[ 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
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?
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]