.]
I'm sure he knew you didn't mean to forget.
[After all, homework can be a lot. It's easy to forget things after. He also knows that might not matter, though, because that still means Alberto missed his last chance to talk to Bruno.]
This place is so unfair...
[Why couldn't they at least get some kind of warning that people were going away?]
[ As disappointing as their last interaction was, realizing now it was their last, it's in fact a testament to how close they were — to how reliable a figure Bruno had become in Alberto's life. Alberto assumed he'd have the chance to call him back. He expected Bruno to be there still, like he's always been. But it's far beyond him to find that silver lining in this yet. Instead, the fact that he put off calling Bruno is all too easy to weaponize against himself. And, unfortunately, bleeds right into his old ingrained narrative that he's a bad son — a narrative he'd thought he'd retired along with "Silenzio, Bruno." He doesn't even have that small comfort anymore; he never did rename that voice... Without a name, he doesn't have a good way to shut it up like he so often needed to back home; thankfully, for so long here, with a much better Bruno to bolster him, he hasn't needed to. But without a doubt now, that Bruno's bound to stick around, whatever his name is now.
Alberto's scowl deepens, jaw clenched hard, not saying anything. This place is so unfair. It's infuriating. He grips the phone tighter as his gaze lingers on the screen. He keeps it open to his chat log with Bruno, and starts idly scrolling backwards; at first he actually does read some of their old texts, but after a short moment, he starts skimming as his eyes glaze over with tears, eventually scrolling too fast to even read anything. He catches a glimpse of some random texts in Itañol from early October, accidentally landing on a simple "Buonanoches" from Bruno, followed by a "Buenos giornos" from Alberto the next morning — another regular, mundane exchange he'd taken for granted. That's what does it. His hands barely begin shaking as the first tear falls. But there's no biting them back anymore. When his tears well up so much it blinds him from continuing to read, the tidal wave swelling in him finally breaks... Overwhelmed, he sniffles and swallows a sob — then launches his phone across the room. It bounces off the bathroom door with a loud bang, the corner of the phone hitting it just so, with enough mindless force, that the screen shatters and glitches, before going half-black. Alberto doesn't watch it after he's thrown it, though. He just hugs himself, fingertips digging into his arms, and turns away to hide his face from Luca as the tears keep flowing. ]
[Luca's not really surprised when Alberto throws the phone. He saw what was left of all Alberto's stuff in the Tower after he'd betrayed him, something that still makes him feel guilty when he thinks about it. He knows how destructive Alberto can be when he's upset. If anything, only breaking his phone is progress. Luca just pats Alberto on the back, not knowing what else to say or do.]
[ Alberto wants to be comforted by Luca's pats on the back, and on some level, he is; but his mind is reeling, and he's none too practiced at receiving comfort. He has so little experience in leaning on others in times of need. He's had to deal with nearly every major problem he's ever had all on his own, with the exception of having Luca's help navigating the human world — and Bruno's. Even for as much progress he has made, when the going gets rough, solitude is still his comfort zone; it's yet another thing he shared in common with Bruno — which he's certain Bruno wouldn't encourage in him now. He's supposed to lean on people now, now that he has people to lean on. That's how it's supposed to work, right? But it's easier said than done. Even with Luca.
He lets Luca pat his back for a moment, but still doesn't turn to him. He just hugs himself tighter. He still feels an anger brewing in him, his tears hot on his face, brows knitted tightly. He knows that isn't the right feeling, but that's the feeling he feels. He remembers the way he lashed out at Luca the night before the race, when Luca had tried to comfort him about their argument; Luca maybe kind of deserved that temper then, but he definitely didn't deserve Alberto's anger now. Wise words from another Madrigal come to mind, Dolores once again, remembering sound advice she gave him the first time they met, a surprisingly deep introduction for Alberto: "There are no bad emotions. What matters is how you express them."
He feels another wave of grief crash over him, inhaling with a sharp sniffle as he chokes back a sob, and before he can ruin anything by overreacting, he rushes to his feet abruptly, crossing the room in brisk, sweeping steps toward the bathroom, hugging himself all the while. "There are ways to be angry that don't harm the people who care about you." How are the Madrigals all so good at not being angry? Bruno never got angry at Alberto even once — except maybe the day Alberto didn't respond to his texts or calls because he was distracted when Luca showed up; but even then, it was more fear than anger. Fear Alberto had disappeared without warning... a fear Alberto hadn't taken seriously enough back then.
He slams the bathroom door behind him and locks himself inside, still hugging himself shakily as he slips down to the floor — still swallowing his sobs even in private. ]
[Luca stays quiet, letting Alberto go to the bathroom alone. He wants to comfort him, but if Alberto needs to be alone right now, he's not going to stop him. He'll come back out when he's ready.]
[ Alberto's in there for quite a while, but still far shorter than he probably would have needed in the past. At first, after just a couple minutes in there, he lets loose — which is worrisome to listen to, but surely not surprising. There's a loud clattering when he tears down the shower curtain, the rod bashing a few times against the tub. It's followed by a series of hollow bangs as all the bottles of toiletries are knocked about in the tub, the spice rack-turned-shower-caddy clanging as it falls. Anything on the sink counter, back of the toilet, all swiped off in a fury. One star projector turns out to be more durable than the other, which breaks when it hits the tile. He even goes so far as to tear down the towels. The cacophony culminates in a sharp shattering of a candle being thrown against the floor, the glass thankfully breaking off in large chunks rather than dispersing in tiny shards.
He finally breaks down crying after this, and there's silence, apart from the faint sound of his sobbing. But that is much shorter-lived than his violent tantrum, once it occurs to him to use the water to drown the sound. He turns both faucets on, and they stay on for some time. In fact, once he manages a little bit of composure, Alberto has the good instinct to take a bath/shower... the best thing he could possibly do for himself right now, truthfully. He lets the shower rain over him, clothes and all, hugging himself in the tub as it fills up slowly, all the fallen bottles floating about around him. There's an occasional splashing heard over the sound of the running water, but altogether it does well to disguise his grief.
A little over a half hour passes before he re-emerges, if Luca doesn't check on him first. He doesn't bother to clean up the destruction he left behind him, and quickly shuts the door to hide it when he comes out. He's dripping wet, and still looks quite upset, but there's definitely a different air about him now that he's let some of the emotion out of his system. He saunters over to Luca again, hugging himself still, and sits close beside him, close enough that their legs touch. He stays wrapped in his own arms, but sits more comfortably than before, the tip of his tail swishing slightly; he even leans into Luca somewhat, though he still averts his gaze. There's a short, silent beat before he speaks up, his voice tempered but hoarse. ]
...I'll fix it later.
[ The bathroom. He'll fix the bathroom. But "fixing it" is still a loaded phrase for Alberto, a larger concept in itself — because of Massimo... and then because of Bruno. It's an idea that became significant with the both of them, "un-breaking" things. Boats, walls, fights with family... He may be referring to the bathroom, the most recent mess he's made, but subconsciously, there's no coincidence these are the first words that come to his mind to announce that he's okay. ]
[Luca cringes as he hears all the crashes and bangs from the bathroom. He kind of expected this, but still he silently hopes neither of them have to use the restroom any time soon, because he's not sure how useable it'll be when Alberto's done. He makes no move to try and get him to stop or open the door, though, because Alberto probably needs to get the anger and frustration out, and he'd rather use the neighbor's bathroom for a while than to make things harder for Alberto.
When he hears the faucets running he's initially relieved, thinking that at least the faucet still works, but then he begins to worry. Why is Alberto running the faucet? He didn't hurt himself, did he? But then the faucet keeps running, longer than he'd expect if he was rinsing out a wound. Maybe he's trying to drown out his sobbing? It breaks his heart to know that Alberto thinks he needs to do that, and that he's crying that much but it doesn't really surprise him. He hears Alberto take a shower, and once he comes out Luca looks at him, glad to see it doesn't look like he's hurt himself in his 'breaking things' phase of grief.
Luca then glances into the bathroom and is unsurprised to see the state of it. He is glad to see that the sink and toilet are still in place. He looks to Alberto and asks quietly,]
[ Alberto shakes his head No, still avoiding eye contact, still hugging himself even as he blankly scowls down into his lap. After a beat, though, he changes his mind — and shakes his head Yes. Surprising himself somewhat, though keeping his eyes downcast, he turns to Luca again and opens his arms for another hug. This one is different than the first hug when Alberto'd broke the news, which had been so frenetic and jarred; no, now that the shock has settled, this hug is more sincere, more tender, and most importantly, deliberately asking for comfort.
He hadn't had someone to hug him the last two (two!) times "this" has happened to him, but now he does, the best possible person, feeling so lucky to be beside Luca of all people right now; but as miraculous as it was the way they were reunited here, and as scary as it is to think Luca could disappear at random just like Bruno did, the fact stands that Luca is here, and he can hug him right now. So while Alberto's first instinct was still to go be alone, it's a good sign that he's got his wits about him enough to change his mind and open up, in his own way. He keeps both arms wrapped around Luca's chest, not so loose and limp nor so tight and desperate as before — just comfortably, firmly, with his face pressed into his shoulder again. Nevermind that Alberto's soaking wet and getting Luca wet in the process; not like that'd really bother either of them anyway, though. ]
[The second the 'no' changes to a 'yes', Luca's focus is completely on Alberto, waiting on some indication on what he should do. That indication comes immediately, and when Alberto hugs him, Luca immediately hugs him back, giving him a firm hug like he's trying to confirm to Alberto that yes, he's still here. He doesn't care that Alberto's getting him wet right now, of course. That's just not something that matters to him.]
[ Alberto holds the hug a long moment, overwhelmed at the same time with both grief and gratitude. When that wave of emotion breaks again, he lets it roll over him, managing to bite back tears by screwing up his face, which he buries into Luca's shoulder as if to hide it. It helps. The hug helps. Having Luca here helps. And after a moment, once that comfort sets in and the shock begins to settle at last, he heaves a cathartic sigh and breaks the hug.
He offers Luca a wan, appreciative, lopsided smile as he pulls back, patting his hand on Luca's shoulder affectionately in a silent "thank you." His face and arms are dry by this point, sitting half-wet and half-transformed, but he'll just let himself air-dry, however subtly strange it feels... Feels maybe appropriately uncomfortable. He lies back into the cushions more relaxed, his body language more open now with his arms behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling. He doesn't say anything for a moment, but with a softer sigh to start, he manages a pretty simple statement: ]
...I'm gonna miss him.
[ And really, that's getting to the heart of the matter, so plainly it's poignant. He'll miss Bruno a lot. That's all. ]
[Maybe not as much as Alberto will. Definitely not as much as Alberto will, but Luca liked Bruno and it was nice having someone around to look out for them and be a father figure for Alberto that would really be there for him. Someone who wouldn't just leave him alone on an island and tell him he's old enough to take care of himself. Sure, Bruno may be gone now as well, but at least he didn't choose to leave. He'd never choose to leave Alberto, and at least they both know that.]
[ Alberto nods slowly, still staring up at the ceiling. Luca liked Bruno. He knew that, of course, but it's nice to hear Luca say it; plus, it's the first time Alberto won't be the only one missing someone. Massimo liked Luca, but he never missed Luca the way Alberto did after he left for Genova, so Alberto had missed Luca alone; and then, after finding himself spirited away to Kaisou, Alberto had missed Massimo and Luca — and everything else in his life — once again all by himself. This time, he won't be alone literally, but he won't be alone in missing Bruno, either; so it's oddly comforting to know Luca will miss Bruno, too. Not as much as Alberto will, granted, he knows, but all the same. They're in this together, in a way. Alberto liked knowing that Luca and Bruno liked each other. He'd thought about that many times even before Luca had actually arrived! In Stardew, Alberto would talk Bruno's ear off about Luca, regaling him with stories of their summer together back home; plenty of nights were spent in their shared bedroom with Alberto gleefully lounging in his bed describing Luca at length, and always with lavish praise, to a very patient (and probably very tired) Bruno — who listened. And even talked! Alberto'd hoped from the get-go that Bruno and Luca would like each other, felt pretty confident about it. Alberto had liked imagining their first meeting back then, and when it finally happened, he felt they all hit it off better than he could've imagined. That night the three first had dinner together has since stayed one of his fondest memories, even something of a core memory — and now it's tinted blue.
Thinking vaguely back on it in private, lying quietly like this, he feels a new twinge of pain suddenly, remembering how he'd ghosted Bruno for almost two days, too, when Luca'd first arrived. Bruno had thought Alberto had disappeared. Bruno had kept texting him hopefully, even though he didn't respond, until his panic hit a crescendo after a day and a half. Coincidentally, it was the exact same amount of time between the last time Alberto had talked to Bruno, and the moment Alberto's panic hit a crescendo tonight, when he found himself similarly hopeful, texting and calling Bruno's phone over and over the same way, before frantically moving onto Luisa's — a step further that Bruno hadn't needed to take. Their roles were flipped — except it'd turned out Alberto was in fact still there, and happier than ever, and Bruno's panic was for naught. Back then, Alberto had never known anyone who disappeared, so, unlike Bruno, he'd never worried about anyone magically disappearing; he felt bad that he scared Bruno when Luca had arrived, but in light of the reality of the situation, it became almost a little— funny? — looking back on it after that. But not anymore. Not now. The real resonance of Bruno's fear was lost on him back then. Alberto's concern had been more stuck on Bruno assuming Alberto had been pranking him or something, if he were still there; that was the point he made sure to reassure Bruno about, because Alberto would never pull a prank pretending to disappear on someone he loves. The pain of Bruno believing the possibility Alberto really had disappeared, though, was something Alberto couldn't relate to back then, overshadowed by Alberto's latent need to prove to Bruno that he was wanted — a deep-seated desire to prove to the man that Alberto wanted to be in his life. He realizes now... he missed the point. Alberto never needed to try to prove anything — Bruno knew.
Finding himself in Bruno's shoes the past two days, hoping against hope, imagining countless worst case scenarios, drives this realization home now that one of them has come true. He remembers how frantic Bruno was when Alberto did finally respond, the banging on the door, the look on Bruno's face when they were "reunited" — or at least that's how it must have felt to Bruno then. Alberto feels a pit form in his stomach again, a lump in his throat, lying there in silence as this bitter recollection steeps and slowly knots his brow with remorse. Painful dots to connect. And too many feelings, far too rapid thoughts, to even begin to try and put them into words. Expressing himself right now would be too painful even if Alberto were good at it. But he's not. So after a pronounced silence, privately wrestling with his own reminiscence, Alberto still finds it in himself to choose not to wrestle this alone, and still manages to reach out to Luca for comfort — just... very literally. He doesn't say anything still, and instead, letting out a shaky little sigh, simply lays his hand between them, resting it on Luca's knee palm up — openly asking, again, just to be held. To lie quietly together and just hold hands, simply because Alberto's sad and wants to hold hands. That's enough for him right now — and more than he's ever had before. Who knows how long he'll have the chance... It won't be waiting for them back home, if and when they, too, should disappear. Even if they go home at the same time, they'll be apart again. Back to writing letters. Back to being grateful for a couple minutes in private on the telephone. Back to hoping and dreaming and endlessly imagining what "next time" could hold. But in this moment, Luca is here with him, and Alberto will try to trust that, as much as he can — trust Luca to be there beside him, trust Luca to understand what Alberto can't bear to put to words, trust him to just quietly hold his hand, as long as he can. ]
[Luca doesn't even have to think about it. He immediately reaches out and holds the offered hand, squeezing gently to offer what reassurance he could. He wishes there was some way he could promise not to leave, but with the way people can just disappear in this place that's not something he can guarantee, but he can, at least, give this reminder that at least right now he's here.]
[ Alberto squeezes Luca's hand back, taking as much solace in the little reassuring gesture as Luca'd hoped. And just a little squeeze like that can say so much — which is meaningful, for these two, since Alberto's not great at putting his heavy feelings to words. Luca's a better communicator by far — but just this says enough. For as profound a loss as this is, what more can really be said? And far be it from Alberto to be the one to say it. After a long moment holding hands in silence, lying still together, still together, Alberto gives Luca's hand another little squeeze out of the blue. He tears his gaze away from the colorful fairy lights he'd let himself zone out on, and turns to Luca with a soft, lopsided smile and tender eyes. ]
...Thanks, Luca.
[ Well— maybe there's a little more to be said. Alberto can at least say that much. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2022-12-02 03:26 pm (UTC)[Granted, Luca's a little nervous about giving Alberto too much hope in this area in case it doesn't happen. He thinks of the tallies on the wall of the tower while Alberto waited for his father's return. Of course, this is different. They both know Bruno didn't choose to leave and would absolutely come back if he's ever able. He just doesn't want Alberto to put all his hope in Bruno's return. He'll deal with that if it happens, though. He doesn't want to dash Alberto's hope now. Especially not when Alberto could be right.]
no subject
Date: 2022-12-02 03:41 pm (UTC)Yeah... Yeah. Dolores said maybe it's not like that for everyone, but, I mean — so many Madrigals have been here. Bruno's sisters, all his nieces, his nephews... Dolores even showed up twice. So it seems pretty likely he'll show up again, right? I mean, it might be a while, but— Th-This place loves burping up this family! Hah...
[ He's trying to affect some weak levity, but despite his wan smile, his eyes look purely worried still. It's a panicked hope, grasping at straws, just as Luca anticipated. He may not start counting the days until Bruno's return... but Luca knows Alberto's got that inclination in him, when the going gets tough. Delusional optimism works wonders sometimes. But probably not for this. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-12-05 03:42 pm (UTC)[He's trying to tread a thin line here. It's not impossible that Bruno will show up again, so he doesn't want to dash Alberto's hope when there really is hope to be had, but he also does want to subtly remind Alberto that while it's possible, Bruno's return certainly isn't guaranteed.]
no subject
Date: 2022-12-06 04:04 pm (UTC)The visceral disappointment he feels sinks into his gut as he stares at his phone, realizing he's in all likelihood never going to get another text or call from Bruno... and if he's lucky, at least not for a long time. Whatever he said to him last, that was it. He picks up the phone to check what it was, only three days ago, and crumples inside when he reads it; something mundane and un-note-worthy, along the lines of "Hey, kiddo, how's it going?" "fine, doing homework. call you later." ...Then Alberto got busy and never called. Remembering that he forgot to call Bruno later, though, is what breaks his false composure inside. Tears of anger start welling in his eyes. That was the last conversation they had? He scowls deeply at the phone, holding it with both hands, then reads the two texts aloud to Luca, bitterness in his voice. ]
Then I forgot to call him back. That was Monday night. I did laundry instead…
no subject
Date: 2022-12-08 05:46 pm (UTC)[Oh no. That's just...well, it's terrible timing. At least if the conversation had been a great one Alberto could have left this on a high note instead of having had his last interaction with Bruno being that he forgot to call.]
I mean, you couldn't have known...
[That it was his last chance to talk to Bruno, either forever or just in a while.]
I'm sure he knew you didn't mean to forget.
[After all, homework can be a lot. It's easy to forget things after. He also knows that might not matter, though, because that still means Alberto missed his last chance to talk to Bruno.]
This place is so unfair...
[Why couldn't they at least get some kind of warning that people were going away?]
no subject
Date: 2022-12-08 08:39 pm (UTC)Alberto's scowl deepens, jaw clenched hard, not saying anything. This place is so unfair. It's infuriating. He grips the phone tighter as his gaze lingers on the screen. He keeps it open to his chat log with Bruno, and starts idly scrolling backwards; at first he actually does read some of their old texts, but after a short moment, he starts skimming as his eyes glaze over with tears, eventually scrolling too fast to even read anything. He catches a glimpse of some random texts in Itañol from early October, accidentally landing on a simple "Buonanoches" from Bruno, followed by a "Buenos giornos" from Alberto the next morning — another regular, mundane exchange he'd taken for granted. That's what does it. His hands barely begin shaking as the first tear falls. But there's no biting them back anymore. When his tears well up so much it blinds him from continuing to read, the tidal wave swelling in him finally breaks... Overwhelmed, he sniffles and swallows a sob — then launches his phone across the room. It bounces off the bathroom door with a loud bang, the corner of the phone hitting it just so, with enough mindless force, that the screen shatters and glitches, before going half-black. Alberto doesn't watch it after he's thrown it, though. He just hugs himself, fingertips digging into his arms, and turns away to hide his face from Luca as the tears keep flowing. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-12-09 05:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-16 05:44 am (UTC)He lets Luca pat his back for a moment, but still doesn't turn to him. He just hugs himself tighter. He still feels an anger brewing in him, his tears hot on his face, brows knitted tightly. He knows that isn't the right feeling, but that's the feeling he feels. He remembers the way he lashed out at Luca the night before the race, when Luca had tried to comfort him about their argument; Luca maybe kind of deserved that temper then, but he definitely didn't deserve Alberto's anger now. Wise words from another Madrigal come to mind, Dolores once again, remembering sound advice she gave him the first time they met, a surprisingly deep introduction for Alberto: "There are no bad emotions. What matters is how you express them."
He feels another wave of grief crash over him, inhaling with a sharp sniffle as he chokes back a sob, and before he can ruin anything by overreacting, he rushes to his feet abruptly, crossing the room in brisk, sweeping steps toward the bathroom, hugging himself all the while. "There are ways to be angry that don't harm the people who care about you." How are the Madrigals all so good at not being angry? Bruno never got angry at Alberto even once — except maybe the day Alberto didn't respond to his texts or calls because he was distracted when Luca showed up; but even then, it was more fear than anger. Fear Alberto had disappeared without warning... a fear Alberto hadn't taken seriously enough back then.
He slams the bathroom door behind him and locks himself inside, still hugging himself shakily as he slips down to the floor — still swallowing his sobs even in private. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-12-20 12:45 am (UTC)hope this works!
Date: 2022-12-23 05:18 pm (UTC)He finally breaks down crying after this, and there's silence, apart from the faint sound of his sobbing. But that is much shorter-lived than his violent tantrum, once it occurs to him to use the water to drown the sound. He turns both faucets on, and they stay on for some time. In fact, once he manages a little bit of composure, Alberto has the good instinct to take a bath/shower... the best thing he could possibly do for himself right now, truthfully. He lets the shower rain over him, clothes and all, hugging himself in the tub as it fills up slowly, all the fallen bottles floating about around him. There's an occasional splashing heard over the sound of the running water, but altogether it does well to disguise his grief.
A little over a half hour passes before he re-emerges, if Luca doesn't check on him first. He doesn't bother to clean up the destruction he left behind him, and quickly shuts the door to hide it when he comes out. He's dripping wet, and still looks quite upset, but there's definitely a different air about him now that he's let some of the emotion out of his system. He saunters over to Luca again, hugging himself still, and sits close beside him, close enough that their legs touch. He stays wrapped in his own arms, but sits more comfortably than before, the tip of his tail swishing slightly; he even leans into Luca somewhat, though he still averts his gaze. There's a short, silent beat before he speaks up, his voice tempered but hoarse. ]
...I'll fix it later.
[ The bathroom. He'll fix the bathroom. But "fixing it" is still a loaded phrase for Alberto, a larger concept in itself — because of Massimo... and then because of Bruno. It's an idea that became significant with the both of them, "un-breaking" things. Boats, walls, fights with family... He may be referring to the bathroom, the most recent mess he's made, but subconsciously, there's no coincidence these are the first words that come to his mind to announce that he's okay. ]
It does!
Date: 2022-12-23 07:38 pm (UTC)When he hears the faucets running he's initially relieved, thinking that at least the faucet still works, but then he begins to worry. Why is Alberto running the faucet? He didn't hurt himself, did he? But then the faucet keeps running, longer than he'd expect if he was rinsing out a wound. Maybe he's trying to drown out his sobbing? It breaks his heart to know that Alberto thinks he needs to do that, and that he's crying that much but it doesn't really surprise him. He hears Alberto take a shower, and once he comes out Luca looks at him, glad to see it doesn't look like he's hurt himself in his 'breaking things' phase of grief.
Luca then glances into the bathroom and is unsurprised to see the state of it. He is glad to see that the sink and toilet are still in place. He looks to Alberto and asks quietly,]
Is there anything I can do to help?
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Date: 2023-01-13 03:34 am (UTC)He hadn't had someone to hug him the last two (two!) times "this" has happened to him, but now he does, the best possible person, feeling so lucky to be beside Luca of all people right now; but as miraculous as it was the way they were reunited here, and as scary as it is to think Luca could disappear at random just like Bruno did, the fact stands that Luca is here, and he can hug him right now. So while Alberto's first instinct was still to go be alone, it's a good sign that he's got his wits about him enough to change his mind and open up, in his own way. He keeps both arms wrapped around Luca's chest, not so loose and limp nor so tight and desperate as before — just comfortably, firmly, with his face pressed into his shoulder again. Nevermind that Alberto's soaking wet and getting Luca wet in the process; not like that'd really bother either of them anyway, though. ]
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Date: 2023-01-13 09:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-02-04 04:38 pm (UTC)He offers Luca a wan, appreciative, lopsided smile as he pulls back, patting his hand on Luca's shoulder affectionately in a silent "thank you." His face and arms are dry by this point, sitting half-wet and half-transformed, but he'll just let himself air-dry, however subtly strange it feels... Feels maybe appropriately uncomfortable. He lies back into the cushions more relaxed, his body language more open now with his arms behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling. He doesn't say anything for a moment, but with a softer sigh to start, he manages a pretty simple statement: ]
...I'm gonna miss him.
[ And really, that's getting to the heart of the matter, so plainly it's poignant. He'll miss Bruno a lot. That's all. ]
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Date: 2023-02-06 02:15 am (UTC)[Maybe not as much as Alberto will. Definitely not as much as Alberto will, but Luca liked Bruno and it was nice having someone around to look out for them and be a father figure for Alberto that would really be there for him. Someone who wouldn't just leave him alone on an island and tell him he's old enough to take care of himself. Sure, Bruno may be gone now as well, but at least he didn't choose to leave. He'd never choose to leave Alberto, and at least they both know that.]
rifsdljk I'm just chewing the scenery for fun, lol, sorry... been in That Kind of Mood writing today
Date: 2023-02-08 06:51 am (UTC)Thinking vaguely back on it in private, lying quietly like this, he feels a new twinge of pain suddenly, remembering how he'd ghosted Bruno for almost two days, too, when Luca'd first arrived. Bruno had thought Alberto had disappeared. Bruno had kept texting him hopefully, even though he didn't respond, until his panic hit a crescendo after a day and a half. Coincidentally, it was the exact same amount of time between the last time Alberto had talked to Bruno, and the moment Alberto's panic hit a crescendo tonight, when he found himself similarly hopeful, texting and calling Bruno's phone over and over the same way, before frantically moving onto Luisa's — a step further that Bruno hadn't needed to take. Their roles were flipped — except it'd turned out Alberto was in fact still there, and happier than ever, and Bruno's panic was for naught. Back then, Alberto had never known anyone who disappeared, so, unlike Bruno, he'd never worried about anyone magically disappearing; he felt bad that he scared Bruno when Luca had arrived, but in light of the reality of the situation, it became almost a little— funny? — looking back on it after that. But not anymore. Not now. The real resonance of Bruno's fear was lost on him back then. Alberto's concern had been more stuck on Bruno assuming Alberto had been pranking him or something, if he were still there; that was the point he made sure to reassure Bruno about, because Alberto would never pull a prank pretending to disappear on someone he loves. The pain of Bruno believing the possibility Alberto really had disappeared, though, was something Alberto couldn't relate to back then, overshadowed by Alberto's latent need to prove to Bruno that he was wanted — a deep-seated desire to prove to the man that Alberto wanted to be in his life. He realizes now... he missed the point. Alberto never needed to try to prove anything — Bruno knew.
Finding himself in Bruno's shoes the past two days, hoping against hope, imagining countless worst case scenarios, drives this realization home now that one of them has come true. He remembers how frantic Bruno was when Alberto did finally respond, the banging on the door, the look on Bruno's face when they were "reunited" — or at least that's how it must have felt to Bruno then. Alberto feels a pit form in his stomach again, a lump in his throat, lying there in silence as this bitter recollection steeps and slowly knots his brow with remorse. Painful dots to connect. And too many feelings, far too rapid thoughts, to even begin to try and put them into words. Expressing himself right now would be too painful even if Alberto were good at it. But he's not. So after a pronounced silence, privately wrestling with his own reminiscence, Alberto still finds it in himself to choose not to wrestle this alone, and still manages to reach out to Luca for comfort — just... very literally. He doesn't say anything still, and instead, letting out a shaky little sigh, simply lays his hand between them, resting it on Luca's knee palm up — openly asking, again, just to be held. To lie quietly together and just hold hands, simply because Alberto's sad and wants to hold hands. That's enough for him right now — and more than he's ever had before. Who knows how long he'll have the chance... It won't be waiting for them back home, if and when they, too, should disappear. Even if they go home at the same time, they'll be apart again. Back to writing letters. Back to being grateful for a couple minutes in private on the telephone. Back to hoping and dreaming and endlessly imagining what "next time" could hold. But in this moment, Luca is here with him, and Alberto will try to trust that, as much as he can — trust Luca to be there beside him, trust Luca to understand what Alberto can't bear to put to words, trust him to just quietly hold his hand, as long as he can. ]
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Date: 2023-02-08 02:21 pm (UTC)wrap?
Date: 2023-02-17 07:09 pm (UTC)...Thanks, Luca.
[ Well— maybe there's a little more to be said. Alberto can at least say that much. ]