Welcome to part one of the third au! This ones a bit different. But I think people will like it! Maybe.
The background information! Basically set in a world where Atlantis never sank and was a real place. It went like all countries, developing and changing, wars and such. That country was later named amberground. As its set in the real world, there was always a sun, but much of the world remains the same. This is set in the 1800s and the only real way to communicate remains mail. The capital is public, if you have a pass, and thats basically it! Nothing supernatural.
Inspiration: "love story" by taylor swift.
Warnings: "shota", ooc?, au, character death.
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Onward!
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"Driving"
Lag held on tightly to his beat up old suitcase as the rickety truck bounced and shook. Next to him, a lanky white dog sat, seeming to mock the boy with how easily it stayed seated and steady on the cracked leather seat. He scrubbed at his still running nose with his frayed sleeve, watching the dirt road ruefully.
The silence stretched for a while, before Gauche finally broke. He glanced at the miserable little boy, uneasy. "Do you need a tissue?"
Lag kept his swollen gaze on the dusty old dashboard. "Mfine."
"Right..." well, he tried. Roda, his faithful companion cast a concerned glance at the boy and then to her master. The young man tried not to make eye contact. He wasn't good at this. Whatever "this" even was.
Over an hour ago, Gauche had been doing his routine deliveries. Dusty roads stretched for miles and the houses were still and silent. Just how he preferred his days. The appearance of a resident, however, had stopped this.
Lag was a regular sight for his route, often retrieving his mother's mail and sometimes playing with Roda, so the man wasn't surprised to see him sitting at the mailbox. He had been surprised, however, to see the boy sobbing to the point that Gauche had feared he might throw up.
When he approached the boy, he had been surprised to have a shaky little hand offer a crisp envelope (except where sticky snotty hands had touched) to him. On the front was Gauche's name written in fine handwriting. Inside had been an uncomfortable request from Lag's mother to take him to his aunt's house.
When Gauche asked to see the woman, Lag's sobs grew in intensity and the man quickly attempted to sooth the child. Grudgingly, he coaxed the boy into his delivery truck and carried on with the route. Gauche didn't try to talk to him. After the first ten minutes, Lag stopped crying. He snuffled noisily, the sound turning the man's stomach, but overall became relatively silent.
After that, they'd carried on until now. Gauche remained in much the same state he'd started as. Glancing at his map, he judged that the destination – one Sabrina Mary's house – would be another two hours away. His truck would need to be refueled...
"S-She's sick..."
Gauche blinked, startled from his thoughts of his boss yelling at him. Glancing at the boy, he assumed he meant his mother. He waited for the boy to continue.
Lag remained quiet for a long moment. Gauche assumed he wasn't going to continue talking and returned his focus to navigating the potholes and stray rubble in his path.
Seemingly annoyed, the boy mumbled, "Arencha gonna ask...?"
This was going to be a long day. "Ask what?"
"Where momma went..."
Gauche regarded Lag for a moment, turning the question in his head briefly. "Its none of my business."
Lag watched him with what the man could only assume was a sour expression. The boy turned his attention back to the endless prairie ahead of them. Gauche fought the urge to sigh when the boy began to sniff noisily. Roda looked between them in disappointment.
"Its none of my business." he repeated, "But if you really have to, you can talk..."
"Y-You don't care..." Lag replied sourly.
"You can talk if you want..." He wouldn't know what to ask regardless. This was already too surreal.
It was silent again. For a moment, Gauche hoped the boy would stay that way. True to his name, he wasn't equipped to be a socially adept human being. He'd prefer not to talk if he could. After a while however, he found the boy talking quietly.
"She got sick...but no one told me." he said quietly, voice raspy from crying so hard earlier. "S-she said she couldn't take care of me...S-so I gotta go live with Auntie..."
It occurred to Gauche that he'd never actually seen the boy's father. Only his fair haired, delicate mother who rarely left her porch. He supposed it made sense now. No parents meant that Lag would have to go to an orphanage or try to live alone, an impossible task for a little kid this far from town.
"I'm sure she'll get better...if she's in a hospital, then she's luckier than most." Gauche replied, a feeling of envy running through his veins briefly.
Lag rubbed his nose clumsily, glancing at Roda and petting her gently. "Y-You think so...?"
"I'm sure she'll be fine."
The boy seemed to relax. Roda might have had something to do with that, as she nuzzled the boy's sticky cheek. Gauche was relieved to have the situation pass, focusing fully on the road once again. It wasn't that he disliked the kid, but he'd never been particularly good with children. Least of all the sticky topic of sickly parents.
Glancing at his watch, the young man noted it was nearly lunch. He turned to tell Lag that they'd be stopping soon to eat, but paused when he saw that the boy was dozing off against Roda. He blinked, a small smile tugging his lips.
Truth be told, Lag looked very peaceful and cute when he slept. His eyelashes were long and his rosey (although sticky and icky now) cheeks made him look like a little doll. Albeit a big crybaby doll. Much better though than a crying little boy. Lag reminded him too much of Sylvette, from his wide smiles to his runny nosed crying fit just now.
Sighing, Gauche gave Roda a light pet, silently thanking her for comforting the boy. She nuzzled his hand and gave a yawn, closing her eyes a bit. Smiling faintly, he turned his focus back to the road. This daily, routine drive had turned out to be so strange.
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