Ignazio Boschetto imagines

"Shot through the heart" ~ Part 1

The city was dressed in tones of dark red and light brown. The leaves where floating in the air and softly touched the ground, creating a crunchy carpet to walk on.

You had just finished taking a walk at the local park and decided to have dinner at the 24/7 diner across the street.

Food arrived in the midst of giggles and teasing.

"I swear if we ever have children-"

You weren't able to finish your sentence.

Your voice was covered by the sound of glass shattering and falling on the tables and the floor.

And then, another, more terrifying sound could be heard.

The deafening sound of bullets being fired from automatic guns, hitting everything and anything they came across.

And one of them hit you.

You weren't sure if the blurriness was a side effect of dying or your body's mechanism to protect itself from the pain, but soon enough everything became a distant buzz and the blurry shapes gave their place to blackness.

The next thing you felt was your bones crashing violently. Someone was hitting your chest rhythmically, stopping every now and then to touch your Adam's apple.

Ignazio was transferred to the hospital with another ambulance.

He was in deep shock, not because of his wounds -he got through with a couple of scratches-, but because of seeing you falling on the ground holding your belly. And he knew it wasn't from the laughter.

A big blood stain was detectable on you black sweater.

The same picture kept playing over and over again in his mind, like a broken recording.

Your expression of pain and fear as you slowly closed your eyes, accepting your defeat and giving up.

The moment he arrived, he turned the hospital up and down to find you. The paramedics tried to calm him down, assuring him they would let him know the moment you'd be out of surgery.

With great reluctance he gave up and let them take care of him.

The clock seemed to have stopped ticking. Every moment that passed with your life still in danger felt like eternity.

He didn't know how many hours had passed till he was finally allowed to see you.

The fluorescent lights created a macabre atmosphere, one resembling the autopsy rooms in the offices of investigative services.

The cold, beeping sound of your heart monitor was like a shot to his heart. The hum from the ventilator and the other life support machines caused a buzz in his ears, which, along with his heavy disorientation from the shock, was enough to make him pass out.

And then, his eyes fell on you. His hands reached to cover his mouth, as his jaw dropped in awe.

His whole body started shaking and his knees felt too weak to carry his weight.

He grabbed onto the chair beside your bed and sat down.

He started taking in every little detail of your heavily wounded body. The scratches on your cheeks from the glass, the pale face, drained of all energy, drained of life, the arms, with patches every here and there and little needles piercing your veins to allow the medicine to enter your blood.

His body began shaking again, his loud sobs resulting in his body to move forward and backward.

He cried and cried and cried till he was drained of tears.

Then, he leaned towards the bed and kissed your hand. He caressed your forehead with the back is his hand and kissed your temple softly.

With your hand still firmly held in his, he started talking to you. His voice was broken and his words were interrupted by quiet sobs every now and then.

"You are going to be ok. You are going to be just fine. You're going to get out of here and we'll get married and have children, many children. Because you were right, even though you didn't say it, our children are going to be crazy, just like us. And it will be beautiful. We will go for long walks with them in the park and eat hot dogs and you'll shout at us because hot dogs are not nutritious food."

He chuckled. His momentary stop let him look at your face hungrily, like the time he was allowed to look at it was suddenly too short.

"Everything will turn out just fine. If you just get through this. And I know you will (y/n), because you are strong an you always get through what life hits you with."

He remembered when you nearly turned the university up and down to have justice served well again and laughed.

But his laugh wasn't the usual harmonious sound, nor were there wrinkles in his eyes.

It was a cold laugh, nearly paranoiac, a sign he was already going crazy, even at the bare thought of losing you.

It stopped as suddenly as it started.

His eyes became dark again. Tears reappeared in his eyes. He stood up from the chair and fell on his knees, like his was getting ready to pray.

"Please (y/n), don't leave me. I'm getting crazy already. How am I supposed to live a life without you? I... I'll end up killing myself if I don't have you by my side, to kiss you and hug you and remind you of all the reasons I love you more with every day that passes. I need you to smile to me with that bright smile of yours that can cure every bad feeling as thought. I need you to hold me right in your arms when my insecurities take over me. I need you to make me a better man with every day I live by your side. Please amore, I beg you, don't leave me alone. I'm too scared. I...I don't know how to live without you."

He didn't say any more. His sobs was all one could here if they passed by the ICU.

The sounds he made resembled a wounded bear, mourning for its predictable, short future.

Mourning.

That's all he could do.

Mourning for the dark future that lay ahead.

Mourning for his heart that was shattering into more and more pieces with every beep of the heart monitor.

Mourning for his love, that was draining of life with every moment that passed.

Mourning for himself, because he knew he would never be able to take it if he would lose you. He knew that once half of his heart, half of him, would be gone, the other half wouldn't survive.

The two hearts were intertwined and if one was cut from the wire, the other would fall into the abyss as well.