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Lines, angles, charred metal, and a wide array of cogs. That was all Romano could make of the statue. There was no form, just one twisted pipe bent into another with spikes that ranged from needle thin to just thicker than his thumb standing on end everywhere. Beneath the spikes were plates of metal warped to the shape of the atrocity where the skilled carvings of ridges could be made out in a blending pattern. On each side, a wing jutted out, connected only by joints that allowed it to move vertically. Each wing was made of flat, oblong pieces welded together in the same pattern as the ridges beneath the spikes and held straight at the top by a conduit. It proceeded to move up and down at designated intervals, catching him off guard each time as it did so. As his eyes were drawn past the shifting metal, he observed a tail of fifteen separate metal fragments that were spread in a fan, the adjoining tip merely welded to the rest of the statue. Each fragment shivered with small adjustments, as if redirecting the air to move differently around it. A raised, somewhat round portion at what could only be deemed the front -since the sign resided there- held two dimly lit bulbs the size of dimes and glared at him ferociously. The glare was only diminished by small shutters that slid downwards over the bulbs, creepily akin to the blink of an eye. In between were two curved pieces of sheet metal that opened and shut with a menacing clack. It gleamed under the fluorescent lights maliciously as it tapered to a point on one end. Each time it unfolded -not without the sound of shrieking metal against metal, one might add- he could glimpse the innards of the beast; cogs, mesh, springs, wires, pulleys, and other mechanical devices whirred within to create the multitude of movements.

Lovino had been studying this piece since his idiotic fratello had dragged him to the museum about an hour ago and still he could not figure out what the piece was. Now, it was dangerously close to the time when the building would have to shut down for the night. Even now, he could see the oranges and reds of the beautiful sunset outside.

For what seemed to be the thirtieth time, Romano read the holographic plaque situated in front of those gleaming bulbs. It read, ‘Untitled. Creator: Unknown. Time period: 21st Century.’ Again, his tired amber eyes attempted to glean some clue from the sign and the overall stature of the creation. And, as before, he found himself growing irritated by the lack of idea of what on earth the mechanical monstrosity could be. Just how could someone know the time period, of which this piece dated back about three centuries now, but not the person who could have possibly created it. He read further, ‘Artistic Category: Abstract.’ Well, no wonder! Obviously it was abstract, it didn’t seem to create anything special in way of imagery, it was just a jumble of clockwork machinery! Did it have something to do with his brother being better at art than him? Was that why he was so lost on this statue? His eyes roved continuously over the art again and again, but still he was unable to understand. He began to mutter under his breath in Italian as his focus remained solely on the piece. In fact, he was so concentrated that he failed to notice someone come to stand beside him. He continued to observe and study and attempt and guess, all to no avail. Finally, his patience reached its limit.

“What the hell is it supposed to be?!” He shouted angrily, raising a hand to rake it through his shaggy auburn hair and being sure to avoid his curl.

“A crow,” responded a soft voice at his side. His eyes slid to the side to find a woman, dressed in jeans and a purple hoodie, eyes resting on the very same statue as himself. She had curling (h/c) hair tied back in a ponytail. He couldn’t see much of her face, due to a ball cap resting on the crown of her head, but he could see the soft, plush lips turned up in an admiring smile. She was a few inches shorter than himself, the top of her head coming to his chin at the highest, and she was standing incredibly close to him for a stranger, their arms almost brushing against each other. As she remained there, he felt an ashamed blush burn his cheeks at his outburst. However, rather than embarrass himself further by apologizing, he decided to ask her a question.

“What makes you say that?” He asked gruffly, turning his face away from her slightly to hide his pink nose and cheeks. She seemed to find this inquiry amusing, giggling cutely while bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle the noise. He scowled at said laughter, though it wasn’t mean and mocking as most would be. In fact, the only reason he was scowling was because her laughter made his blush darken with how adorable it was.

“Well, can’t you see it?” She asked, pointing to the sculpture. “This is the head, here. See, these are the eyes and that’s the beak,” she said, showing him the dim bulbs and clacking metal in between in turn. His arm was clasped at the elbow as she steered him to the beast’s side. Then, she noted the two wings jutting from the main frame. “Those are the wings, naturally.” Last, she showed him the fan-like structure that continued to adjust minutely at the back. “And that’s the tail. See how the tail feathers are adjusting to keep him on course?” He could see it now, the body was carved with the shape of feathers in mind, and the spikes overtop the outlying feathers that glistened. He could make out the beak and the tail and the eyes, all in their respective places and moving as any bird would. Even the wings made sense now as the feathery pattern continued onto their mass. How could he not have seen it before? Still, there was one thing that was bothering him.

“Why a crow?” He asked, watching as she tilted her head like a confused kitten. The blush that had been fading now returned with a fury and he suddenly took a great interest in his shoes.

“Didn’t you notice? The crow is facing towards the southwest and it’s been put in the back of the museum so that people will most likely see it at sunset,” she stated matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Well, it may have been that way for her, but Lovino found himself lost once again.

“I don’t get it,” he said gruffly, trying to get her to explain further.

“Well, it’s said that if a romantic person sees a crow flying southwest at sunset, that they are going to meet their true love,” she murmured, embarrassed now for a reason unknown to Romano. At least, until he realized the two of them had met at sunset at the sculpture. He cleared his throat nervously and looked away, his hands in his pockets as an equally awkward silence enveloped them. Just as he was about to say something to break said silence, a security guard walked towards them.

“Sorry, you two, but it’s closing time. And no hats inside the building, ma’am,” he chastised the two of them with an apologetic smile, though it was mostly aimed at the girl. A growl rose in Lovino’s throat, though he couldn’t have explained why until the girl took off her cap for the first time since meeting. As soon as the cap was gone, Lovino met beautiful (e/c) eyes full of emotion and easily read, like a book. Familiar eyes.

“_______?!” He exclaimed, surprised to see his high school sweetheart. She grinned sheepishly.

“Hi, Lovi..,” you murmured bashfully, wringing your cap in your hands. Just the motion was unbelievably cute, not adding the way your chin tipped down and your eyes glanced at him between long, black lashes. A new silence stretched, this one of shock and disbelief. Romano couldn’t believe his eyes, this was the girl he’d let move away without telling her how he felt. What he didn’t know was that you’d left without doing the same. Old flames were rekindled and emotions he’d crushed long ago burst into being just at her proximity. He had to bite his lip and physically restrain himself to keep from grabbing your chin and kissing you. The silence between the two of you continued on without his realization as he desperately tried to convince himself that you were here and that you were real. And it dawned on him slowly that your quip about the crow and the sunset was your way of telling him that you still felt something for him, but as the silence continued, he could see your confidence deflating and humiliation and disappointment pooling in your eyes.

“You know, I think that artist was onto something..,” Lovino muttered while he fixed his gaze on you, trusting his instincts rather than letting his mind -which was screaming at him to stop before he embarrassed himself and got his heart broken- rule him, grabbing your chin and pressing a loving kiss to your lips. He nearly felt his heart leap out of his chest with joy as you returned the kiss hesitantly, relishing in the fact that your lips were just as soft as they’d been before you’d left.

The kiss was short but exceedingly sweet, leaving Romano breathless. He pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes to shut out the happy tears. He wouldn’t allow himself to cry. Eventually, he breathed out the two words he should have told you long ago.

“Ti amo...” He opened his eyes halfway, watching as a relieved and happy smile curled your lips.

“I love you, too.” He knew that he could have died happily then, knowing you loved him. Even as you left, exchanging numbers with him so you could meet up once more, he felt that nothing short of fate could have brought you back to him. Lovino’s gaze found the crow sculpture once more. Maybe it wasn’t fate...but the boon of a myth.

“Fratello~! It’s time to go~! Germany wants me back home soon.” A curious hazel stare found Romano’s own happy amber orbs. “Did you learn anything new?” Roma couldn’t help but shake his head dazedly.

“Just something about crows and sunsets.”