GOD! I HATE HOMEWORK! I WISH IT WOULD GO DIE IN A HOLE! IT KILLS TREES! Anyways, yeah, homework is a pain in the ass...That's just me bitching about it. I won't be able to update as fast as I want to! It might take a little bit for me to update. BUT NOT TOO LONG! I won't leave you guys hanging! I'm not that cruel! Anyways, please enjoy!
I woke up to the sound of the door knocking. I slowly sat up and yawned. I felt really cold. I realized sometime in the middle of the night, I took off my jacket and shirt. I saw them lying on the floor. Along with my jeans. I looked down and saw I was in nothing but my boxers. I shrugged my shoulders. As long as it wasn't somebody I didn't know, I was going to be okay. I slipped on my jeans and stretched. Someone knocked on the door again, this time yelling.
"Antonio! It's me! Open the bloody door!" It was Arthur.
I groaned and mumbled, "bastardo, I'm coming."
I opened the door a crack and saw a glimpse of the bushy browed, blonde, green eyed Englishman on my porch admiring my tomato plants. I opened more and leaned on the door frame. He stood up, gave me the elevator look, and smirked.
"That bad, huh?" He sighed.
"What do you want, Arthur?" I changed the subject. I quickly gave him the elevator look with my eyes. He wore his black pants, white dress shirt, and his red tie. He carried his black jacket.
"Is it really that bad for me to come over to your house and check up on you?" He shook his head.
I rubbed my thumb against my ring finger and stared at him in disbelief, "really? Are you serious? You don't seem like the type of person."
Arthur shrugged his shoulders, "well, I am."
"Good to see that you have a good side, Arthur."
"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!"
"Oh, nothing."
"You goddamn Spanish bastard..." Arthur went on with his colorful language on how to describe me.
I rolled my eyes, but gave a half smile, "do you want to come in?"
He paused and looked shocked, "Sure, if you don't mind."
I opened the door a little more and let him in. I cleaned up the couch a little bit. He sat on the couch. I sat on the chair that was facing it.
"So, what's up?" I asked, "what did I miss?"
Arthur cracked his neck, "nothing much. Work's becoming a pain in the ass, as usual."
"Señor Braginski bother you too much? Poor thing," I teased.
"Shut up," He tried to hide a smile.
"How are you and Francis?" I asked.
"How did you-"
I lips curl into a smirk, "I heard you talking to him when I called him yesterday."
Arthur's face turned a bright red, "oh...you heard that?"
"Si."
"Well," he scratched the back of his head, "this is embarrassing."
"Yeah, it is, isn't it?"
"Shut your face."
"Well, I'm glad that Francis finally found someone."
"Even if it's me?"
I scratched my chin and tilted my head, "well, it's better than no one."
"Touche," Arthur started to look more purple than red.
"As long as you're not a complete and utter jackass to him, I'll be okay with it. But, if I hear him crying on the phone one night, saying that you two are no longer together, I'll be right at your doorstep ready to kick your sorry ass."
Arthur lightly laughed, "you haven't changed a bit, have you?"
"What makes you think I changed?"
"Well, for one thing, you actually let me in your house."
"Touché."
"And you never sleep this late."
"Yeah, what time is it?"
"It's around lunchtime."
"Damn, I better get ready."
"Yeah, are you hungry? I can grab us a bite really quick and-"
"Gracias, but no. I'm staying home as much as possible today. I'll eat at home."
"Okay, are you sure?"
I gave him a look, "I'll be fine, Artie. You just run along and go back to work."
"Okay, fine. By the way, how's your arm?"
I looked at the crooked incision on my arm and shrugged, "it doesn't hurt me or anything. The doctors said that whoever did this was either a very poor surgeon who had no medical background, or an insane person. Or maybe both."
"Oh, goody," Arthur's sarcasm snuck into his voice. He started to get up and go to the door.
"I know," I followed him and opened the door.
"Well, I guess I'll see you when you get back to work, right?" He stood on the porch.
"Si, hasta luego, Arthur," and I closed the door.
...
I ran through my hand through my greasy hair. I rubbed my hands, trying to get the greasy feeling off. I went to the bathroom immediately, which was on the second floor. I wasn't feeling up to it to run, so I decided to slowly make my way up. I made a quick left turn to the bathroom and nearly tripped on the tile floor. I caught my balance, but my heart was beating ninety miles per hour.
"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo," I said to myself, "you're okay. Just a little trip."
My heart didn't listen. It kept beating fast. I took a deep breath and tried again. This time, I carefully walked towards the sink and was able to not trip. I turned on the hot water and threw it on my face. I shook my head and looked at the mirror. I looked all gross and sweaty. I ran the water in the shower, took off my clothes while it warmed up, and jumped in. It stung my skin at first, but it became more comfortable as I stayed there. I found some shampoo, lathered it at least three times in my hair. I could feel the grease run down my back.
As I rubbing soap on the side of my neck, I felt something really weird. I kept rubbing that spot. It felt like how it would feel after someone was burned. I rubbed harder which was a bad idea. I let out wince and stopped. I was confused. Maybe the doctors missed it. As soon as I got out of the shower, I grabbed a towel and dried myself. I wrapped it around my waist.
I went up to the fogged up mirror and swiped it. I saw...well me. I saw my green eyes staring back at me with dark circles under his eyes. I saw that my hair was hanging over my face because it was so damp. I looked like I was sweating. I wiped more of the mirror so I could see my neck. I looked at the spot where it felt weird. and saw nothing. It must've been my imagination, but I thought I felt something. I laughed dryly and shook my head.
"Toni, you're just imagining things. There's no way something could just disappear. I think you've been at the hospital too long..."
I tried to reassure myself nothing was wrong, but something was nagging at my brain. Something wanted to come out. However, something was preventing that.
...
"Dios, who's at my door now?" I grumbled. The doorbell was ringing again and again. I was sitting comfortably in my kitchen eating a really late breakfast of really stale cereal and milk that tasted really sour. I was almost spilling it on my jeans and t-shirt, it tasted so bad. I should've probably asked someone to do some grocery shopping for me while I was at the hospital.
I threw the bowl of expired breakfast (if one would even call it that) into the sink and emptied out the milk carton. I smelled the sourness of the milk and scrunched my nose. The doorbell was ringing again.
"I'm coming!" I yelled and walked quickly to the door.
I regret not getting a door with a little peephole to see who it is. For all I know, I would be opening the door for a robber or a serial killer. I unlocked the door and opened the door. I was pummeled to the ground and felt a warm body on top of me. First I thought that I really did have the door opened by a serial killer, but then saw a piece of blonde hair fall in my face.
"Fran-?"
"Oh, mon ami!" Francis smothered me with kisses and almost got the air knocked out of me.
"Francis..." I gasped, "I can't-"
"Sorry, Toni," Francis got up and helped me up.
I finally caught my balance and the world stopped spinning around me. I glanced at the flamboyant Frenchman before me. He looked way better than me. He had his blonde hair in a ponytail, with some of his hair in front of his face in wisps. His vibrant blue eyes showed a happiness, yet it showed a pain. He wore his fanciest outfit he could find. It was a pair of pants that looked like they would be used in a fashion show, a top that was tight, yet the cuffs were loose and airy. He topped it off with a scarf.
"It's okay, Francis," I said, rubbing my head, "Jesus Christ, I've seen you already, you're acting like I'm seeing you for the first time after a long time."
"Well, this is the first time I've seen you out of the hospital bed...and in skinny jeans," he winked at me.
"Oh, shut up!" I laughed. He was always pointing out my ass for some reason.
"Seriously! Every time I see you, you're butt seems to have gotten more and more fit and..."
"Francis, I get it, my ass is wonderful. What do you want?"
"Oh, yeah! I thought that we could meet Gil for lunch. We decided to take a sick day to hang out with you, seeing that you might be lonely."
"You guys," I facepalmed, "well, I might as well come, since you guys are so nice."
"Yes! It's going to be great! We saw this one place downtown and..."
Francis was pushing me out of the house and to his really fancy car. He kept going on about this restaurant that had opened recently. When I finally got into his car, he sped away so fast, I felt the cereal coming up. I still didn't feel too good, but I didn't want to tell Francis that. I did tell him to slow down a couple times, but he ignored me. I didn't care after that. I felt like life was back to normal. Finally.
Damn my SpUk tendencies. That's all I say. It's late, so I'll end it here. It's going to get interesting next chapter. I promise! See you later!
