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I'm Not Going“What do you mean, you’re ‘leaving’?”
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Lovino’s voice was hard and demanding, but his eyes were wide in fear as he stared at Antonio, who was standing by the door to the restaurant with a box of belongings in his hands. They were the things the Spanish man had brought from home to give La Tomatina a more personal touch. On the top of the pile sat a little stuffed turtle that Lovino had given his lover for his birthday last year, the one that had always sat next to the register for as long as it had been in Antonio’s possession.
“I...have to go, Lovi,” Antonio said, his voice cracking as his face twisted in grief. “I can’t do this anymore. We’re...done.”
“D-dammit! Stop fucking around! You’re not walking out on me, bastard!” Lovino shouted. “You can’t!”
“I’m sorry, Lovino,” the other man said, his expression growing more serious. “But this is how it ha