The wind moved softly across the bridge.
Cold.
Restless.
The river below reflected shattered pieces of Florence's lights while *** stood frozen in place.
The girl in front of him blinked in confusion.
Meanwhile *** stared at her like he had just seen a ghost walk out of the river itself.
His chest rose unevenly.
His eyes slightly widened.
For a moment—
he genuinely could not separate memory from reality anymore.
Then quietly—
almost fearfully—
he whispered:
"…Giacomo?"
The girl frowned immediately.
"…What?"
Her voice carried pure confusion.
No recognition.
No hidden meaning.
Just a stranger suddenly being called somebody else's name.
*** kept staring at her silently.
His breathing still unstable.
The girl looked slightly uncomfortable now.
"…Are you okay?"
And before *** could answer—
before the world could settle—
before his thoughts could reconnect properly—
someone slammed violently into him from the side.
THUD.
The impact nearly knocked him backward.
Strong arms wrapped around him immediately.
Desperate.
Shaking.
And suddenly—
Gulli buried his face directly against ***'s shoulder.
Crying.
Actually crying.
Not quietly.
Not controlled.
Violently.
"I'M SORRY—"
His voice cracked apart completely.
"I'M FUCKING SORRY—"
*** froze instantly.
Gulli's hands gripped the back of his hoodie so tightly it almost hurt.
His entire body trembling violently.
"Please…"
His breathing became uneven.
"Please never do that again."
The sentence shattered halfway through.
*** stared blankly for a second.
The girl stepped back slightly now, stunned into silence.
But neither of them even noticed her anymore.
Because Gulli kept speaking through broken breathing.
"I couldn't sleep…"
His voice weakened.
"For five fucking months…"
He laughed weakly between sobs.
A horrible sound.
"I kept seeing you in my head over and over…"
His grip tightened harder.
"And I never knew if you were even real anymore."
***'s expression slowly began breaking apart.
Gulli continued desperately.
"I couldn't stand it anymore."
Another breath.
"So I went looking for you."
His voice cracked again.
"I knew something was wrong."
The words came out rushed now.
Panicked.
"I just knew it."
*** felt his own breathing becoming unstable.
Gulli buried his face deeper into his shoulder.
"And then I saw you on the bridge…"
His body trembled harder.
"And I got so fucking scared."
The confession sounded raw.
Ugly.
Real.
"I ran here crying like an idiot…"
A weak laugh escaped him again.
"I was so scared I wouldn't make it in time."
Silence.
"So scared I wouldn't be able to save you."
That sentence broke something inside *** completely.
Because for months—
he genuinely believed his existence only exhausted people.
Hurt them.
Burdened them.
And yet here was Gulli—
shaking violently in his arms—
terrified of losing him.
***'s eyes burned suddenly.
His vision blurred.
And before he could stop himself—
he started crying too.
Not elegantly.
Not silently.
The tears simply escaped all at once.
Like his body had finally grown too exhausted to hold them back anymore.
Slowly—
he wrapped his arms around Gulli tightly.
Very tightly.
And for the first time in months—
the embrace felt real.
Not performative.
Not forced.
Real.
"I'm sorry…"
His voice cracked immediately.
"I'm sorry for everything."
Gulli shook his head aggressively.
"No—"
But *** continued anyway.
"I don't want to scare you anymore."
His breathing broke unevenly.
"I don't want to hurt people anymore."
That confession sounded almost childlike.
Like a frightened little boy admitting something terrible.
Gulli cried harder against him.
And suddenly—
they both started apologizing over each other.
Messily.
Emotionally.
"I'm sorry."
"No I'm sorry."
"I shouldn't have said that."
"I shouldn't have disappeared."
"I didn't mean it."
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
Again.
Again.
Again.
The girl standing nearby quietly looked away.
Because suddenly the moment felt too intimate to witness.
The city around them continued moving.
Cars passed.
Wind shifted.
Water flowed beneath the bridge.
But for those few minutes—
nothing else existed except two exhausted boys trying desperately to hold each other together.
Eventually—
slowly—
their breathing calmed slightly.
The crying weakened.
Gulli rubbed aggressively at his eyes with his sleeve.
*** wiped his face too.
Both of them looked horrible now.
Red eyes.
Wet cheeks.
Messy hair.
Exhausted expressions.
And somehow—
it was the most human either of them had looked in months.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then slowly—
*** stood up from the edge of the bridge completely.
Gulli immediately grabbed part of his sleeve unconsciously.
Like he was still afraid he might disappear.
*** looked down at him quietly.
Then—
for the first time in what felt like forever—
he smiled.
A genuine smile.
Small.
Fragile.
But real.
Not sarcastic.
Not hollow.
Just tired and honest.
Slowly—
he reached down and gently ruffled Gulli's hair.
A soft affectionate gesture.
Almost older-brother-like.
Gulli's eyes widened slightly.
Then immediately—
he hugged *** again.
Tightly.
And with his face buried against his chest—
he muttered angrily:
"…I hate you."
*** laughed softly through the remains of tears.
Then quietly answered:
"…Me too."
And somehow—
that was the closest either of them had come to saying "I love you."