Chapter Text
Feliciano opened his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks like a waterfall.
It was nighttime once again, and he had just woken from another nightmare—one where Ludwig left him behind and never returned.
Turning his head to the side of the bed, he found it empty. A pang of alarm shot through him, but then he remembered he had told Ludwig he would try to sleep without him tonight.
He had hoped for a peaceful night, but that hope was shattered. Now, he wrestled with the thought of going to Ludwig’s room and curling up next to him, just as he often did.
He attempted to wipe away his tears, but they persisted, leaving him with the conclusion that he should stay put. He didn’t want to disturb Ludwig’s well-deserved rest; the man had been overworking himself lately, and Feliciano didn’t want to be a burden.
With a sigh, he sat there, tears falling as he stared at his bedsheets, feeling utterly alone.
Before long, he succumbed to weeping, the need for comfort overwhelming yet paralyzing. What if one day Ludwig grew tired of him? The thought terrified him—Ludwig meant everything, and the mere idea of being left alone again was unbearable.
Feliciano recalled how, ever since he had started keeping his worries to himself, Ludwig seemed more at ease. The last time Ludwig had come home, ready for tears, he had found none. Feliciano had even hidden a burn on his arm from boiling water, feeling a strange sense of pride when Ludwig praised him for not getting hurt.
Who knew that holding back could earn him a reprieve from being a nuisance? He had even started doing the same with Lovino, trying to spare everyone from his burdens
But now, all that pent-up emotion spilled over, and his mental state was collapsing under the weight of it all.
He scrubbed at his tears, but it only made his eyes burn and his head ache. He felt worthless—just as everyone had always told him.
Another sob escaped him, and he rose unsteadily from his bed, only to collapse to his knees. He winced as pain shot through his feet, a reminder of the glass he had stepped on that morning, blood oozing from the wounds.
God, he was so tired. He had thought things would change after the mansion incident, that everyone would somehow be different. But everything had returned to the way it was.
Arthur was the only one who remembered what had happened, but like Feliciano, he tried to forget.
In some ways, Feliciano was relieved that things had reverted to normal, yet there were times when he felt lost in that familiarity.
Slowly, he crawled toward the long mirror hidden beneath a sheet. As he pulled it away, he gazed into his reflection, feeling the weight of his sorrow.
And yet, amidst everything, there was one thing that remained unchanged.
Feliciano sniffed, his fingers grazing the cool glass. Suddenly, a hand reached through the mirror, brushing away his tears.
It was the world on the other side.
As he closed his eyes, arms enveloped him from beyond the glass, holding him tightly.
Before he knew it, everything faded to black.